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A Requiem is Sewn

Of foam born offerings a requiem is sewn,
As the pillars of society slay our un-known champion
In what they claim as an honour of sacrificial circumstance.
Blown out of proportion, who knew? Who could have known?
That laid upon the alter stone they would find archaic angels bound.

poem by David Lacey
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You Made Me Just Another Stepping Stone

You claim to be all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.
What are you trying to conquer?
Do you see the pearly gates laying beneath all that money?
Why cant you do what you love?
Is it really asking to much?

You claim to be all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.
Is this something I'm suppose to condone.
No I won't.
No please don't.
Your starting to cry.
I can see the tears in your eyes.
This is the hardest goodbye I will ever know.
And all you can say is so, so, so what get f*cked.

You claim to be all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.
I'm sorry but that's all gone.
The manipulation has become extremely aggravating.
No more deviations from the here and now.
I don't need the why.
For greed is the credence for it all.
Yet you still explain away.
Like I will again be the sucker of the day.
You seem vexed.
Its not that complex.
I just don't give a sh*t.
Not no more.
Not like before.
I cant believe in illusions so fake that if I touch them they might just break.

You claim to be all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.
The seeds have been sewn.
The bait has been set. In this trap I wonder who you will get.
Will you ever love and regret.
In your eyes we met.
It was a flirtatious bet.
Words were said.
Somehow we ended up in together.
You said forever as you were trying to use me till I had nothing left.
But I knew, and I told you it just doesn't work that way.
Listen to the words I say.

You claim to be all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.
Just another stepping stone.
So be alone and ask nothing more of me.
Please don't lie and say you loved me.
Antagonistic and unrealistic.

You claim to be all alone, all alone.
You made me just another stepping stone.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Joseph Campbell Knew

Joseph knew the power of myth
This champion of archaic allegory
Storyteller, Master Wordsmith
Of magical, mythological stories

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Lone Bone

and then when we arrive at the prime
after a hard climb only to find nothing but thyme

life tastes like lime and we begin to mime
what to us was all grime and slime

to our face the ill-winds are blown
and what remains is the clown

we feel now that a clone has grown
inside ourselves we find what we own

the seeds have been sown in the throne
of the stone where our lips are sewn

the moan is thrown
& now back to the lone bone

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Saddle

Saddle, addle, sad, add, deal, dad;
But, on the same day with your muse! !
From me and, to you;
For, the alter split apart and,
The ashes poured out from the alter.

Saddle, lead, lad, led, seal, sea, ale, dead;
And of your high places! !
But, she cried out for mercy!
And, like the muse of your offerings.

A son shall be born in your house as a sign! !
Because, the gift of peace had bbeen offered to you;
And, you need to saddle on to the land of joy.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The pillars of truth and the pillars of freedom - they are the pillars of society.

quote by Henrik Ibsen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hendecasyllabics

In the month of the long decline of roses
I, beholding the summer dead before me,
Set my face to the sea and journeyed silent,
Gazing eagerly where above the sea-mark
Flame as fierce as the fervid eyes of lions
Half divided the eyelids of the sunset;
Till I heard as it were a noise of waters
Moving tremulous under feet of angels
Multitudinous, out of all the heavens;
Knew the fluttering wind, the fluttered foliage,
Shaken fitfully, full of sound and shadow;
And saw, trodden upon by noiseless angels,
Long mysterious reaches fed with moonlight,
Sweet sad straits in a soft subsiding channel,
Blown about by the lips of winds I knew not,
Winds not born in the north nor any quarter,
Winds not warm with the south nor any sunshine;
Heard between them a voice of exultation,
'Lo, the summer is dead, the sun is faded,
Even like as a leaf the year is withered,
All the fruits of the day from all her branches
Gathered, neither is any left to gather.
All the flowers are dead, the tender blossoms,
All are taken away; the season wasted,
Like an ember among the fallen ashes.
Now with light of the winter days, with moonlight,
Light of snow, and the bitter light of hoarfrost,
We bring flowers that fade not after autumn,
Pale white chaplets and crowns of latter seasons,
Fair false leaves (but the summer leaves were falser),
Woven under the eyes of stars and planets
When low light was upon the windy reaches
Where the flower of foam was blown, a lily
Dropt among the sonorous fruitless furrows
And green fields of the sea that make no pasture:
Since the winter begins, the weeping winter,
All whose flowers are tears, and round his temples
Iron blossom of frost is bound for ever.'

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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What we worship guides our thirst...

Only he God can charge or judge
The ink, that pores-out its blood.
That algae-spore" of each, dreams-drudge,
That made its way—out; from the crud.

