Poetry competition CLOSED 12th January 2015 8:09am
WINNER
RavenofSorrow
RavenofSorrow
RUNNER-UP:
toniscales
~• Universal Secrets •~
~• A Secret Under The Dark Curtian •~
Its getting cold about and seeing sad goodbyes,
When love is got with nothing but lies
How can human beings be trusting,
When we all lie to ourselves for nothing
How would we know if light was there,
When in the end only darkness cares..
The multitudes secrets revealed throughout time,
A truth hidden thats in all mankind
Emotions bought to forget and hide,
only ever leading to the sad goodbye
When at the end deaths at the door,
Only to think why they lived in vain for..
Now you wake to see the illusion and its tragedy,
That our perception determinds our reality
What gives us the wisdom to tell the difference,
After a lifetime of wearing a crown of ignorance
The answer is in everything and in you,
Teaching yourself how to learn is your first clue..
The journey of ones hope to find loves lost stranger,
In a world that every moment lost love is in danger
A secret doors opened now by lifes suffering and burden,
Above the world and under the dark curtian...
Its getting cold about and seeing sad goodbyes,
When love is got with nothing but lies
How can human beings be trusting,
When we all lie to ourselves for nothing
How would we know if light was there,
When in the end only darkness cares..
The multitudes secrets revealed throughout time,
A truth hidden thats in all mankind
Emotions bought to forget and hide,
only ever leading to the sad goodbye
When at the end deaths at the door,
Only to think why they lived in vain for..
Now you wake to see the illusion and its tragedy,
That our perception determinds our reality
What gives us the wisdom to tell the difference,
After a lifetime of wearing a crown of ignorance
The answer is in everything and in you,
Teaching yourself how to learn is your first clue..
The journey of ones hope to find loves lost stranger,
In a world that every moment lost love is in danger
A secret doors opened now by lifes suffering and burden,
Above the world and under the dark curtian...
The light of a thousand lamps are one
The dewdrop contains the whole of the sun
The sum is reflected in all of it's parts
The fire is kindled in all of it's sparks
As the above
So the below
Connected through love
In love we all grow
And thus do we know
That the one is the all
And it's love that will free us from every flaw
The dewdrop contains the whole of the sun
The sum is reflected in all of it's parts
The fire is kindled in all of it's sparks
As the above
So the below
Connected through love
In love we all grow
And thus do we know
That the one is the all
And it's love that will free us from every flaw
RavenofSorrow said:The light of a thousand lamps are one
The dewdrop contains the whole of the sun
The sum is reflected in all of it's parts
The fire is kindled in all of it's sparks
As the above
So the below
Connected through love
In love we all grow
And thus do we know
That the one is the all
And it's love that will free us from every flaw
couldn't say it better... moving piece my friend...
Darker
The dewdrop contains the whole of the sun
The sum is reflected in all of it's parts
The fire is kindled in all of it's sparks
As the above
So the below
Connected through love
In love we all grow
And thus do we know
That the one is the all
And it's love that will free us from every flaw
couldn't say it better... moving piece my friend...
Darker
Does there still exist a sensible reality worthy of a second thought.
It seems my Imagination has failed me leaving me hopeless and distraught.
Unable to view the world thew my once whimsical eyes.
Much to distracted bye the propaganda and all the well told lies.
Resembling a herd of sheep, just following with no resistance.
Willingly being blindsided from the meaning of our existence.
Maybe the thoughts are to Incomprehensible from the normality you find.
Or can it be the sort of clarity that seems to cloud the mind.
It seems my Imagination has failed me leaving me hopeless and distraught.
Unable to view the world thew my once whimsical eyes.
Much to distracted bye the propaganda and all the well told lies.
Resembling a herd of sheep, just following with no resistance.
Willingly being blindsided from the meaning of our existence.
Maybe the thoughts are to Incomprehensible from the normality you find.
Or can it be the sort of clarity that seems to cloud the mind.
- As Above, So Below -
As Above, so Below!
From me this river doth flow.
I am the Divine Hermaphrodite,
And thus begins this enchanted rite.
Merry we come; merry we meet,
You stand before my holy seat!
In the days of bygone histories,
Of heroes fallen and villains fell, of ancient societies…
I walked seen and unseen, known and unknown, throughout the ages of our past fathers.
