Monday, July 17, 2017

Broken ... My Silence

Broken ... My Silence

Delicate raindrops
dripping

resplendent drops
resembling crystals falling

chipping away at us

till broken

then swept swiftly away

your love

left me
yearning

created
a fatigued heart

you were once here
holding me without fear

now nowhere near
as I cry out for you
from shadows

withdrawn

behind curtains
of cascading
water

falling

revealing

emotions
once hidden inside

do not deride me
forever

my pride
no longer does hide

as delicate raindrops
dripping

resplendent drops
rinses away hope

leaving me
spiraling in my lost

this cost raising me too high
as this river of my tears rises me to drown
under thundering why's

tumulus
memories

heavy
I bury

to survive
delicate raindrops

stripping away at my desire
to thrive

do you hear me
can you hear me

calling out
calling out for your return

do you hear me
can you hear me

my heart yearns
appeals to you

forever to burn

do you hear me
can you hear me

please love

do not me
endless
spurn

my heart yearns
to again with you flame
as a fire brilliant in darkest nights

do you hear me
can you hear me

please love

to me
circle

in a whirlwind

replenish
my delight

in living

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Poison

Poison

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)



Poison
judiciously
drunk

preserves
life

None.



12899403-Poison-by-Seah-

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Darkness


DARKNESS

by Seah Greenhorn
poem with copyright

Darkness

existed not in their lives
except in night's rhythmic tranquil form.

Stars gently guided lids to slowly dip
till each new day's rebirth enlightened hungry eyes
raised to receding shadowy un-hafted horizons undefined.

A spoken spite did ignite bites to bitterness conceive
in hidden caverns breeding death through cancerous disease-
a spreading blight to kill first slowly though thoroughly eternal delights.

Heavenly dreads then groans when words of envy deceived an innocent one
thrusting aside loyalty, trust, respect, even love for dripping lust; thieving greed.
Universally astonished screams, possibly, as another's traitorous chews ensued.

Begetting an atmosphere of gloom plus doom consuming the universe,
as an once angelic son reborn demon seemingly dishonorably won
hearts, minds in treachery's deceit.  Was righteousness defeated?

Succeeding for centuries: surging bloody waterfalls drenching
all, especially the sad, blind, seemingly spineless souls
sacrificed endlessly in satanic revelries boldly cold.

Diminished: morals, ignorantly destroyed; void?
A majority's desire for an endless joyful life

by following a beckoning Light into which
this darkness cannot resist. Though,

this world tragically prefers
a dense darkness
indefinitely

Reserved.



Monday, September 12, 2016

A Smorgasbord on Which to Gorge


A Smorgasbord on Which to Gorge

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)

"All things... that you want men to do to you,
you also must do to them."

This today we should hum in hymn
after first digesting this tasty gem.

If complacent
in my home, with family
or solely alone,

would anger heat my satisfied bones
if knocks or ringing of my phone
interrupted my solitude,
my games of glee,
my sleep,

or my mere apathy?

"What do you want?...
Who bussed you in;
gave you the key

to open the gate and harass me?

I have my own;
am fine as I am.

What you have
I think is cult or scam!"

"I am sorry to pause your time; it's just in your interest I did climb your steps to seek you out.

The message is good; I'd love to shout!

But, it can also be bad
to those not hearing. Since an exterminator is arriving;
to do a thorough clearing

of pests:

of mice in men,
who scatter,

since housing a crippling fear
sadly within;

of rats and snakes
who poison or infect,
leaving infestation or venom
weak souls
ingested

now unable to vomit
or systematically fight;

of raging dogs
by rabies defined.

Yes,
sad their state,
but, when biting
bold.

Yet,

if not inclined
to help

accept,

the remedy can only be quick and in depth
to reach the Owner's noble goal:

Eliminate all that
won't be controlled
after explicit instructions

to sanctify inner places;

to eliminate hatred
cultivated
in secret or external spaces;

and genuinely be neighborly

exhibiting true love
to an intense degree.

I am sure you're not as one of these.

So, please,
bear with me a moment more

for, if you knew and believed the future for sure
you'd be with me in this work to procure
persons with humble and honest hearts.

To give them hope of justice soon
Our Creator admonishes us to happily impart.

To tell them of this Grand Master's Plan:

His "Day of Judgement"
to engulf the Land.

For these dear ones to

"Seek Jehovah,
all you meek ones of the earth,
who observe his righteous decrees.

Seek righteousness,
seek meekness.

Probably
you will be
concealed

on the day of Jehovah’s anger."

This time
soon
to be revealed.

"A Great Tribulation"
prophesied.

So all sincere worshippers must gather together to survive;
yes, to safely live through it.

From his denunciation be hidden
as the wicked cannot hide.
Since His commandments, a stench, they cannot abide.

Therefore,
as a 'watchman'
we're trained to proceed
in sounding the final warnings
internationally.

And if any adhere
their own blood they'll save.

But if chosen not:
an eternal grave
called "second death"
will them tragically enslave.

Yet, if I do not ring the bell
my blood he'll ask back of me
for not showing true love or empathy.

So may I leave you with this thought
for you to digest
as honey in its sweet comb
if you feel you ought?

