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Messenger
Messenger not to be shooted
It is through messenger
All problems solved
If one tried.
Messenger is supportive
To plan and procedure
No damage of any kind caused.
Time to reform messenger
Cooperation needed and not separation.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Did Anyone Know The Messenger?
What in the world,
Are they doing over there?
'Well...
It's a complicated story.
You see..
The culprit giving mouth to mouth,
Resuscitation to the messenger...
Knocked him out,
Because of a message read.
And...
Before he even began to read,
The people determined...
They didn't particularly care for his attitude.'
What did his attitude have to do,
With a message delivery?
'That's the point the messenger,
Attempted to make.
Then that guy called the messenger,
A bunch of names.
Then knocked him out.'
What was the message?
'Well..
I had to read it,
Because the others refused to get involved.'
What did the message say?
'It said...
Keep your faith, stay strong.
Love one another.
Seek and attempt peace.
And please forgive the messenger,
Delivering this message.
He has been volunteering his time,
Without any pay at all.'
Did anyone know the messenger?
'They all did!
That's what's complicated.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Destiny
They deliver the edicts of God
without delay
And are exempt from apprehension
from detention
And with their God-given
Petasus, Caduceus, and Talaria
ferry like bolts of lightning
unhindered between the tribunals
of Space & Time
The Messenger-Spirit
in human flesh
is assigned a dependable,
self-reliant, versatile,
thoroughly poet existence
upon its sojourn in life
It does not knock
or ring the bell
or telephone
When the Messenger-Spirit
comes to your door
though locked
It'll enter like an electric midwife
and deliver the message
There is no tell
throughout the ages
that a Messenger-Spirit
ever stumbled into darkness
poem by Gregory Corso
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To The Wind
Hey Messenger, what do you do
Traversing along hill and land and water
Simply pretending to construe
Waving shapeless hither and thither
Kindler of fire, collector of clouds
Aeolic by command natural
Kindler of bombers, collector of tears
In breaths of humans, aren't you unnatural
Hey Messenger, what do you do
Messaging along of love and hate
Simply pretending to be true
Hailing and wailing in conspiring haste
Call your Messiah, I shall ask
Your celestiality be checked up
Of your split hearts He shall hark
Hey Messenger, retort, don't simply pass up
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Birds Wished To Be Friendly
1 Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
'Come here, o' dear, come here'
coo~~coo~~coo~~~in rising notes
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
2 Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger winged
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Warbling, whistling, fluty trilling
Magpie just couldn't let me read
Hither thither cuckoo and magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
3 Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger plucked punished
Gloomed cuckoo, confused magpie
Two birds wished to be friendly
Reading failing, messaging failing
Loamy homey cuckoo angry with me
Two birds wished to be friendly
I was the messenger plucked punished
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 08
I remember how in former times I and another friend kept company with each other like two almond kernels in one skin. Suddenly a separation took place but after a time, when my companion returned, he commenced to blame me for not having sent him a messenger during it. I replied: ‘I thought it would be a pity that the eyes of a messenger should be brightened by thy beauty and I deprived thereof.’
Tell my old friend not to give me advice with the tongue
Because even a sword will not compel me to repent.
I am jealous that anyone should see thee to satiety.
Again I say that no one will be satiated.
Messenger of Hope
Wind,
No matter how strong,
No matter how little,
Will always,
Mean so much to me.
Wherever I am,
In this unimaginable world,
I can always feel,
The wind,
As it comes and goes,
And travels across,
Your imagination,
Across the oceans,
To a land unknown,
And touches the cheek,
Of another person,
Another life.
Which is why,
I like to believe,
The wind can carry,
Anything and everything.
Like the sound of music,
The smile of a child,
The spirit of an individual,
Or the smell fo something you long,
To smell again,
Like the smell of rain or,
The smell of freedom.
Wind,
Is the Messenger,
Between person to person,
Between place to place.
But for me,
Wind,
Is my Messenger of Hope,
Hope to believe again,
Hope to understand,
Hope that I will return home,
And hope to keep my life intact,
For I never will know these things,
If it weren't for the wind,
My Messenger of Hope.
poem by Music Galore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conditioned To Focus On Limitations
The message that they are getting to hear,
Is not the message heard they wish preferred.
And, coincidentally, it is not the content of the message.
They oppose and object,
It is the messenger who states this message,
With an eloquence delivered to them
They reject.
And 'if' that messenger had represented,
One of them
They'd be more inclined to pay attention.
But of course,
They have been conditioned to focus
On limitations to impress.
And not use their ears for listening
To a message they should address.
The message that they are getting to hear,
Is not the message heard they wish preferred.
And, coincidentally, it is not the content of the message.
They oppose and object,
It is the messenger who states this message,
With an eloquence delivered to them
They reject.
And it is obvious to those who know,
As to why most ears are ignorantly closed.
They want to raise the bar 'their' way.
But not with 'this' one.
Who has come to play,
Hardball with decked cards regardless.
Of what others perceive another should say.
They want to have it their way.
Even though their way betrays and begins to fade,
Those days of one's pigmentation.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's My Name? !
What is my name and who am I?
I do not ask myself
But you
Who
Ever you are
I ask who is this David Knox
Who remains under this mask
Just a boy who runs fast?
I pray I'm more, even more than talks
With others or with you, am I more than just who i was before?
Who is this kid any more?
Is he still one to abhor?
If he is, who is me?
How can this be?
For I know him not
Though I hear every thought
I don't know myself, or what's inside
I forgot what I pledged to hide
Maye all that remains is the mask
But then I must ask
What is my name?
If my mask holds my fame
Who is he>?
Who is this shadow of a man?
Who is this dark messenger who spreads light
Who is this dead messenger that brings life
Who is this mask that urges you to take off yours
Who is this boy who claims to find his identity in Christ?
Who is David Knox
What makes 'me'
Who is that?
What's my name?
And what's that means for who I am
Tell me you must know if I do not
Because SOMEONE must!
TELL ME! WHAT'S MY NAME? !
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purpose For the Delivery
Evaluating the messenger,
Does not diminish the content of the message.
Nor do judgements given,
Dissect its power.
Options of free will,
Have never stopped the foolish.
Lessons learned too late...
Are what they are!
Lessons learned,
Too late.
Satiating a taste,
For diminishing appetites.
Those believing it is never too late...
Only have to stop their wishes,
For yesterdays reminisced.
To look outside to find that time...
Has not ceased to stop,
For those choosing to block it from moving forward.
It is doing so without one thought about them at all!
And the messenger could care less,
Who addresses what or when.
Or if ever discussed to comprehend.
To gather any attention then.
That is not the purpose for the delivery!
Nor a concern to debate with them!
Just like time...
Coming,
To Go!
With a flow that does not slow,
To await those chasing it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The fox never found a better messenger than himself.
I became the messenger who had to be killed.
quote by Anita Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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None love the messenger who brings bad news.
A wanton eye is the messenger of a lusting heart.
Man is a messenger who forgot the message.
quote by Abraham Joshua Heschel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't blame the messenger because the message is unpleasant.
quote by Kenneth Starr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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