Hiding Hurts
We have to be wary,
Of entering His rest;
For He does not vary,
Direction of your quest.
We have Good News to say,
As proclaimed unto us;
As long as we obey,
To the message as thus.
For it does you no good,
No faith in what you heard;
And doing what you should,
As written in the Word.
For we who have believed,
To enter our rest;
Assured to have received,
Salvation to invest.
In my anger I swore,
Not to enter my rest;
Without knowing for sure,
If the Father has blest.
Yet a new foundation,
Accomplished in the world;
Giving us salvation,
As a new plan unfurled.
God rested from His deeds,
Rest on the seventh day;
Still caters to the needs,
Although we disobey.
For today you must hear,
Listen to what He speaks;
Make your heart to revere,
Following what God seeks.
Someone who did his best,
And listened to obey;
The Sabbath, day of rest,
And to worship and pray.
For His Word is living,
And like a two*edge sword;
It can be forgiving,
Or a wrath from the Lord.
God judges all the thought,
Attitudes of the heart;
No hiding what you sought,
And you will not outsmart.
Copyright © 2018 Richard Newton Sherrer
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NATURE AND GOD
~NATURE AND GOD~
Sometimes I use both words but I know
they do not have the same meaning or
definition in my mind and I have to use
these two words extremely carefully.
Nature is the fact and reality we face.
I look for a higher power that makes
the rules like Gravitational force and
Magnetism that can make the stars
and planets move in a way they move.
Similar movement at a sub*atomic level.
I call this higher power GOD the one
and only creator of entire Universe
without personal experience of God
BUT
I know that my concept of God might
be totally different from the concept
of God held by so many others and it
will be dependent on their religion
or/and upbringing since their birth.
One thing is for sure that we all are
free to have our belief about God and
some attribute human characteristics
to God but cannot do that with Nature.
Nature is a fact and will remain a Fact.
It is neither kind nor cruel, it is neutral.
It has no emotions like love or hate.
It's what you see is what you get and
no amount of praise or bribe will
influence nature and change its course.
JUST MY THOUGHTS.
Kris ~ Dreamweaver
www.poetrypoem.com/Dreamweaver
16th June, 2016.
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Dust Storms (PartTwo)
Dust Storms (Part Two)
The dust storm raged for four long days. If only we had some shelter
We did have our goggles and face cloth to cover our nose and mouth
Yet, the intensity of wind and clutter of debris added to the danger.
The animals grew stranger, while there began a steady fall of mercenary soldiers and rangers.
Our goal was to find the missing Treasure of Sudan and the missing Scrolls of Life
From day one we face hardship and strife.
A phantom storm of dust and debris was the first fury to run free.
Finally, the dust begins to clear, the massive dunes appearing near.
We cremate our dead and a eulogy was said.
Ashes and sand weigh light, as the mixture vanishes the site.
Sargeant Leman was left to command for the few left must meet the demand.
Twenty miles ahead stands the ancient cave, a place that holds legend of conquered knaves.
A haunting shrill looms in the air, a levitation of forboding mist circles in a looming twist.
The treasure and scrolls are hidden in the cave, guarded by the spirits of the brave.
Could the mortal army of Sargent Leman walk the space and retrieve the treasure and scrolls?
An image now beckons the men to this mysterious place.
More in Dust Storm (Part Three)
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The Hot Seasons
few would ever own
few rarely ever see
the years
the drubbing hours of
the hot seasons that have lived through me
every ten years they come
encouraged to arrive right when
the temperatures rises
the moon dives down to the earth
tides turn
winds are relentless
even when you don't hear them
speak and complain
and my heart begins to believe
it won't ever possibly mend again
then I feel the rain on my face
a whole deluge of it
but none of it is falling
every ten years
predictable
with teeth and claws
the heat drags itself in
reminding me
how life can mean continual compliance
how
I'm destined to repeat
like*trials
how
I must do much more than pass/fail
then win
failing cannot be an option
or
the heat will wing victory
over me
as surely as the grass turns brown
and forests burn
as surely as a crow opens its mouth
to gulp in air to cool itself
as surely as the madmen fill cloudless skies
with bizarre embroidery webs of vapor
oozing
a child's watercolor tilted
down upon us
how a little Lot of pain must disperse
as if we've purchased it
but it has all the rights
and if we struggle and wade through
flailing
hoping we will learn to swim
and
waiting for the cool of autumn
the change
I've had at least
six hot seasons
my unlucky number
but I would have preferred
six summers
in the night
mirrored
I see them peering
in the twitching glances of my eyes
I know their whisperings in my restless sleep
they tell me I am theirs to keep
those monsters
those devils
the hot seasons.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT 6;41 AM PST AUGUST 15 2018 TIME DATE STAMPED
FOR THIS POEM/AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE*
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT*A*WORLD.
