Saturday, October 29, 2016

I Sat A Queen

I Sat A Queen

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)


I
sat a queen

collectively
'we'

adorned in purple and silks red

not poly woven
or threaded

by willing/unwilling
members dreadfully scorned

their ensembles

humbled sackcloth and ashes
tattered

worn by laity

some tragically born

during centuries
of dark violent surrender.

Costly

yes, impressive
in our glorious dress of splendor

we did abide
in secreted hides

under carvings
of ornate gold.

No substance conveyed
as an opulent pretender.

Yes,

over the heads
of our self-imposed crowns
filled with jewels

desirable

to all hungry
of every gender

for whom
boldly we bought
from multi-merchants
who from far lands

sought

whatever our hearts
contrived to dream

so many could schmooze us
while we consorted

curiously curled
beneath duvets of feathers

titillated by sweet morsels
and once tender limbs

some squeamish
but other delighted
not to squirm

but to deliciously scream.

Ah, yes!

Protected,
we were by military teams
whose lives to their country
dutifully

they rendered

toting
artillery ammunition
in the fast
disappearing past

on two-wheeled
wooded
limbers.

I do remember:

I

sat a queen

collectively
'we'

deemed
to promote gaiety
wondrous

within realms of international
royalty

kings and princes
reigning
during variant

sovereignties
thunderous

while not perched on our heads

a crown of twisted thorns
by one mutilated

whose hands
professed multitudes

an uneducated
man of flesh

fed

his lips spoke
simple supposed

'truths'

about
ancient and future
stories

who

in useless
humility
read

about
some human forefathers
long dead

yet,

I

in theory
and all practiced tradition

led the world
straight ahead

although

it has been said

our teachings
'tickled the ears'
with patronizing
platitudes

instilling
crippling fears

causing
parents to offer
on nationalistic altars

offspring
who sadly bled
for greedy demons

thirsty for power,
money and blood

laughing and cruel.

Young adult children
taken

driven and schooled

yet,

in death or insanity

no honor for them
really served.

But really

didn't we give them
what they deserved?

Parades and accolades
metals and plots

and days of remembrance
for them

annually reserved?


Wickedness
is with the heathen one

food

for all of their brood

where war internal is there bred

and propaganda is the topping
worldwide being spread?

Why then this sudden display
to forcefully dismount us
from our religious throne?

And why
did the many
wait for this day

to our utter
death

in eternity lay?

Who gave this king
these very sharp teeth
to rip us to ribbons

to flutter in agony
and flail in defeat?

Why say

in a God-appointed hour
our systems were breached

when heard the cry:

"Get out of her my people!"
A international throng did preach.

'Be afraid to remain inside her gates
for surely you will die.'

They exposed to all
what we didn't call lies.

And why did the U.N.
sneakily conspire

then as one
powerfully
in unity

divinely act:

Our crown
to eternally
retire

when we operated
as one

contracted
in pact?

No more will we be able to interact

with kings
and commerce.

To riches aspire.

I
no longer
sit a queen
with a territory
vast or not
to bequeath.

*

The smoke
from her fire

ascends

as incense
to the heavens

to the One

whose name
she did not utter
in righteous defense.

In shame her actions
did her proclaim:

Harlot...Babylon the Great.

Killer of the prophets and holy ones
and all of those who have been slaughtered on the earth

her sad claim to destructive fame.















Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Royal Wear

Royal Wear

by Seah Greenhorn
( Poem with copyright ) 

 



Bought
'Truth'

is a garment
of Royal value.

Its threads
spun gold

worn over
a girdle of discipline


must never be sold.

With the pearls of wisdom
draping one's neck
tapping the heart
beneath one's breast

and the headdress of understanding
gracing one's thoughts

one is surely bedecked
in splendor

though in humility
walks.





Friday, August 12, 2016

Courage

COURAGE

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)





Outward
stance
displaying
inward
dance
on
fear.



Monday, July 4, 2016

The Mirror Speaks


The Mirror Speaks

by Seah Greenhorn 
( Poem with copyright ) 



Daily
accessible

once as polished stone,
bronze or copper, later tin,
silver, even gold. Hazy and thin.

Until the first century C.E.
when mirrored glass did us befriend.

Yes, to adjust or correct
the persona outward
reflecting impurities or beauty
buried within.

Not to
is a travesty.

Us in pretend,

since,
no one is perfect
'as is'

not needing a tweak, a redo
or makeover more profound:

reconstructive surgery
through-and-through.

The reflective surface,
like crystal water on a pristine lake
can help us improve
or erase a flaw or minor mistake

if not forgotten
the image we saw
before a swift and speedy withdraw.

If we don't defend it.
Don't let ourselves protect the raw.

If we turn away
without a thought
as if to say:
"I'm fine this or any given day"

then, question, the mirror,
it ought:

"Why then was I purchased?
For whom was I bought?"

Leaving it to symbolically spin its back
as we aggressively attempt to fend off
another's persona's verbal attacks
against our appearance. About our lacks.

