Johns Poems

Guest Page

Welcome To The guest Page

At the beginning of each new month, I will add a story, a chosen piece of writing of my own or an interesting submission by my Guests. All subject matter is considered as long as it is not pornographic. If submitting work previously posted or published, you must include the source and credits due the original Author. If it is an original, you must specify your name, city of residence, date, and the words " Original work by (yourname)" You will remain sole owner of your submission and , if posted here, will be given full credit for your work.

Feel free to submit your work of poetry or other genre by clicking on the link to my email!

You will receive an email notification should your material be selected for posting here. Sorry, no work will be returned.

Heaven Can Wait

I am really confused! Heaven is the reason why! You see, since 9-11 I have learned many things about Muslims that I never knew before. In fact, I never even knew there were so many Muslims or had not an inkling of their belief system, the name of their God or the distain they had for Christians. So now here it is years later, the United States has been warring in Afghanistan, Iraq and soon, it seems, Iran, the latter two nearly 100% Muslim faithful. This is where the confusion starts. You see, every day I hear or read about some extremist Muslim blowing himself up, along with hundreds of innocent others in the name of Allah, or in the name of their religion. The belief is that they are not only given permission to do that by the God they worship but that they will actually be heroes once they get to heaven. I don’t know about you, but if my God gave me permission to blow innocent people up, I would be shopping around for a more merciful God. The whole concept of God being love somehow loses it validity with that kind of scenario.

To make things more confusing are the Christians that go to the middle East to fight the extremist Muslims and are told by family and commanders and religious leaders to lay down their life for God and Country and if by some unfortunate circumstance they get killed, don’t worry because they will go to heaven for being a good Christian soldier. So, does God put the Muslims and Christians in the same rooms? Does He worry that they will hate each other in heaven just as they did on earth? Now do you understand my confusion? If these groups cannot even get along here on earth, what in the world makes one think that they can get along in heaven? God is indeed love and justice and wisdom and power and something tells me that He is going to have to use all his qualities to keep the peace. My God would never allow either group into His chambers. Of course, if you believe that neither group is going to heaven, you are probably closer to the truth than the 1.70 billion Muslims and the 2.15 billion Christians worldwide today. Besides, who really wants to go to heaven anyway with all those killers running loose?

Guest Poet, Marie Calhoun

Long Lost Dream

I remember the warm rippling tide upon my toes
the soft delicate breeze upon my body, so light,
the sun shinning down upon my skin,
I remember that special day and that evening's delight.

It was you that took my breath away
it was you that filled that special time,
mystic visions upon my days and nights,
drifting upon a magical love cloud sublime.

I remember those days long past, eons ago,
And to remember is so very lovely and serene
when time and space had no chance to invade,
the wonderful days and nights of a long lost dream.

©Marie Calhoun
Marie Calhoun's Website

http://www.freewebs.com/mariehummer/

Guest Poet , Stephen Long

This is The Mystic from Mystic Realms.

The Mystic

It had been a long journey
many days and nights.
I was close to the end
expected to be home by daylight.

The dark dark road
had seemed malefic.
It was then I met
a shadowy figure, a mystic.

He said he had a message
that he was given to deliver.
I was feeling presage
and ask him of the sender.

He sat down on a rock
and begin to make a fire.
Slowly he started to talk
about whom I enquire.

A name I can not give you
and that matters not.
Something you can't see
follows and will not stop.

Your fate as of now
destiny has changed.
And you can not disavow,
for it is arranged.

To oppose your fate is unwise.
He was an artificer,
his steel grey eyes
fixed upon the fire.

The glow of which
lit up his face ghostly.
Was he bewitched.
Was he?

As I reached for my Gladstone
I could not help wonder.
When I turned back he was gone.
My mind was torn asunder.

Had he finished and if so
where is the mystic
where did he go?
The Mystic.

My song of wine

My song of wine
and yesterday.
The lady who sang so well.

She was mine
but for a short time.
She heard wedding bells.

My song of wine
in the glass I see.
A little better deal.

My song of wine
comes to an end
with an empty bottle.

For information about Mystic Realms, visit Stephen at:

http://www.freewebs.com/sclmystictimes/

Words

I awake each morning coughing and
spitting words that I heard
in the nightmare that I reside in.
Holes in my vocabulary filled with
blasphemy and ignorance. My
throat lined with vile speech
that flows as easily as do I when
on the waterslide at the
amusement park.

Stupid words.
Describing nothing.
Worn out syllables.
Same old sentences,
chopped and marinated,
disfigured by ugly connotations.
Slinging disrespect like mud,
unheard by those who
really know me,
immune to the onslaught.

I bathe my body.
Perfume myself.
Dress in fine linen wear.
My teeth sparkle,
my scrubbed face smiles
and the world reflects me
in its wonder and
delight-

I see the truth then
and must tell the world.
I cannot suppress the
words on my tongue and I
lash out at once in anger,
with vile, hateful words.

I think to myself,
is it my words I so
easily disperse?
Are they of my choosing
or are they from you,
the one who taught me each one?

The Mysterious One

(Name with-held by request.)

A Pink Rose

You blossomed like a fresh rose

Your fragrance enveloped my soul

My nose lead, forgetting the thorns,

Wilted petals fall, now holding a stem.

Now in the mist of yesterday,

Transformed into illusions for tomorrow.

I held you close to absorb your fragrance