Poet's Fair Warning...

Challenge from Poetic's Aside, day 11: For today’s prompt, write a warning poem. Warnings can be found everywhere: on the labels of medicine, in the speeches of leaders, and in the advice of parents.

 Even stories and poems have been known to harbor warnings.

Don’t look at me like that

Don’t breathe or speak a word

But don’t say nothing much; you’ll touch

A sentimental chord

Don’t fling wide blue-white sky

Or fill it up with dark

That moonstone to the poet’s eye

Like kindling to a spark

Don’t be so young or old

Or half-way in between

Don’t be so purple, pink and gold

Sea-song aquamarine

…or love or hate or sing

Or sleep, eat, fly or fall

Don’t brood like woods waiting for spring

Or chill winds, autumnal

Don’t smile or shed a tear

Or tell of home, sweet home

Unless you are prepared, my dear

To see it in a poem

© Janet Martin

...last night's 'supper-poem'!

A Sure Thing

They say in life there are only two sure things; death and taxes.

Well, it's tax season!

The time of year we must account for earnings and losses...

of dollars that is!

The other Account comes after the Other Sure Thing...

 So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.

Rom.14:12

Ah, here is moral ground on which to establish Truth,,,

The why of 'never tell a lie' or 'handing out cups of cold water'!

It hurts and heals, it lends and steals

It tears and mends and molds

The best of life and worst of life

Into elusive folds

It breaks the bread of living

Into crumbs soft-swept away

And keeps us always on the verge

Of Almost Yesterday

It foists on boist’rous gait, the weight

Of an Unseen Offing

The After-death, Doubters debate

The dying; A Sure Thing

A beast that feasts on moments, oh,

We pet and stroke its fur

A love-hate, touch-taste, hold-let-go

That leads to for-ev-er

A poet with a pen called Breath

Authors life's requiem (rek-wee-uh m)

Where what we do with what we have

Will be its total sum

© Janet Martin

Until this morning I thought the word requiem rhymes with the word dream or hymn

but I decided to double-check, just in case!

Did you know it's a three-syllable word ending with the um sound?!

OH!!! what new rhyming possibilities have just been born in this poem-lorn brain😄

Real Deal NOT A Fair Deal, But A Very Big Deal...and a Done Deal!

For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

1. Write a deal poem.
2. Write a no deal poem.

God said,

So, here’s the deal

Man’s doomed to hell

Their best works

Infested by pride

A hopeless lot

Me, oft forgot

Unless their

Comfort is denied

The curse they bear

Since Eden where

Evil dared Eve to take a bite

Then Adam too, brought, through these two a need man's sacrifice can't right

We need a Lamb, A perfect Lamb without blemish or spot, to heal

Jesus said, ‘Father, here I AM’... God said, my Beloved, so, here’s the deal...

Son, I'll send You

Faultless and true

To be the scapegoat

for My Bride

Humility

And love will be

Tortured, hated,

then crucified

So that The Lost

(though vile the cost)

May find hope through

their sins forgiven

The cross becomes

A footbridge from

the gates of hell

to the gates of Heaven

That's the deal,

Mt precious Son

Jesus replied,

"Thy will be done"

© Janet Martin

No Fickle Trickster, God

PAD Challenge 10; Here is our next prmpt from Robert Lee Brewer at Poetics Aside!
Wow! We’re already one-third of the way through this challenge, and I’ve been impressed (as usual) by the creative approaches to each prompt. It never fails to amaze and delight me to see a prompt take life once in the hands of poets.

For today’s Two-for-Tuesday prompt:

1. Write a deal poem.
2. Write a no deal poem.

Imagine being at the mercy

Of a God we could not trust

Known for shady business dealings

Stealing, trickery and such

What if seeds were stripped of bearing?

Or the bud bereft of bloom

Or the sun slipped from its mooring

And ricocheted off the moon

What if night might stay forever

Morning, an uncertain thing

What if just for fun He ordered

Winter again, after spring

Imagine being at the mercy

Of a God that we could prove

No bigger-than-mortal-answers

No unfathomable love

What if grace was just a fable

And faith didn’t need our prayers

Everything spread on a table

Like a merchant selling wares

What if, with vile angst and trembling

We, without His Word assured

Approached death with nothing more than

Maybe soul will be secured

Imagine being at the mercy

Of a fickle, two-faced God

Who, instead of dealing kindly

Gave us just what we deserved

…where the air would scar our faces

With the curses we have spewed

As He deals with the excuses

Explaining ingratitude

© Janet Martin

 He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
            Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities.

Ps.103: 10

 Whether you've read it 100 times or never...

Please, read the whole glorious chapter here!

Psalm 103 

Trying To Touch The Moon

Sometimes when silence silvers the sliver of moon at dusk

And daylight ebbs from rivers like a silk and satin husk

When blue-brusque tusk of north wind tugs at twilight’s edge and wins

And slips a cloak of velvet black across empyrean skins

When worlds slip from my windows save a wisp of crescent moon

And everything is quiet save the echo of high noon

I feel the reel of teal, maroon and amethyst enmesh

Like steel of whispers tattooed in the fabric of my flesh

And Thought is like a hunter thriving when the light is lean

Yet thought is like The Hunted plying senses quick and keen

And Night is like a body without bearing, breath or form

Yet wraps earth in its shadow taking heaven’s stars by storm

The tumult of tomorrow waits to seal its breadth to naught

Where now I spy with guessing games the outcome of mere thought

...a dot beneath the crescent moon, this spot where I am bound

Trying to touch the tip of it with both feet on the ground

© Janet Martin