A Poetic Word

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A timely and apt word delivered via Poems, Prose, Verse and Spoken Words. "My heart overflows with a beautiful thought! I will recite a lovely poem to the king, for my tongue is like the pen of a skillful poet." Psalm 45:

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Latest Activity: Mar 3, 2010

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Poetry is a GIFT used to express yourself, its not for the reader its for the writer. His or her enter voice manifested into Living and Powerful words. Words strung together together in and endless visual display of feelings, what ever they may be. Your joys your pain, your triumphs and failures, your immaturity or maturity, highs/lows, whether your there or not and only the pen and the paper knows...in this case the keys and screen. It is truly your witness to the world that you were here and had something to say, whether right or wrong, truth or false, a opinion or your version of the story. More often then not, it beats to it's own drum, answers to it's own master and is lead by it's own spirit. The burning desire to speak and be heard, over all the other voices conversing simultaneously in the universe, with no end in sight. One thing the Bible says and I firmly believe is, "When everything else has passed away the Word is here to stay," whether you like or not, read it or not, understand it or not, express it or not, share it, save it or delete it or not! As I have said here before,The gift of Poetry from God saved my life, it was and will always be my therapy. I never miss my daily sessions and I swallow every bittersweet pill it dishes out So on this twisted road of life, where ever the Poetry Man goes, I will follow...searching, seeking...ultimately finding my way through the Word!

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Comment by Mommy Dearest on March 3, 2010 at 3:21pm: I caught a glimpse of the woman on the moon

So beautiful she made the sun swoon

He begged her to marry him very, very soon

The wedding took place in June

A candlelit service, under a lunar eclipsed moon

They kissed and jumped the broom

Swept stardust around the reception room

Danced to Atlantic Star's, "Always" was their wedding tune

A galaxy of guest, sent them on their, milky way, to their honey moon

Where they made love and like kaboom!

She birthed a universe of stars, from her womb

Mothered and nurtured them, until they bloomed

Grow into new galaxies, that now loom

Over spaceships, that, zoom...zoom!

Carrying astronauts, that long to flirt with, the woman on the moon

Created by God, whom

Comets serve as quills with colorful plums

Swiftly scripting, the name of the, Goddess of the moon

Whom, He loves

Cynthia (Greek title of the Moon Goddess)

Comment by Mommy Dearest on January 16, 2010 at 4:43pm: Hand over Foot
Hand over Foot

I have a thing for Hands and Feet
Whether washed before we eat or sleep
Whats on top of and underneath
When I look at them they speak
Tell stories of labor and love
The tenderness or the toughness of
How it is now and once was
So strong, yet oh so weak
Extremities, with or without, a number of phalanges
Gnarled or sleek, by the grace of God, they have held up beneath
Enormous pressure, they offer an endless measure
Regardless of work or pleasure
They stamp or pour out, everything without. reward
For many of their selfless chores
The Glory they know, is not theirs, but Yours
For not by might, nor by power but by the spirit
Do they, push it, shove it, kick it, move it, build it,
touch it, grip it, stroke it, caress it, rock it, hold it,
mold it, pad it on the back, scold or console it
balancing it all, between two hands and feet
The doers of all that we think
Pointing out the direction, earthy or heavenly destined
To get us there, what an honorable pair
His pierced, so ours would be sheared
Often neglected of tender loving care
Made Holy when raised or leaping in the air
Washed in the blood, in life or death
Hands and feet, deserve, to some day receive Eternal rest
Or simply for us to remember just how blessed
We are the have them

Lord, I hold your hand and foot,
(W. African colloquialism for, I beg you)
Mommy Dearest

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Comment by Mommy Dearest on December 6, 2009 at 1:12pm: Blue Monday

Once upon a time or two ago, I had to know
Momma, please tell me why, I'm so full of woe?
All the while she smiled!
Then called me her Blue Mondays Child
Girl someday, you'll show the world, how
To be meek and mild, if you humble yourself for just awhile
Then before you know it, honey child
The Lord will lift you up!
Fill your once empty cup, with abundant joy!
Peace and Happiness will be yours
And woe to, Blue Mondays, for they will be no more

Woe was Me,
Mommy Dearest

Comment by Mommy Dearest on November 1, 2009 at 12:09pm: Eye See You

I see a face on a computer screen...snap shoots or dreams
Sad memories, flashed back like old movie scenes
Void of personal experience...yet well acquainted, by all means
An unfamiliar voice in my head...or random comments read
Bitter words, so longed to be said...to me or the one that I wed
But silence has been the thread
That passes through the poetic eye, appropriately placed, in my head
Images that may needle me, until I be dead
Covered by my Comforter, stitched in red...the Blood Christ shed
To free, feelings to long spent, in hiding...only heart and soul confiding, in themselves
Thank God the Spirit dwells...regenerates what was once a tortured souls living hell
Yes, time will tell...The Holiest of Holy, who bases forgiveness solely, on actions
That speak louder than words...completely purge...the unforgiveness that no longer surges
Now that I see you through God's Eye

