Post Reply 
Thread Rating:
  • 0 Votes - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Psychic Poetry
09-01-2013, 08:53 PM
Post: #1
Psychic Poetry
A Sailor's Plea

Why is my life in turmoil O' great god of the sky?
Have I not trod thy humble path of life?
Watered the crop of forgiveness
Hoisted my flag on the highest mast as I set sail

Through turbulent winds has my ship sailed
Her timbered wounds soaked with salt
My brine of sorrow like watered tears,
Through jagged rocks my ship did flounder
Cutting the stern as she bleeds the oil that thy hands have toiled.

Did every port not write her name, as she docked her load?
Her wondrous cargo has fed the poor that even thy eyes have seen.

Let my ship with creaking timbers cast her sail to southern winds
That ye may blow her home.
No more rough waters to rock her bow.
So may you lift the fog with a sweep of thy hand
To where both ship and man go home to die.

Had not thy ship serve thee in time of need?
When her bow creaked and rats did flee?
Did not her stern thou did bleed, stood by thee?

In rocky seas did she venture thee; unhindered by gales that be?
When other ships rained with good luck flora,
Thou endured pain along the corals.

Many ports have embarked thee, through many lives thou has seen.
The beginning of life and the end of death,
When two seas meet, they often greet.
Like the wheel of a ship, we loose our grip.

A kindled spark that lights the flame,
Often hid within the pain
Did not thy lantern in the fog, guide thy ship through jagged rocks?

Hoist thy sail my friend of woes
Rest thy tired limbs and wing, like the seagull, and sky born eagle

I see a gull in my minds eye,
where ships and men sail home to die.

Where no more, will the wind beat on a tired sail
Ridden and holed and almost pale

Rest thy timbers on the sand.....both boat and weary bosons hand,
That ye may never take afloat a vessel laden full of woes.

Written By George
Find all posts by this user
Quote this message in a reply
11-01-2013, 03:15 AM (This post was last modified: 11-01-2013 03:28 AM by georgek.)
Post: #2
RE: Psychic Poetry
I Fell

I fell my lord, in times of need
When the crop was tall and the beasts were lean
My dagger’s short and my truss was warped
I called your name
You never came
To heal my pain
But called my name
As I lay dead on..... my sick bed

Was it not my pain you felt?
As you bruised your knee, when I ferried thee?
I called your name, within your shame
Then hurried down to heal the lame
Turn around; then see my name
Engraved in stone as widows moan
On all the graves that man had sown

Lost Love

Did I not say that I loved I held her hand so tightly when there was a tempest?

The sea was calm and the sky was blue.
Her youthful smile most radiant, as our souls entwined

For we had sailed many journeys and spoke of oneness

Then when the sea had unleashed it's rage once more...
Did I not go back and hold her hand?

But the hand had wizened and the soul had tired, as I gently let her go.

The Duke of Chester

I saw the Duke all frail and broken
Pray that night for having spoken
Five hundred men had died this time
From lucid words and ill sought verbs

The candle light had gained no height
As it slowly dimmed as beggars grinned
Then darkness loomed in this passive room
Forgotten dreams where silence looms

Written By George
Find all posts by this user
Quote this message in a reply
13-01-2013, 04:45 PM
Post: #3
RE: Psychic Poetry

Ye are gods...... children of the most high
Who are those who stealth through the night sky?

The mighty power of the Elemental Gods!

That man may be born to die like an insect and be born again!

He is like the gnat on a tree, who crawls by day and hides by night

Oh great are ye, thy Elemental Gods who with a wave of an arm cause
the sky to streak with forked lightning.

Then clasp thy hands in a clap of thunder, as the waves twist and turn by the skew of thy hand

Then as thee lay thy hand down on the green of the land…….
May a sunbeam shine from the tip of thy finger into the hearts of men.
That they may know that thee are great and above all things

Let thy hand raise a chalice to the dry arid land, that fruit may grow
For thy cup holds the rain that every mouth shall drink

Let not your wrath fall in tempest on the poor and ignorant
As ye are wise and above all things
That they shall know that thee and the land are one.

Written By George
Find all posts by this user
Quote this message in a reply
Post Reply 

Forum Jump:

User(s) browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)