Epiphany

Annabel Lee by David Garcia Forés

Artwork by David Garcia Forés

Epiphany

Look at me with your heart, not with your eyes,
For your sweet heart sees only what is true,
Sees past the mask, sees under the disguise,
And I, for one, would never lie to you,
And listen to me with your naked soul,
Feel my words inside you burning bright,
Telling of my Love, selfless and whole,
Love unconditional by Day and Night,
Belovéd, will a smile play ‘cross your face,
When deep within you feel my Love for you?
Will your heart a-flutter, your pulse race,
When in your soul you come to see I’m true?
I long ago had this epiphany,
My heart belongs to you eternally.

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image painted by David Garcia Forés (and used without permission)

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Burning my cathedrals

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I am burning my ancient cathedrals,
Exorcising the houses of false gods,
Razing the shrines, altars and feasting halls
In which I have prostrated myself, wet clods
Of my own shit on my knees like rank sods,

No more shall I worship the gods of greed,
Urging me to amass things I don’t need,
Gone the deity of traitorous doubt,
Who planted in my soul self-loathing’s seed,
False prophets, with a smile, I cast thee out.

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)

If I should never ..

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If I should never see thy face again,
Nor hear thy voice’s gentle melody,
And if I never know again the pain
Of, with a kiss, bidding adieu to thee,
If I should never sit across from thee
And listen to the beauty of thy mind,
Gazing into eyes that look at me,
And show me depths to which others are blind,
If I should never hold again thy hand,
Nor kiss and taste the sweetness of thy lips,
Nor barefoot, on a beach of golden sand,
Walk with thee, my hand upon thy hips,
Promise thee will hold me in thy heart,
And happy be, till light fades into dark.

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)

Cinquain #2

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Banks, governments, our employers
Have us all trapped, it seems to me,
Locked up like death row prisoners
In cellblocks we can’t even see,
Where the bars are made of money,

Shackled by the dead weight of debt,
While credit card card companies and
The huge multinationals set
The bar on our living standard,
Well, thanks for that guys, ain’t life grand?

Advertising tells us how we
Should live, look, eat, drink, sleep and die,
No wonder I don’t watch TV,
“I have choice and free will!!!” You cry,
Go find your freedom, go on, try ..

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)

Every hour .. A Triolet inspired by Neil Gaiman

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Every hour wounds. The last one kills.
The death of a million cuts.
Each moment, a drop of life spills,
Every hour wounds. The last one kills
You stone dead. There’ll be no more thrills,
Love, happiness, no ifs or buts,
Every hour wounds. The last one kills.
The death of a million cuts.

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)

Gaza

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God versus Prophet,
Man versus his fellow Man,
Weapon makers grin.

 

Martin G. King © 2014

Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)

A prayer to The Night

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Oh dark night
Gather me,
Enfold me,
Wrap me in
Black velvet,

Take away
The cruel world,
Hide me from
Its evil
And its pain,

Keep me safe
Protect me
Till the Sun
Rises high
In the morn.

~O~

Martin G. King © 2014
Image sourced on Google Images (all rights remain with the creator)