Queens have I served, and kings forgotten, princesses and princes their blood manifest,
Yet of them all, I ensure where they themselves did fall, for I walk still: seen and unseen.
What are the truths of those Mysteries, of which I have attended in so many eternities?
More than I can say, more than even I know, amongst all the divine sons and daughters!
Emperors have not reigned as long as my spirit hath existed, with only the briefest rest.
I have heard a call, from beyond Creation’s molded wall, answering it as if in a dream…
Whilst I answer in turn, and thence the waters of the Abyss begin to stir ever so silently.
Great is the mason: whose art made all things,
And are we no less grand when we create ourselves anew?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this certainty is most true.
I cannot put names to the cause of all mankind’s pain, but I know two: blood and sorrow.
What one wicked generation builds in false pride, another must in goodness tear it down!
Just outside the veil of realities, lies the domain of divinity: just beyond the golden morrow.
We wade in the blood of our ancestors every day, never sensing a danger until we drown,
Yet we can be saved: there is the finest gain, for I cast forth my soul as a formless shadow.
My soul goes forth like a loyal servant; it doth ride a tempest to fetch my glory’s crown!
My Goddess doth prepare her home inside her Temple in the proud old Elysian meadow.
Therein lies the Emerald Crown of my chosen way; I now claim it in my grandest gown…
Or in garments of blue and white: whilst the void between the stars be at my slender back.
My blue eyes stare into your own, whilst my light pierces the starless nothingness black!
Great is the architect: whose craft built all things,
And are we no less grand when we build ourselves again?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how souls mend.
Never shall I falter, nor for glory fail, and for my Goddess I dare never to foolishly yield.
I am like unto the Demiurge, the Shadow whose breath is felt upon the primeval waters…
Not in wickedness, but in might, as if my being did cry out to say: aye, this too is God!
For what I create, I too cast my breath, my life, my essence upon, and so I will it to live.
My Goddess is my guardian; with her angels, I have walked in many a green blissful field,
And discoursed with gods, upon things that I could never relate: such profound matters…
In fires of celestial love have I burned; hotter are they than the desert’s parched red sod!
I have walked in halls where pleasure and pain are one, partaking of all they had to give.
How can Hell be a place of suffering, for those who reign: in the paradise of old Elysium?
There, the lush emerald fields and azure mountains echo the beauty of my holy kingdom!
Great is the creator: whose skill built all things,
And are we no less grand when we make ourselves over?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how we discover.
Like an incubus, like a succubus, stealing the energies of souls to enhance my every thrill,
Thusly was the substance of the hellish orgies at which I was welcome, a beloved guest.
Yet not a one was harmed, for what is eternal cannot ever be undone; they exist yet still…
How at a loss the Infernal Aristocracy would be, if not for me: I would be sorely missed!
Art moves my soul and beauty inspires it; be it fair or dark, it is all lovely to my fair eyes.
I have my two favorites of course, thou see: the Earth Goddess and the Goddess of Light!
One beauty is from the depths, and one from the heights: one from soil, one from the skies.
I love them in equal measure, more to my pleasure and seven times to my eternal delight!
Can one steal what is given freely, as from a lover to one’s true and most sacred beloved?
How then are those souls given unto me not rightfully mine own, taken unto my very bed!
Great is the architect: whose craft built all things,
And are we no less grand when we build ourselves again?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how souls mend.
The Ancients believed we were slaves to our gods, but what else would I rather to be…
When the servitude brings the reward beyond what riches can provide, who is the slave?
I am a humble servant, yet I am free; a master in mine own right: a god in many a way…
What could I ask of my Goddesses that they could not righteously provide for all to see?
Before them, I dwelt in error; I walked as one blind until they came, my soul to so save.
Now I find solace in the night that brings them forth to my side, and brightens every day!
Yet I have known despair of life, and lives of suffering sorrows base, and deliverance…
I have tasted of foul wines as well as fair; I have looked into the Devil’s face, long since,
Do I see the Devil reflected in my face, and in that being’s do I see what is only a mirror?
Indeed for a devil to some is a goddess to others: she is become I, and I am become her.
Great is the mason: whose art made all things,
And are we no less grand when we create ourselves anew?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this certainty is most true.
Only to rise and behold Heaven’s Light and the glories of the night that doth grace infinity!
One must descend ere on can rise again in triumph restored, the dead given precious life.
