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Author Topic: User Poems  (Read 152940 times)

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Offline Filipino Carlist

Re: User Poems
« Reply #125 on: April 14, 2022, 10:44:12 PM »

The Wood of the Cross: A Good Friday Poem



Behold the wood,


The Wood of the Cross,


Betwixt heaven and Earth,


The lamb for man's salvation.



Rejoice oh mankind,


For the gates of heaven once closed,


Now open to all who are worthy


Yet mourn oh cruel man,


And behold the wood of the Cross.



There lies your Christ,


In agony throughout,


His back torn to shreds,


And his head pierced


With a crown of thorns.



His sacred heart beats on,


as a drum for a regiment,


Onwards to reconquer,


And repair the sin of Adam.



For 3 hours long,


He hung in agony untold,


Till he uttered "consummatum est"


And all of creation grieved.



Glory to you, O divine Messiah!


Glory to you, O King of Kings!


For thou hast redeemed the world,


Upon the wood of thy Holy Cross.








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Offline Polymath

Re: User Poems
« Reply #126 on: July 29, 2022, 02:03:10 PM »
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Offline Polymath

Re: User Poems
« Reply #127 on: August 01, 2022, 10:20:12 AM »
Someone mentioned that I should put my actual poems here in addition to the links, so here they are.  Please show these (especially the first, as people have told me it can make a real difference) to as many people as possible and encourage them to do the same.

Elegy For The Child Never Conceived
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, July 26, 2022)

His would-be parents had but days;
The procreative ship sat docked,
And with the passengers’ delays,
That ship is gone, forever locked,
But if, instead, he’d been conceived
And been allowed to live and die,
His soul could one day be received
In the embrace of God Most High.

And hence it grieves my heart to see
A child-shaped space unoccupied,
Not running in the grass with glee,
Nor leaning on his mother’s side,
And no one in his space in bed
To kiss goodnight while tucking in;
No smiling face, no heart well-fed,
No warm caress from hands to skin.

When weighed against one human soul,
No sacrifice too great to give
Could ever be for such a goal
That one’s own child may simply live.

God’s Way And My Way
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, June 13, 2022)

I thought I could cheat the system
And fight all the rules and resist ‘em,
But God has His way
At the end of the day;
Now I’ve too many problems to list ‘em!

A Modernization of “To His Coy Mistress”
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, June 17, 2022)

You say we should some years delay
The coming of our wedding day,
But God commanded us to try
To fruitful be and multiply.
To make new life, we cannot shirk;
The night shall come, when none can work.
Just as she cannot grow more legs,
A baby girl has all her eggs;
In adolescence they will start
To walk onstage and then depart,
And monthly one by one they pass
Like sand grains in an hourglass,
And once the time onstage is missed,
One soul for Heaven won’t exist.
That we may strive to give them life,
Come with me now and be my wife.

What Is “Pro-Choice?”
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, June 13, 2022)

If my child were sent to die,
Be chopped to pieces like a pig,
To spare him death, I’d plead and beg,
His life with mine to buy.

Yet pregnant moms demand their “rights”
To chop their children in their wombs
In hit-men’s bright and sterile rooms,
As if they’re parasites.

To liberals, if a pregnant woman
Wants the baby, it’s her child.
If not, it’s vermin, it’s reviled;
It somehow isn’t human.

To you who call yourselves “pro-choice:”
Your unborn victims have no voice.

Shoulders of Giants
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, June 17, 2022)
I’m standing up high on the shoulders of giants
Where I can see farther than many a man
I reach down my hand to lift up some new clients
They tell me they’re happy down where they began

I swing to new giants and climb on their shoulders
Ever ascending through year after year
Searching the heights for some fellow beholders
To find me a wife and to raise children here

We’ll teach them to follow us higher and higher
And see things so few eyes have gazed on before
And strive all our days to pursue that desire
Till we all disembark on the heavenly shore!

TV Bubble
(First published at the Society of Classical Poets, June 17, 2022)

I passed three houses in a row,
The men like snakes charmed by the game.
The windows I jogged past would show
The footage on each screen the same.
One picture hung in many a mind,
And here I’ve just one trouble:
Since I don’t watch, I’ve been maligned
As “living in a bubble!”