"Only he who's skipped, between the stone-
Rocks of the alternant—current
Knows where each" lost breath, lays sewn.
All are archaic, indulgent.

"What we worship guides our thirst...
The mountain pastures, the glassy-glade.
The foot-pounding-city-streets, cloudburst:
Life's passing" promenade.

poem by Mark Heathcote
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(I'm Not Your) Steppin' Stone

I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
You're trying to make your mark in society
Using all the tricks that you used on me.
You're reading all those high fashion magazines
The clothes you're wearin' girl are causing public scenes.
I said
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.
When I first met you girl you didn't have no shoes
Now you're walking 'round like you're front page news.
You've been awful careful 'bout the friends you choose
But you won't find my name in your book of Who's Who.
I said
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
I I I I I'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steppin' Stone

(i'm not your) steppin' stone
By tommy boyce and bobby hart
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
You're trying to make your mark in society
Your using all the tricks that you used on me.
You're reading all them high fashion magazines
The clothes you're wearin' girl are causing public scenes.
I said
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.
When i first met you girl you didn't have no shoes
Now you're walking 'round like you're front page news.
You've been awful careful 'bout the friends you choose
But you won't find my name in your book of who's who.
I said
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
I i i i i'm not your stepping stone
Not your stepping stone,
Not your stepping stone.

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Around The Plynth

(rod stewart, ron wood)
Woken up on mornings such as this
And thought exactly the same as Im thinking now.
Every night for a year Ive slept alone.
Cold damp room looks worse than me, no no no
Got a fear of death that creeps on every night.
I know I wont die soon, but then again I might,
Water down the drain, Im wasting away.
And doctors cant help me a ghost of a man thats me, no no
Water down the drain goes to the sea,
The pattern of my life keeps a-haunting me.
Moisture from the ocean fills the sky,
Come on down to the ground as the time goes by, no no no no no
Slow down there
I never found out the reason why
Why my parents had to lie
About the place that I was born
And from my hometown I was torn
At the tender age of four
I was livin by a homemade law
I never knew when it was to be laid
My desires are never displayed
I never knew what it was to be loved
I never knew what it was to be laid
I never knew what it was to win
I never knew what it was to be loved, nonono
Ah, get on up there
I never knew what it was to be loved
I never knew what it was to be laid
Nonononono
Slow down there

song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pillars Of Our Society

see the pillars of our society.
the church, the provincial and municipal halls,
the university, the house of the family,

try to hold these pillars and feel their
strength and width, you think that they are
too strong to protect you

try piercing each pillar with the questions
deep from your heart
ask if they are that strong to make you
strong too
and protect you till the last breath
of your suffering and pain

ask more questions and find out the answers
from all these pillars
lean on them, and touch them and
shoot them with the bullets of your
quizzical looks

listen carefully to the correct answers
and stare at all of them

slowly, these pillars will crumble
and turn to powder for in truth there is no
other pillar stronger than what
they have constructed for you through all these years

except the pillar that your body built
on your legs from the bottom of your feet

it is you ultimately that you can only lean on
you to protect you
till the last breath of you is finally taken away.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lake Of Fire

(by the meat puppets)
Where do bad folks go when they die?
They dont go to heaven where the angels fly
They go down to the lake of fire and fry
Wont see them again till the fourth of july
I knew a lady who came from duluth
She got bit by a dog with a rabid tooth
She went to her grave just a little too soon
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon
Now the people cry and the people moan
And they look for a dry place to call their home
And try to find some place to rest their bones
While the angels and the devils
Fight to claim them for their own

song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do you know what we are those of us who count as pillars of society? We are society's tools, neither more nor less.

quote by Henrik Ibsen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Descending Overtones

With each descending step I hear the beat
of sacrificial chants of those who know.
The stone is cold and grey beneath my feet.

The pungent smell is damp and bittersweet.
Within these halls the music seems to flow,
with each descending step I hear the beat.

The altar room is secret and discrete,
with eerie chants that truly seem to grow.
The stone is cold and grey beneath my feet.

Author notes -
Villanelle:
A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme:
aba aba aba aba aba abaa.
The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines) .
Form Resource: shadowpoetry.com

My wrists are bound, a feeling of defeat,
a severed heart to feed the gods libido.
With each descending step I hear the beat.

My time has come this act will not repeat,
I hear the chants and see the lamps aglow.
The stone is cold and grey beneath my feet.

My heart becomes the sacrificial meat
as now my life approaches its crescendo.
With each descending step I hear the beat,
the stone is cold and grey beneath my feet.

poem by Amera Andersen
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Offerings

Offerings...
Look what youre offering
By your hands, youve emptied my soul
But Ill find some time
Ill find somewhere to grow
Look out now
Has your mind been changed by the loss of this memory?
Roll on
Youve got some time on your hands for where you are now
Bleeding the offerings
Yes you are now
Bleeding the offerings
My time to sit you all down
My time to save you all now
My time to lay it all out
My time
See what youre offering
See I open my eyes
Your face seems to speak aloud
Seeing it all in my eyes
I see some things in your eyes that have never been shown before
Roll on
Believing it all in my eyes
Youve got these needs but Ive got somewhere to go now now
So leave it alone, its my time
With so little time its so hard to find somewhere to go
Bleeding the offerings
Yes you are now
Bleeding the offerings
My time to sit you all down
My time to save you all now
My time to lay it all out
My time to save your souls again
My time to sit you all down now
My time to save you all now
My time to lay it all out
My time

song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Men Honoured Above Angels

Now let us join with hearts and tongues,
And emulate the angels' songs;
Yea, sinners may address their King
In songs that angels cannot sing.

They praise the Lamb who once was slain;
But we can add a higher strain;
Not only say, "He suffer'd thus,
"But that he suffer'd all for us."

When angels by transgression fell,
Justice consign'd them all to hell;
But Mercy form'd a wondrous plan,
To save and honour fallen man.

Jesus, who pass'd the angels by,
Assum'd our flesh to bleed and die;
And still he makes it his abode;
As man he fills the throne of God.

Our next of kin, our Brother now,
Is he to whom the angels bow;
They join with us to praise his name,
But we the nearest int'rest claim.

But, ah! how faint our praises rise!
Sure, 'tis the wonder of the skies,
That we, who share his richest love,
So cold and unconcern'd should prove.

Oh, glorious hour, it comes with speed!
When we, from sin and darkness freed,
Shall see the God who died for man,
And praise him more than angels can.

poem by John Newton
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The Rule Of Life Expanded

IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee e'er;
If any loss thou hast to rue,
Act as though thou wert born anew;
Inquire the meaning of each day,
What each day means itself will say;
In thine own actions take thy pleasure,
What others do, thou'lt duly treasure;
Ne'er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.

-----

IF wealth is gone--then something is gone!

Quick, make up thy mind,

And fresh wealth find.
If honour is gone--then much is gone!

Seek glory to find,

And people then will alter their mind.
If courage is gone--then all is gone!
'Twere better that thou hadst never been born.

-----

HE who with life makes sport,

Can prosper never;
Who rules himself in nought,

Is a slave ever.

MAY each honest effort be

Crown'd with lasting constancy.

-----

EACH road to the proper end
Runs straight on, without a bend.

poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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It only stands to reason that where there's sacrifice, there's someone collecting the sacrificial offerings. Where there's service, there is someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice is speaking of slaves and masters, and intends to be the master.

quote by Ayn Rand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-Immolation Petrol Sprinkle Sacrificial Meals

burning with self fire now need to get sacrifices done
for people carpet bombed napalm burned nowhere to run
self-immolation petrol sprinkle with sacrificial meals
people targeted with no knight champion to rescue lives

when day night rain fire comes flesh burns never survives
we bronze monks setting self on fire peace protester screams
killing sacrificial victims is an old tradition modern bombs
burning with napalm fire ashes in wind were once eyes thumbs

poem by Terence George Craddock
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City Of Angels

(5/8/12)

There's a city of angels where all angels dwell
A city of angels I can tell.
They wait for their assignments from
The saints up above
To watch over GODS children that he loves.

The city of angels where there is no such thing as sleep
The city of angels where the LORDS words they keep.
This is where they sing and rejoice and give praise
For their destinies have been laid.

This is a world of spirituality - something that
We as humans do not see.
A world where there is no sickness or pain
And all the angels are the same.

There is no such thing as color or religious barriers
For they are all the LORDS carriers.
Many get their wings in the transition
From life to death, and many have not gotten theirs yet.

When they get their wings it is a great feeling
Which gets their souls reeling.
It is like a bright star that enters you
And his love just radiates through.

The city of angels where true happiness lies
That is what you will find.
Your loved ones that have gone before you
Are there to see you thru, and to help you
At every turn, the same way that they had learned.

They see their subjects on a large monitor screen
And what that person is going thru, then the answers
Are left for you.
Like a multiple choice you must pick the one that's right
To get them from the darkness to light.

But not to worry for there are no mistakes
In GODS heaven that can be made
For their destinies have also been laid.
You are there to strengthen them in their hours of need
And on your strength they do feed.

To all in the city of angels - I raise my head
And stand with pride, that one day soon
I'll be by your side.

(angels above - angels below)

poem by Louis Rams
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