1966/1976/1986/1996/2006/2016
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Summer Delight
Summer Delight
Surrendering in a field of wild flowers
searching darkened skies, waiting for
drops to fall upon the thirsty earth
thoughts come alive within my memory
bank making me laugh aloud, remembering
when a bunch of us use to run after
little rabbits, playing hide*go*seek, in this
very field of wild flowers.
Overwhelmed by vivid memories, tears
swell and fall to the ground by my head
Remembering all those bright sunny days
when only nature kiss our life with delight
free from stress and confusion.
So many wonderful days doing what we
wanted to do out doors after our chores
were done in the summer time of my
life.
Sunny days still are here with tension
breaking the calmness, yet we complete
our life with a filled heart, and a promise
to make living a little brighter through
the darkness that followers close behind
in shadows of doubt and fear.
For now! I lay and listen in silence, in the
field of wild flowers, dreaming dreams
of sentiment and joy of my youth
of yest*er*year.
By Derena
© 2018 Derena (All rights reserved)
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Kris K
Painting pictures with words
Setting the scene,
Stories never heard before,
Places I´ve never been.
I followed the wanderings
Of the man and Bobby Magee
As they roamed across the land
Still young and fancy free.
I hoped with all my heart when
She left in search of a new life
She´d find a decent partner for
Her to be a loving wife.
The Sunday morning sidewalk
Filled me with despair:
As Johnny Cash sang it
I really felt that I was there,
I heard the kicking cans,
Smelled the chicken frying,o
Understood when he said
There´s nothing short of dying.
I love his crafted stories of
American blue collar life,
Words graphically applied
With a verbal palette knife.
So many others sang his work
As he grew in artistic fame
And in the world of songwriting
Became a well respected name.
More known now as an actor
In these days of late,
For me he´s earned the status,
A modern Country Music Great.
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Missing You
I sit here alone Feeling empty and lonely. I think of you often Practically every minute of the day; Wondering how you're doing, What you are feeling And wishing that I could hold you. I sit remembering all we've shared Dreaming of all that will be, And crying a tear For every minute that we're apart. At times I tell myself I am strong That the time apart will go quickly; Yet at others, I sit and cry And wonder why love must hurt this way. Though somewhere in the loneliness, Somewhere in the emptiness; I find myself feeling very loved And I realise that, It's not the loving that hurts so much. It's being without you. © Lonewolf 71
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"No Escape"
“No Escape”
She could feel
depression
creeping back
into her life
a mental
cloud cover
that dampened
her thoughts
not blocking
them
just taking the
edge
off any of
her sharper
ones
and removing
any shine
the others
might have
had,
her twenty
minute
power naps
started to stretch
into hours
her segmented
regiment
of TV time
drifted together
the unending
hum
of an outdated
cable box
that is now
constantly on,
she pulls open
the refrigerator
door
knowing she
should eat
something
but unable to
spark any interest
in anything
she sees
she closes the
door
already
giving up on
today
she sits in
her chair
making a list
of things
she’ll get done
tomorrow
giving her the
only positive
feeling
she’ll be able
to pull out
of the whole
day
only to find
nothing crossed
off
the next time
she finds the
energy
to make another
list,
she has to
really work
at making herself
get into the
shower
sliding out of
yesterday’s clothes
hoping to emerge
with a little
more hope
and some kind
of desire,
she lets the
coarse
stream of water
hit her
right in the
face
turning the
handle
from Hot to
Cold
and leaving it
there
till her body
feels like it’s
going to break
her skin
tightening
against the
icy cold
till she can’t
take it
anymore
then slowly
letting
the warmth
mix back in
to the water
her body now
embracing the heat
as it works
it’s way into
her cold skin,
she comes out
of the bathroom
feeling cleaner
her wet hair
dripping on to
her blouse
soaking through
to her left
shoulder
she sits back
down
in her chair
as that dark
mood
starts to
stick
to her
once again
covering her
whole body
before the
wet
fabric
of her blouse
has time to
dry…
Tom Allen…08*04*2018…
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