Tag: Christianity

A New Collection of Poems Just For You…

Forget

Forget and see what there is today, look to the horizon. Build in your mind anew, forget the dead and gone. It will serve you not, we are called by cold dark histories. When there is air now and things to see and do cast of the mind shackles, shake off the dust, walk, breath, pray. All the way. The change will come but only the will. Your will can change anything.

Nevis the Spider

The rise of Nevis the spider suckered in my room and a storm was revealing itself outside the twinkle and spangle of facets. Before I fixated was I, to the point of no movement the Tiffy bedside lamp casting a shadow or two in the chamber of the shadowed shack, but then along came Nevis the spider mini monster with all his legs. Six of the most versatile, the climbing small mountaineer on a mission in my room.  Very slowly Nevis crept along like a professional burglar obsessed I thought I was clever until I observed Nevis the spider. I hope he found his way home with his Alien eyes to the coving corner in my winter room and into his safety net of micro steel web, a clever fortress of minute complexity.

Come In

Come in, take your clothes off there are no flies on us, brush everything away all this as the sun rises, sit down say a woman you cannot stand there, it’s not easy I promise we aren’t taking a rise from your presence. You have come here to disown yourself. I see the hairs upon your back rising, yes the world is in a pickle and as you are now nothing it will clearly stick upon your person, we have unity here in our vulnerable state, we suggest all leaders of the world be the same as us in one room then at least we can all laugh at how absurd we all are.

Cosmic Masters

Cosmic masters to earth control, the bricks are down, the great leveling has begun. Since the dawn of time property had been the demarcation of division between all people coupled with complicated religions. Control death and destruction steer the course of a link in the mind of man. A part of man’s mind required alteration for the vacant mind of man had caught the attention of the creator an energy cube far in the universe. It was time for change upon our known own falsities upon earth unable to tolerate one another. People had run amock greed being the priority that was all humans could think of, politicians had diseased collective mind protecting their forever land, an impervious mindset setting mere mortals minds into rage and hate. Status reproducing and fornication are the only damaging hobby body art becomes status and vanity explode. Cosmic intervention had become necessary so this leveling had to be, became known as the cosmic evaluation of people by the great master. Adepts upon earth had to breathe once more.

The Neutral Blanket

The neutral blanket that was the day when all the days crammed into one and they collided, time had been running so fast, it was as if time itself was running away. But to what destination the period in time seemed to be rushing to a conclusion. There was to be an intervention but it would not be of this world it had to come from another, I watched the sand timer from my chair with a fire blazing and wood crackling. Flames of personalities dancing shapes, visions, horrors, all in the mix tortured spirits too many to count shapeshifting in front of my hooded eyelids, I concluded that civilization which it is now had to go to sleep and depart its ugly history and upon the time of the morrow refreshing warm breezes would come and harmony with her friend peace would join in unity.

I Am Table

Lots of recycling going on as it happens thought about recycling myself wondered what would happen, first of all, I have to destroy myself and be broken into bits, an old friend dragged me to be remade but not sure how it would come out apparently I am now the first talking dining table I can even move ready for tea, how about that.

Sandpaper

Sandpaper upon granite, that’s where we are, the walls we cannot penetrate all too often at humanity’s loss. So many poor smashed against the wall absorbed in eternal soil lost under the plough, coming out as something else and the cold castles of pomp and indifference still stand on the militant ground leaving the meek and lonely sad, tell me where is the benevolent energy. God or is it eternity that rises and falls and the rest forever a timeless sea of peace.

Once Upon

Once upon a long time ago, we had a life, we had a show, we were in it we were there. The sun came out for the day we sat up without a thought and often just walked away. Now we are held down not able to move there is control the coercion of the evils, presents as a magnetic force nearly down to the last human. A few escaped but fear for their lives and some indeed live underground and can secretly walk to another world leaving all others behind.

 

 

Poems Galore from the Warrior of Poetry

Heavy

Heavy upon my mind, a planet passes through in a phase. It’s over, the moment gone of fear. I now have no fear lifted away into the cosmic abyss. For I’m on the other world I’m in the hinterland, a spec upon the horizon. In yonder land as is often said. I tried to cling onto the old but each time I was there I knew I was leaving for the spirit had flown and, nothing connected. Turkers Wood my home of residence was floating away, our small island was detached and all our memories locked. Did this happen, was I there and who own this world is there any treasure buried in the soil.

Language

Language, in the texture of a sky, so vast not to read but to feel. It’s too far away to care too remote to fathom. That word is for the deep but not for the cosmos. Draw from the atmospheric platform what you desire, for it is probably the cosmic mind that calls too you.

Loose Yourself

Loose yourself feel the wind through the tunnel of transformation, beyond the new future is coming you are going to be lost at times in the unknown, what will you find I see a mother craft on a mountain side it assesses my approaching speed and estimates my threat, that is the charging vortex of me, but it is over. I am now inside, I am told I am now wanted upon Mars, and so to Mars I go onwards is the rallying call.

Dark is the Night

Dark is the night I’m in groove for flight, soon I go, I blow. I’m gone, trajectory unknown. But I land, I get out. It is warm, I walk, I await. The greeting, the acceptance. A new friend, I do believe it is an alien who approaches from yonder ridge here on another planet.

Too Much Love

Too much to love, but I don’t know how is it a secret. That I should never find or has it always been in plain sight. But afraid of the now life is not so long and the embers are trailing and barely warm. I struggle as if I’ve missed the point, was it the only saving grace we posses, above all else or have we missed this tingle inside.

 

 

If Aliens

If Aliens are bad then where are the blessed ones it is hard to say, have they left us?. Have they vacated terra earth did the vision of the blessed one make them depart, what is to befall us all? Is earth indeed to be cleansed given rest for all it has suffered, there is panic around now and no time to talk. Streets are vacated where are the people. Has life has metaphorically gone to ground, cables wires, and satellites in the skies above, and who invented normal. What defines such a world now, that exists, in partial hiding. in rarified rooms of intensity, angst, and stagnation.

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill

The Little Lantern Peoples of Hanger Hill, we are now approaching the year three thousand, many world downturns later and the fashioned nature of the time is producing smaller peoples of what is left of a world, what is left of houses is little more than rubble to hide in. Food is a combination of the wild fayre, wild veg, and disheveled crumble. Warehousing full of water-soluble dry packet foods, water is now wells and dysentery is high. Public health down to the volunteer medical people now fighting over supplies. But there is a strange phenomenon upon a mountain hill on the edge of the Lake District or more correctly the edge of the North Yorkshire hills. It is a disused gliding school hanger with its sliding doors half-open upon a metal beam in the far corner of this hanger up to a thousand paraffin lanterns can be seen one small knobbly kneed strange human form can be seen standing in front of this lantern keeping warm as it states into this ok light and heated device most primitive. By eight PM a procession of stunted shadowy figures can be seen trailing toward the grey rusting building each being picks a now lit lantern and proceeds to form a circle within the hanger waffled chit chat I observe and then there is the whistle and shaped being called pointed hand and it’s hand goes through a gap in the grey hanger door to alight upon a higher hill. The thousand little lantern peoples must prepare so in procession lamps on they waddled out the big hanger door toward an Auric horn higher up the trail glowing deep and moaning in sound and steam the little lantern people marched in a train of light to the Auric horn.

Latest Audio Poems Susie Swan & My Father

Susie Swan


A short story for kids as Susie Swan saves the wood from General Snail…

My Father

This is about my father County Councillor John Wilson a native of Scale House Farm Galgate Lancaster who died in 1973 suddenly age 44 yrs wouldn’t mind it read out sometime sadly missed.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive