Poetry Societies
Poetry Societies
cherish their chosen
poet with such passionate
fervour ardent intensity
promote them safeguard them
maintain religiously preserve
their sacred recordings writings
like interactive shrine museums
white gloves sealed immaculate
pristine white when handling
sacred artifacts from centuries past
holy relics encased in icon niche
keepers of sacred
poetic fire
protectors of
treasured Holy Grails
documents deemed
culturally significant
immensely revered in
mausoleum pilgrimage
keeping the eternal
flame burning
sacrament safeguarded
held in perpetual
trust for future generations
devotees destined to recognize
hallowed intrinsic wisdom
reverence read upon every page
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sacred Holy Breath
Sacred holy breath
Flows gentle across my chest
Not a sound no air displaced
Not a tear no second guess
Just peace, in my sacred face
Just released love that was put to test
Having hands holding each others fears
Holding hands fate-ing future seers
More than holy we have arrived
Even in this insanity our time abides
sacred Holy, breathe again
Sacred Breath Holy again and again
Flows gentle if this wind
Your love can send
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The White Owl saying 2
Fire is dangerous
but not if you are the fire
said the white owl
My fire sits on a red chair
and I am not consumed
They say the holy fire requires
sacred mantras, holy pourings
and no ordinary twigs
but the inner most brittle bones
of my lazy body
and an overactive mind
that makes the flames go up
turning me into a heap of grey ash,
like my wings
said the white owl.
* * *
poem by Prathibha Nandakumar
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Sacred And Eternal
I am fortunate to be a poet with words periodical
I am fortunate to write poems sacred and eternal.
I am fortunate to see the world in new look
I am fortunate to be in poetic imagination
With evergreen colors sacred and eternal.
I am fortunate to be a part and parcel of the world
That is yours and only yours
And you are for all sacred and eternal.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sacrament
I hear you breathe so far from here
I feel your touch so close and real
And I know
My church is not of silver and gold,
It's glory lies beyond judgement of souls
The commandments are of consolation and warmth
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
I hear you weep so far from here
I taste your tears like you're next to me
And I know
my weak prayers are not enough to heal
The ancient wounds so deep and so dear
The revelation is of hatred and fear
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream won't fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sacrament
I hear you breathe so far from me
I feel your touch so close and real
And I know
My church is not of silver and gold,
Its glory lies beyond judgement of souls
The commandments are of consolation oh
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
I hear you weep so far from me
I taste your tears like youre next to me
And I know
That our prayers are not enough to give
Oh the ancient runes so deep and so dear
The revelation is our patron fear
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
You know our sacred dream wont fail
The sanctuary tender and so frail
The sacrament of love
The sacrament of warmth is true
The sacrament is you
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Merkabah
Some tell of love stories where fire becomes a mother in healing
Wheels within wheels, where hell becomes a myth, and heaven becomes the
present
The cosmic chariot of the soul, the sacred fire, and transfiguration of
energy
It comes from the deep darkness within ones Neshamah,
Prayer to the divine Elohim, and the18th breath of life
Once ascended in that ring of fire, a being can fly beyond space and
sky
Some call it the fire in the sky, seen only through sacred third eyes
Sweet like the spirit of the sacred Shekinah,
One key in Metatronics
The visual, spiritual, and the physical, all become one in this hour of
light
To the holy vehicle of ascension, sacred and pure, flower of life
poem by Josephe Buchanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Varanasi
Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi
A revered shrine at bank of holy river Ganges.
Founded by God himself, Lord Shiva's adobe Kashi
Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi.
Bathing in Ganges purifies soul and remits the sin,
Dying in Kashi ensures, obtaining the final release.
Religious and cultural centre, holy city Varanasi
A revered shrine at bank of holy river Ganges.
***
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven,
Ghat, temples and festivals, are icons of Varanasi.
Sacred river, sacred place; Hindu's great pilgrimage
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven.
The city has given birth to many great personalities
Great souls Tulsi, Kabir, Ravidas lived in varanasi.
Morning mantra hymns make you feel in heaven
Ghat, temples and festivals, are icons of Varanasi.
***
Varanasi is the city, where Budhism was founded
Sarnath, Budhist's holy place, is too in Varanasi.
First sermon to his disciples Budha here sounded
Varanasi is the city where Budhism was founded.
Glorified by creation of great music and literature,
Classical folk culture, music, craft and philosophy.
Varanasi is the city where Budhism was founded
Sarnath, Budhist's holy place, is too in Varanasi.
***
Triolet form
(C) S. D. Tiwari
sdtiwari1(at) gmail(dot) com
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain
Pain. Pain in the body.
Pain in the mind.
Pain. Feel the pain.
Go to the centre of it.
In the centre, a flame.
A cool, warm, steady, white, white flame
so white, that
it is more light than white.
Cool as detachment.
Warm as love.
Bright as enlightenment;
burning the unnecessary.
The flame of healing,
as old as the world.
As old as olive trees and oil and sacred lamps,
as old as wisdom.
In the flame, an angel.
That is what the angel said.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chosen People
Glory is on our way[? ]
Worship the sun, great spirit.
Born of the mother earth,
Seek for the true white brother.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
It is written in our prophecy,
[it is written in our prophecy]
That we shall find the true white brother,
[we shall find the true white brother]
Who will help us, joined together, to build humanity.
There is a place for everyone.
We are the chosen people, give back our holy land.
We are the ever forest, we are great spirits hand.
She will call us soon,
She will shake her body,
Bringing your land to ruin.
Why will the world not hear us?
We are most ancient teachers, we know great spirits plan.
We learned by natures secrets, the inner side of man.
We are the chosen people, give back our sacred land.
We are the four grandfathers, a destiny for man.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sacred Trust
(b, r & m gibb)
I meant to fight it to the finish but you made me forget
And though its possible Im dreaming, dont wake me yet
You know I love you
I cant see the day for night
You know I twist around and turn around and then I give in
You end up in control of me its really a sin
I dont know what youre doing to me
But I know its a crime
And baby I cant last another night
And every moment is eternity
And from the depth of my soul
Cant let another day go by
I follow my heart right up to the end
As far as the eye can see
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
I know where my arms should be
Im faithful and true and making it through
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust in me
You take me and you break me and you do what you please
I stumble and I tremble and Im weak at the knees
The vision that lies before me is not reality
I tell you I cant wait another night
For every secret that your soul reveals
And you and I may get to know
That its real, that its real
I follow my heart that leads me to you
And all that my love should be (you know Im talking to you)
And you can be sure Im doing it for
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
Theres nowhere my heart should be (you know Im calling to you)
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust in me
I follow my heart right up to the end
As far as the eye can see
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
I know where my arms should be
Im faithful and true and making it through
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust
I follow my heart that leads me to you
And all that my love should be (you know Im calling to you)
And you can be sure Im doing it for
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
Theres nowhere my heart should be (you know Im calling to you)
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh you gatherer
Oh you gatherer
of the fine ash of poetry
ash of the too-white flame
of poetry
Consider those who have burned before you
in the so-white fire
Crucible of Keats and Campana
Bruno and Sappho
Rimbaud and Poe and Corso
And Shelley burning on the beach
at Viarreggio
And now in the night
in the general conflagration
the white light
still consuming us
small clowns
with our little tapers
held to the flame
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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Wedding Song
Ive been having dreams and visions
In them you are always standing
Right beside me
I reach out for your hand
To see your arms extending
Outstretched towards me
For you I don the veil
By your light
Others pale by comparison
I place my faith in love
My fate in this communication
Ive been having dreams and visions
In them you are always standing
Right beside me
I reach out for your hand
To see your arms extending
Outstretched towards me
To you I give my pledge
I honor all thats good
In this life were living
To think not only of myself
But of the greater union
Can I get a witness
There is salvation and rapture for the lonely
Can I get a witness
Bless this day sacred and holy
Sacred and holy
Ive been having dreams and visions
In them you are always standing
Right beside me
I reach out for your hand
To see your arms extending
Outstretched towards me
With you I am revealed
All my shame all my faults and virtues
Behold body mind and spirit
Heart and soul devoted all to you
Can I get a witness
Bless this day sacred and holy
Sacred and holy
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Goldfish
Who will care
for my poems
when I die?
I have no goldfish
or pet cat
to give away.
My poems will cuddle up
serenely curl up with you
on a long winter’s evening.
My poems will swim and flash
tails of intricate golden detail
on a long cozy winter’s evening.
Who will care
for my poems
when I am gone?
Goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species somewhere.
Poems are also
a sacred life force.
For it is the task appointed
to the divine poet to render;
foolish humanity worthy
when seeking redemption,
through hidden wisdom written
within sealed lines, in a starlit poem.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jerusalem, Jerusalem How Glad
Jerusalem, Jerusalem how glad
am I in prayer to have stood;
in thee blessed city at remains
of thy second temple’s walls.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I sacred Via Dolorosa walked;
in remembrance atonement passed
stations of The Cross to have passed.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Oh how glad
am I who before entering sacred;
Garden of Gethsemane to view aged
olive trees was cast down humbled.
For Jesus in agony fear here sweated
blood in prayer to heaven to father God;
when last among these olives he stood
thus rejoice all bowed before our Lord.
In pilgrimage to Calvary where our Lord
for my sins humanities Christ was Crucified;
where a group of witnesses Marys stood
bewailing in heart soul worship as we should.
This most Holy City Jerusalem City of our God
site of our Saviour’s Cross where our Saviour trod;
Almighty God this is thy most sacred Holy City still
at Messiah’s return here raise holy men at thy will.
The Via Dolorosa (Latin for Way of Grief or Way of Suffering) is the sacred two part street, within the Old City of Jerusalem; where Jesus walked carrying the cross, on the way to his crucifixion.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Amoretti XXII: This Holy Season
This holy season, fit to fast and pray,
Men to devotion ought to be inclin'd:
Therefore I likewise on so holy day,
For my sweet saint some service fit will find.
Her temple fair is built within my mind,
In which her glorious image placed is,
On which my thoughts do day and night attend,
Like sacred priests that never think amiss.
There I to her as th' author of my bliss,
Will build an altar to appease her ire:
And on the same my heart will sacrifice,
Burning in flames of pure and chaste desire:
The which vouchsafe, O goddess, to accept,
Amongst thy dearest relics to be kept.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Swift Kill Biting Mosquitoes
goldfish are a sacred species
cats are a sacred species
all life is a sacred species
somewhere to their devotees...
already a few honour all species
already a few honour all life
Buddhists honour all life sacred
most swift kill biting mosquitoes...
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sacred Ground
Iced over, close your eyes. whisper the flame, it takes us higher.
Seems our world is closing around. when Im inside you, you bring me to sacred ground.
When Im inside you, you bring me to sacred ground.
Now youre the one that I want, you know its true.
Let go of everything, open up to me.
Im right beside you, Ill be your watchful eye.
I send waves of devotion over you. you take it all in and give it back, give it back again.
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
Yes well love till theres nothing left to give...
Matching every movement, swimming in an ocean of sweat, and scent of you. it drives me to ...
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
I know I can change your mind. give it to me the same way.
Giving it all up for love, I know that you feel the same way.
Id give it all up for you, I swear I would.
Now Im falling, falling inside ...
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground, when Im inside you.
You bring me to sacred ground.
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sacred Election
Sacred
sacred right,
the right to vote.
Sacred
sacred right
to be elected.
The people's votes are tallied
The best choice is declared.
Let no one manipulate the result
Let no one tamper the votes
Let no one buy people's votes
and strip the voters
their sacred right to choose.
Let this election
truly reflect
people's sacred rights.
___________________
November 6,2012
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Tabula Rasa.
Rondel Prime.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
Although I try my muse insists.
I take my pen and start to write.
I quickly find to my delight
My muse is ready to assist.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
An empty page a welcome sight
To a poetic formalist
Or even to a modernist.
To anyone compelled to write.
A pristine page of purest white.
A challenge that I can't resist.
Sunday,14 October 2012.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Secret Place
i only have the key to that door.
i can open it anytime and stay there for a while
away from the crowd
away from the daily occurrences
it is a closed door
conference with myself where i talk and listen at the same time
it is dark but it is peaceful
it is small but everything in me is there: whole and intact
i only have the key
and i am not opening
or when i open it
i keep it closed that way
it is sacred
as sacred as my secret
it is holy
as holy as my soul
it is a mystery
for all the things that i worship
it is mine
and you are not welcome.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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