Or close your ears;
do draw your shades
to the proclamation

once to faithless Israelites made:

“I will cause distress to mankind,” says Jehovah God, “and they will certainly walk like blind men; because it is against Jehovah that they have sinned. And their blood will actually be poured out like dust, and their bowels like the dung. Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to deliver them in the day of Jehovah’s fury; but by the fire of his zeal the whole earth will be devoured, because he will make an extermination, indeed a terrible one, of all the inhabitants of the earth.”

But,
as we know,
as with an extermination that occurs,
the place of residence

remains

as the raging rodents die
upon earth's curb.

Not to be buried;
as manure:

Distained.







Thursday, August 4, 2016

Mind Your Friends

Mind Your Friends

by Seah Greenhorn
(poem with copyright)




to love
my neighbor
as myself means not
my own life to shelf as
others demands reign supreme
depleting precious tocks; exhausting
energy stocks; sliced through ones own
spiritual course necessary to individually
pursue. heed kindness's need for
dispense, yet don't stay with those
who knowingly slay gratitude,
replacing with a strife-filled
spirit to you
imbue.

Friday, July 15, 2016

"Who Is Weak, and Am I Not Weak?"

"Who Is Weak, and Am I Not Weak?"

by Seah Greenhorn 
( Poem with copyright ) 





Imagine a world
where hearts we display.

With whom would we associate?
Into whose hands
would our friendships

then lay?

Would social or economic privileges

still shine forth
as if
divine?

Or should our insides
we thus refine

before uniting races and nations?

Is not redefining ourselves
what makes a person fine?

“Who is weak, and I am not weak?”

A man eloquent we do quote
as Paul asked this of himself
to seek.

Elijah too "asked
that he might die."

“It is enough!"
Jah heard him cry.

These men are great in our esteem.

Yet, circumstances dropped their spirits
to an unseemly extreme.

If they life
put to the test
should we expect

then
any less?

We've heard too of the 'widow's might.'

Who would her course
reverse
in delight?

Would not we consider
her daily plight?

Or would we walk by
in oversight?

Think of pain

rocketing shockwaves to the brain
as a tiny toe throbs and a whole body strains
to minimize the anguish

as tears hold reign.

Would we not profess:

"This little member
under duress

affects the total."

Yes, this we must confess:

"Each part of our body
at times

deserves a coddle."

Likewise, in society,
to the down-trodden
we must give heed.

Hear their words;
to others do plead

for them
sustenance
and daily needs.

For what drops them to shaken knees,
affects us too. To thus roll forward
or further proceed

We must wheelbarrow them
then raise them up.

In this each and all can take the lead.

For,

"‘There is more happiness
in giving

than there is
in receiving.’”

Only then

Would a World
Succeed.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Caged

by Seah Greenhorn 
( Poem with copyright ) 






Born.

Caged
now in fear.

A peach plucked.

Juicy they thought
to eat
is what they saw.

What they still see.

No future desires that exist in me.
No innocent can I be;

though my wish was to just run;
to climb trees. Temporarily.
A little girl. A teenager. A young woman.

A little boy. A teenager. A young man.

Free 
to develop
distinct personalities.

Not have to concentrate on how to escape hungry or angry he or she's
thinking that I was planted solely for them to enjoy

then toss like an apple core,
roadside garbage,

to seed in an environment not designed for sweet apples to grow.

The seeds are trampled or blown away with no roots to firmly stand; to demand a place; to command a space. To take part in a normal race for betterment without the chains of a stigma:

sad or angry mental victim.

Raised with a belligerent rage seething beneath as a silent volcano. One day to erupt, but too late to be against the perpetuators of this hate.

Though, exist not a lack of perpetuators against others sown without a cloth of self-respect or dignity to wear.

Naked too;
they feel shamed.

As if all can perceive that they were used or abused as tarnished trophies

once arrogantly displayed;
played;

then laid aside
dented and damaged.
No longer worthy of any honor.

Thus, another cycle to circle
violence and hate.

The wheels of rape
go round and round.

Round and round.

Round and round.

The violence of rape
It makes no sound.

Makes no sound.

Makes no sound.

Humph!

Silence.

Given no tongue to preach:

No more violence!
I said "no!"

But, the tears do fall.
And fall.

All the while
silent screams bounce off the walls.
As the waters rise
drowning the victim from within.

No one sees the river rising
behind the eyes. Inside the mind.

Though, eventually they see the deadness
in her/his despise of the living.

Yes, eventually, the zombie is recognized by their sporadic loud laughter or drug glazed stare or Tick.

Clocking the days to nowhere.

Until....

One day,

out of the haze

A voice speaking of a future free of violence and hatred. A time when wickedness will be eliminated. A future filled with love and enjoyable work for all. An end to death and pain. No more to grow old. And a resurrection of dead loved ones.

The voice spoke from a book, though ancient, stating these were future prophecies to be fulfilled on this earth.

They promised to show me other scriptures to validate their claims.

I shut the door.
I forgot their names.

I turned to another John,
as his toy.

I am what I am now.

Why search for joy?


Listen to Caged by Seah Greenhorn (Poem with copyright) https://allpoetry.com/poem/12738509-Caged-by-Seah-Greenhorn?c=1154453211 by Seah Greenhorn #np on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/seah-greenhorn/caged-by-seah-greenhorn-poem