Many times have I passed the Final Veil: that robs all others of their spirit’s very dignity…
And I have stood in Death’s halls, greeting her as a friend or a lover, as a man or a wife.
A goodly companion hath she been to me, between mortal lives and those of my divinity,
So here I am, whatever this life is to be: like others past and future, in peace and in strife!
I am a humble servant, yet I am free; a mistress in mine own right: a goddess in my spirit.
No label can fit all that I am, all that I have seen and been, and done, as my will sees fit!
And someday people will tell and retell of my poetry…
From these days of bygone histories!
As Above, so Below!
That is how glory doth grow.
I am the Divine Hermaphrodite,
And thus concludes this sacred rite.
Merry we meet; merry we part,
As I make end to a secret art!
As Above, so Below!
From me this river doth flow.
I am the Divine Hermaphrodite,
And thus begins this enchanted rite.
Merry we come; merry we meet,
You stand before my holy seat!
In the days of bygone histories,
Of heroes fallen and villains fell, of ancient societies…
I walked seen and unseen, known and unknown, throughout the ages of our past fathers.
Queens have I served, and kings forgotten, princesses and princes their blood manifest,
Yet of them all, I ensure where they themselves did fall, for I walk still: seen and unseen.
What are the truths of those Mysteries, of which I have attended in so many eternities?
More than I can say, more than even I know, amongst all the divine sons and daughters!
Emperors have not reigned as long as my spirit hath existed, with only the briefest rest.
I have heard a call, from beyond Creation’s molded wall, answering it as if in a dream…
Whilst I answer in turn, and thence the waters of the Abyss begin to stir ever so silently.
Great is the mason: whose art made all things,
And are we no less grand when we create ourselves anew?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this certainty is most true.
I cannot put names to the cause of all mankind’s pain, but I know two: blood and sorrow.
What one wicked generation builds in false pride, another must in goodness tear it down!
Just outside the veil of realities, lies the domain of divinity: just beyond the golden morrow.
We wade in the blood of our ancestors every day, never sensing a danger until we drown,
Yet we can be saved: there is the finest gain, for I cast forth my soul as a formless shadow.
My soul goes forth like a loyal servant; it doth ride a tempest to fetch my glory’s crown!
My Goddess doth prepare her home inside her Temple in the proud old Elysian meadow.
Therein lies the Emerald Crown of my chosen way; I now claim it in my grandest gown…
Or in garments of blue and white: whilst the void between the stars be at my slender back.
My blue eyes stare into your own, whilst my light pierces the starless nothingness black!
Great is the architect: whose craft built all things,
And are we no less grand when we build ourselves again?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how souls mend.
Never shall I falter, nor for glory fail, and for my Goddess I dare never to foolishly yield.
I am like unto the Demiurge, the Shadow whose breath is felt upon the primeval waters…
Not in wickedness, but in might, as if my being did cry out to say: aye, this too is God!
For what I create, I too cast my breath, my life, my essence upon, and so I will it to live.
My Goddess is my guardian; with her angels, I have walked in many a green blissful field,
And discoursed with gods, upon things that I could never relate: such profound matters…
In fires of celestial love have I burned; hotter are they than the desert’s parched red sod!
I have walked in halls where pleasure and pain are one, partaking of all they had to give.
How can Hell be a place of suffering, for those who reign: in the paradise of old Elysium?
There, the lush emerald fields and azure mountains echo the beauty of my holy kingdom!
Great is the creator: whose skill built all things,
And are we no less grand when we make ourselves over?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how we discover.
Like an incubus, like a succubus, stealing the energies of souls to enhance my every thrill,
Thusly was the substance of the hellish orgies at which I was welcome, a beloved guest.
Yet not a one was harmed, for what is eternal cannot ever be undone; they exist yet still…
How at a loss the Infernal Aristocracy would be, if not for me: I would be sorely missed!
Art moves my soul and beauty inspires it; be it fair or dark, it is all lovely to my fair eyes.
I have my two favorites of course, thou see: the Earth Goddess and the Goddess of Light!
One beauty is from the depths, and one from the heights: one from soil, one from the skies.
I love them in equal measure, more to my pleasure and seven times to my eternal delight!
Can one steal what is given freely, as from a lover to one’s true and most sacred beloved?
How then are those souls given unto me not rightfully mine own, taken unto my very bed!