Eye See You,
Mommy Dearest

Comment by Mommy Dearest on October 25, 2009 at 2:33pm: Erased by Grace

I don’t care…where it came from
And how it got its start
Lord…just take it away
Purge it from my heart
Erase it from my memory
Let it take its place in history
Along with the nameless dead
Buried in graves
with no tombstone at their head
vaguely remembered
like the cold of December
that turns to a warming spring
Oh God please bring
The cleansing rain
Wash away the pain
Till no trace of it remains
No blame
Just a spotless name
Peace of mind unstained
Innocents reclaimed
Transformed…reborn
Given a fresh start…with a New Heart

Comment by Mommy Dearest on October 20, 2009 at 8:44pm: This is for all the Momma's girls...let me encourage you, not to cast your pearls...upon swine
For you are worthy, whether your walking the red carpet or standing in the welfare line
Just biding God's good old time...preserving through the grind...because you self-wind
Tic-Toc...as the Granddaddy of liars mocks...gocks
at your hands on a pole, legs cocked...while you watch the clock
For a woman's work, can never stop...her from raising to the top
Lord, who would have ever thought?
Pennsylvania Ave, would have a Sister holding down, the big White House at the end of the block
Yeah...little Black Girls Rock...marry little Black Boys, that get elected President, named Barak
When they grow up and take stock...of themselves
Damn the devil and respect their nails...become palm readers, crucified to their selves
Bought and paid for...by a priceless Man-who-cured...the sick and raised the dead
Worth tying red ribbons around, every last little girls head...alive or dead
Playing on the White House lawn...or dodging bullets in their designated Babylon
Lord, a new day must dawn...or innocents will be gone...for ever...ever, ever, ever!
And that's a long time...for Momma's girls to be crying...the blues...beaten up and abused
by the system...when they dead and gone, we gonna miss them...so let no man dis them
Take the time to teach them...that charm is deceitful and beauty is vain
But a woman that fears the Lord is to be praised
So let us tie red ribbons around her braids...no matter the age
Stand up and collectively wave, them in the air...show God that we care
for every last one of Momma's Girls!

Mommy Dearest

Comment by Mommy Dearest on October 18, 2009 at 3:45pm: Intimate Scrolls

You may search for the truth, in between poetic lines
On top of and lurking mysteriously behind
But only God can convict the hearts and minds
of the reader...seeker...believer
to realize the truth of the word
That out lives, any parable or proverb
Stories told...testimonies that intimately scroll
On and on and on...

Comment by Mommy Dearest on October 11, 2009 at 10:38am: My Bigger

Nigger this and nigger that!
Every other word, pulled out of the rap cats hat
Cocked to side that has no pride in its self
Proud to called a backwards, unintelligent, indigent
A hustle term that every black person should resent
Hated and degraded because of the color of our skin
Proving to the slave masters that we agree with them
Made political correct , curse words often resurrect
In the hearts and minds of men
fooled into thinking the word empowers them
When in reality it tightens the slave masters cuffs
Because our mental emancipation never released us
What's a nigger to you?
Just another gig-a-boo or
Or a term of endearment for a member of your crew
White boys wanta be called wiggers
And that's still elevated above a nigger
Get a clue to how many have died so that you and me too
Could be BIGGER then a nigger
Just because MC's make it sound hype, doesn't make it right
This ghetto terminology, describes a monkey's genealogy
That Hitler made no apology for
When Jessy Owens, blow the doors, open
For other BIGGERS that refused to be called niggers!
So if that so call nigger, you call Jigger
Can dictate, the fashion trends of urban men
why not then, what Black men label their friends
Not my nigger but my BIGGER
No doubt when the word gets out
Every Black brother will shout,
"What's up my BIGGER"
And dare anybody to call him a Nigger!

--Mommy Dearest

Comment by Mommy Dearest on September 5, 2009 at 10:11am: He Will Raise

The devil is a LIAR...consumed by the desire
to raise higher...then our God
So he works extra hard...to tear the Beloved apart
"Skin for skin"...there's a Job that lays within...Godly women and men
Able, to like Christ ascend...to the Father
In difficult times, stand fast and pray, even harder!
And rebuke those who say, "way bother"
Because the Lord, rewards those who, humble themselves and gravel
at His feet...a double portion of prosperity, they will eat
After he lifts them to their feet...for in fear of God,sickness will treat
Thou the experience was, bittersweet
In the end the devil got beat...down by prayer and belief
That God will give relief...glorify and defeat...the enemy

He will raise about it,
Mommy Dearest