So,

to examine the reflection is to refine;
is to put to good use a tool divine.

Friday, May 27, 2016

Wasted?

Wasted?

by Seah Greenhorn
(Poem with copyright)



My eyes detected dense smoke afar off.
Closer. My nose twitched; I began to choke.
Ground underneath me shook; it rattled.
Fear overtook. I curled--head to knees; then peeked.

Look! A ladder appeared from invisible overhead.
I gazed in confusion; then instead looked forward.
A strong voice suggested, "The rung! Take hold!"
Though, bold, I stay chained to a stupor. To No Safety Swung.

Thursday, May 19, 2016

Inevitable? No.

Inevitable? No.
by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)
As manure

on its surface--
the total earth

a universal war
to give due birth

to banquet feeding
vast birds to fill,

while cleansing lands of carcasses
grand and small. Young and old.
Consumed all:

Those tragically dead
who know
but hate to or don't abide.

Those who don't know
but by choice
decide

do show

The Creator

their hides,
backs stiff;
necks too.

Courses stubborn.
Apathetic.

His Government
sadly

flatly refused.

Leaving the Almighty
no other recourse.

Like fathers who love their disobedient children; but who must let go
of the reigns

to alcoholism, drugs and other detrimentals careening their offspring into future graves. As their other progeny, parents seek to save.

What other reasonable solution
for a God of justice, of wisdom,

who allowed an opportunity of 'freewill' to use

wisely or not?

Prideful human intelligence
craves

their own will to do.

So,

Time sped centuries
to gather ones whose
hearts abound
in love

to glow

in brotherhood upon a hill.

Seen
unity learned
values
still performed

instill

morality, loyalty, integrity.

Nasty words
thrown out of the dark cavern
of this old, but new
humanity

narcissistic in its extreme love
of self,

of temporary pleasures,

causing children and animals to scatter; then scream. Their blood sacrificed for sadistic means.

Then target, they, cowards
who hide their weakened minds inclined to kindness,

but whose soft spines bind them as victims enslaved

abused

left, self loathing.

Balled and curled in corners for hours and hours and hours without mental or physical power.

Thus to stay?

Or toting firepower to spray innocents
creating horrible headlines to international news relay.

We must pray

for one another
in sincerity
to find

gain strength
to stiffen or determine
who will win:

The one you want or need to be.
Or the one to others
your freedom's slayed.

Choose a way.

Don't just flow the path of bats blinded by their own suns, though surrounded by cats in shadowed caves mimicking,

then growls,

since lacking ability to garner a bright and fleeting light.
Meowing thoughts wildly into the wind to watch wobbly flights and hear echoes to rewind and twirl as whirlwinds wastefully spun or damage caused. Arrogantly done.

When day-to-day
evidence is at hand.

Delivered gracefully, without always pomp and circumstance.

Our lives denote purpose, not some random plan.

True,

beauty abounds in tragic art.
Fluid, liquid in dance displayed.
Sung and strummed upon various hearts.
Words of lost lovers that end in suicides or other equal darks.

Diversions

from a Future soon to come.

Time To Prepare.

Survival promised
for an unnumbered sum.

Plan intelligently.
Not like in Noah's day.

Do what you want after examining the proof. Not just do what others say.

It's Your Life
and your children's

you'll

Eternally Obtain
or Everlastingly

Lose.

Choose Life without further delay
On an Earth Renewed and Wonderfully designed
for Heartwarming work and leisurely play.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Intimate Friends

Intimate Friends
 
by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)
 
 
 
 
Sat still;

pondered
intently watched

did not scurry away
at the march of the ants
at ardent work,

not superfluous play.

So many species
delighted by their service

plants, butterflies,
insects and more.

I sit still

watch in my yard
where a gentle breeze
brought me outdoors to these

Ants in motion constant,
non-discreet.

Acacia trees
in friendship
ants keep

to destroy
threatening choking vines
discovered

as they patrol the grounds
of generously provided
hollowed home of thorns

rewarded by sweet nectar
divine. This union one blessed

kind.

Aphids too
love their companionship
dispensing
secreted

delicious honeydew

attached to ant antennas
aroused by a gentle stroking.

What appreciation,
what devotion

as ants nightly carry away aphids
then return them in daylight's rising
only to leaves
younger, more nourishing

saving older leaves to flourish another day.

What wisdom
partnerships

to humans display!

Too, the large blue butterflies, the red ants befriends

as caterpillars
in awkward stages
time to begin.

Before beautiful bodies do fly
ants to them do tend;
their reward: sugary excretions--
Not minimal. Not thin.

Emerging from chrysalis,
gently they fly

lovely flutterings
to please our wondrous eyes
in uplifted gaze
to the yellow sun

dackdropped
puffy clouds amid tranquil skies

as ant's nests
stay unharmed;
safe in gratitude

as mankind's
marvelous examples.

The Ant
created by means
of the Creator's holy spirit.
His magnificent and loving

Spiritual Arms.