Great is the architect: whose craft built all things,
And are we no less grand when we build ourselves again?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this is how souls mend.
The Ancients believed we were slaves to our gods, but what else would I rather to be…
When the servitude brings the reward beyond what riches can provide, who is the slave?
I am a humble servant, yet I am free; a master in mine own right: a god in many a way…
What could I ask of my Goddesses that they could not righteously provide for all to see?
Before them, I dwelt in error; I walked as one blind until they came, my soul to so save.
Now I find solace in the night that brings them forth to my side, and brightens every day!
Yet I have known despair of life, and lives of suffering sorrows base, and deliverance…
I have tasted of foul wines as well as fair; I have looked into the Devil’s face, long since,
Do I see the Devil reflected in my face, and in that being’s do I see what is only a mirror?
Indeed for a devil to some is a goddess to others: she is become I, and I am become her.
Great is the mason: whose art made all things,
And are we no less grand when we create ourselves anew?
As I have, and so in glory the angel in me sings,
Whilst the demon in me agrees that this certainty is most true.
Only to rise and behold Heaven’s Light and the glories of the night that doth grace infinity!
One must descend ere on can rise again in triumph restored, the dead given precious life.
Many times have I passed the Final Veil: that robs all others of their spirit’s very dignity…
And I have stood in Death’s halls, greeting her as a friend or a lover, as a man or a wife.
A goodly companion hath she been to me, between mortal lives and those of my divinity,
So here I am, whatever this life is to be: like others past and future, in peace and in strife!
I am a humble servant, yet I am free; a mistress in mine own right: a goddess in my spirit.
No label can fit all that I am, all that I have seen and been, and done, as my will sees fit!
And someday people will tell and retell of my poetry…
From these days of bygone histories!
As Above, so Below!
That is how glory doth grow.
I am the Divine Hermaphrodite,
And thus concludes this sacred rite.
Merry we meet; merry we part,
As I make end to a secret art!
Anonymous
Sad Truth
I've heard it said too often
people have de-evolved
nobody cares these days
no-one has time for anyone else's problems
I can't help wondering...when?
when did people act more concerned
get along better and make truer friends?
was it when humans could be bought and sold publicly
tried and hanged in the town square with applause
or back when women couldn't vote
homosexuals were considered mental
and the mental weren't considered ill at all
just possessed
when children worked like mules
in the farm and factory systems
or when we got jailed for non bill payment
sat in debtors prisons
when were we better?
when miners worked without safety gear
and minimum wage was unheard of
when basic education was for the rich
most poor people never owned or could read a book
when animal abuse was nobody's business
and three families working and sharing a room
was the norm
when prostitution was the only way a single woman
could feed her family
when gay bashing and bullying the vulnerable
was thought of as acceptable
some places are still in the dark ages
wearing social customs, morays, religion
to excuse their mistreatment and ignorance
but tell me this
when were we better?
I've heard it said too often
people have de-evolved
nobody cares these days
no-one has time for anyone else's problems
I can't help wondering...when?
when did people act more concerned
get along better and make truer friends?
was it when humans could be bought and sold publicly
tried and hanged in the town square with applause
or back when women couldn't vote
homosexuals were considered mental
and the mental weren't considered ill at all
just possessed
when children worked like mules
in the farm and factory systems
or when we got jailed for non bill payment
sat in debtors prisons
when were we better?
when miners worked without safety gear
and minimum wage was unheard of
when basic education was for the rich
most poor people never owned or could read a book
when animal abuse was nobody's business
and three families working and sharing a room
was the norm
when prostitution was the only way a single woman
could feed her family
when gay bashing and bullying the vulnerable
was thought of as acceptable
some places are still in the dark ages
wearing social customs, morays, religion
to excuse their mistreatment and ignorance
but tell me this
when were we better?
A Viral Earth
Leather feathers and bird leaves
halo weather, mad cow disease
human's faltered as Earth recedes
plastic castings of trickery
the face , the mask's
all they see .
Revelations of allied nations
Kingdom's rising regaining elevation
empirically tested with more invested intrerest
in our damnation ,we're living totalitarian
A wild stampede ,all substrates in need
all known seeds are buried under lands of green
they think it won't be known if it ,can't be seen
so when the show really blows ,they can start clean.