More will follow once they’re published.  I’m not comfortable posting them publicly until then.
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Offline Polymath

Re: User Poems
« Reply #128 on: September 15, 2022, 01:16:00 PM »
I got more published!

https://classicalpoets.org/2022/08/27/a-villanelle-for-robert-hoogland-by-joshua-c-frank/


(Hoogland was imprisoned for calling his daughter female)

A Villanelle for Robert Hoogland

Their mouths are gagged, their hands are bound;
Their children taken by the state,
These parents have no legal ground.

While children run and play around
The lip of Hell’s wide, yawning gate,
Their mouths are gagged, their hands are bound.

If they should ever make a sound,
They’ll age in jail for crimes of hate;
These parents have no legal ground.

Their efforts will be quickly drowned
As red tape seals their children’s fate.
Their mouths are gagged, their hands are bound.

Their children seized, locked in the pound,
Can’t help them now, for it’s too late,
These parents have no legal ground.

Must we raise our kids unsound
And watch them eat the devil’s bait?
Our mouths are gagged, our hands are bound;
We parents have no legal ground.
.
The Great Satan

We’ve taught the China folk to snack
To sell them our potato chips;
We stabbed their culture in the back
With words of treasures on our lips.
Thus now we teach the world to sin
To sell them poisons for their faith:
More time with trinkets, less with kin,
And no regrets till it’s too late.

Colonialism is okay
As long as churches are suppressed.
Exporting devils every day,
That’s the mission of the West.
The West once shone atop a hill,
But now it’s Satan’s global shill.
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Offline Polymath

Re: User Poems
« Reply #129 on: October 07, 2022, 09:55:52 AM »
https://classicalpoets.org/2022/10/05/the-tech-addicts-lament-and-other-poetry-by-joshua-c-frank/


The Tech Addict’s Lament

As I take one more hit of electronic cocaine,
I snort a fresh shot of noise into my brain
And feel the cacophony’s endless refrain
Charging at me like a runaway train.

I collapse on the floor, and I think, “What a drain!
I’d love to walk out, and I’d love to abstain,
But the slowness of real-space seems flat and mundane.”
So, I’m tied to the tech with a thick iron chain.
.

Ballad of the Video-Game Hero

I rode in a mine cart, back home from the land
__Of my favorite video game,
Through the pixelized prairie and vast seas of sand,
__Over rivers of lava and flame.

The hero sat there in the rickety cart
__Staring off into pixel-sky space,
Much older than on the game cartridge’s art,
__With tears on his wide, wrinkled face.

“I’m leaving and never returning,” he said.
__“Come listen and hear my sad story.
The princess and I, we hoped someday to wed,
__Way back in the days of my glory.

“The dragon would kidnap the princess, then I
__Would run through an obstacle course
To his minions’ dark castles in mountains up high
__And take back their strongholds by force.

“My princess was in the last castle I’d raid;
__I always found treasures to haul.
The Kingdom would welcome me with a parade
__And a sumptuous banquet for all.

“But after some years, the dragon found ways
__To undermine me and my quest.
He gave up the tactic of ‘pillage and raze’—
__Bribed the people with treasure-filled chests!

“My princess then fell for the dragon’s top minion;
__The Kingdom surrendered the war
And exiled me out of the dragon’s dominion—
__They don’t want to be saved anymore!”

We came to my world, and we sealed up the gate
__To the land of his video game.
My world is secured from his land’s tragic fate,
__But I’m worried for us just the same.

For evil has bribed all the people here, too,
__With shiny new gadgets galore.
No more do they care for what’s good and what’s true—
__They don’t want to be saved anymore!
.

One-Man Duet

There’s a musician on the ’Net
With himself in a duet.
On the screen, the doubled fellow
Plays both violin and cello.
To viewers, it would thus appear
That he’s two players, like we hear.

First he played the violin,
Recorded it with his machine,
Then played his cello, harmonized
With silent notes, all mechanized—
No soul, no mind behind what brings
A faithful echo of his strings.

While playing both the parts alone,
Recording selfies on his phone,
He knows bowed instruments are made
With other people to be played.
What kind of world must he abide,
Where no one’s playing at his side?
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