Numerical in digits, via portals ,near missed hits
feared land-fills ,prophets get blitzed
they want to stamp us with triple six.
Leather feathers and bird leaves
halo weather, mad cow disease
human's faltered as Earth recedes
plastic castings of trickery
the face , the mask's
all they see .
Revelations of allied nations
Kingdom's rising regaining elevation
empirically tested with more invested intrerest
in our damnation ,we're living totalitarian
A wild stampede ,all substrates in need
all known seeds are buried under lands of green
they think it won't be known if it ,can't be seen
so when the show really blows ,they can start clean.
Numerical in digits, via portals ,near missed hits
feared land-fills ,prophets get blitzed
they want to stamp us with triple six.
Anonymous
Sea I am
Sea,I am, Crushing wave
Wave,I am,Wave of light
Sea,I am, Turning tide
Tide that turns,Burning time
Time I am, Born of flame
Flame, I am, Fire and ice
Ice,I am, Snow of flakes
Name,I am, Spoken word
World,I am, Home of man
Man,I am ,Son of god
Sun,I am, Eye of sky
Sky,I am, Home of moon
Moon,I am, Silver wheel
Wheel,I am, Tidal wave
Wave,I am,Crushing wave
I Am sea
Sea,I am, Crushing wave
Wave,I am,Wave of light
Sea,I am, Turning tide
Tide that turns,Burning time
Time I am, Born of flame
Flame, I am, Fire and ice
Ice,I am, Snow of flakes
Name,I am, Spoken word
World,I am, Home of man
Man,I am ,Son of god
Sun,I am, Eye of sky
Sky,I am, Home of moon
Moon,I am, Silver wheel
Wheel,I am, Tidal wave
Wave,I am,Crushing wave
I Am sea
the whole universe will be one
the good
the evil
will be undone
till
only love remains
you think
there is no reason
for what you're going through?
what perspective
what distant understanding
is hidden in the misty view?
the whole universe will be one
the good
the evil
will be undone
until
only love remains.
"why"
you ask,
"does love have to die"?
"How"
you ask,
"could evil live"?
evil lives
to murder good
so love can rise up out of the flames
to fill the void
till all is filled
when only love remains.
How do we learn
that nothing else lasts?
As all else slips out from our grasp,
And every vanity burns.
And what is rising from the fire?
A golden ship of silver masts!
Wake up!
Wake up!
The whole universe will be one
The good
the evil
will be undone
until
only love remains, yea
every dream will be unfurled
when only love remains.
the good
the evil
will be undone
till
only love remains
you think
there is no reason
for what you're going through?
what perspective
what distant understanding
is hidden in the misty view?
the whole universe will be one
the good
the evil
will be undone
until
only love remains.
"why"
you ask,
"does love have to die"?
"How"
you ask,
"could evil live"?
evil lives
to murder good
so love can rise up out of the flames
to fill the void
till all is filled
when only love remains.
How do we learn
that nothing else lasts?
As all else slips out from our grasp,
And every vanity burns.
And what is rising from the fire?
A golden ship of silver masts!
Wake up!
Wake up!
The whole universe will be one
The good
the evil
will be undone
until
only love remains, yea
every dream will be unfurled
when only love remains.
http://www.mstopjobandfriends.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/dead-bird-pigeon-3.jpg
Afternoon Service
We bury her in the dark, noisy sanctum
near the air conditioner. The earth
so hard and dry it barely crumbles
beneath your plastic shovel.
Lumps of gray hold her feathers in place,
silk and satin juxtaposed against grime and grit.
They ripple tremulously in the breeze,
mirror the softened trembling of your lips.
Your little hands cannot resist these textures,
tearing at the holes in the stories.
How love cannot save something so fragile,
doomed from the start.
How it won't erase
the black circles under my eyes,
ever bring your father and I
back together again.
Afternoon Service
We bury her in the dark, noisy sanctum
near the air conditioner. The earth
so hard and dry it barely crumbles
beneath your plastic shovel.
Lumps of gray hold her feathers in place,
silk and satin juxtaposed against grime and grit.
They ripple tremulously in the breeze,
mirror the softened trembling of your lips.
Your little hands cannot resist these textures,
tearing at the holes in the stories.
How love cannot save something so fragile,
doomed from the start.
How it won't erase
the black circles under my eyes,
ever bring your father and I
back together again.
