Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Children Worship Pt. 3


Lips rejoice,
throats scream
tonsils Shiver
tongues slap and flicker.

Words are emotions,
sounds are spiritual vibrations
of the vocal chords
that have no care
for letters or language.

It moves to the rhythms of the heart.
Not a monotonous bump
but a musical fingerprint of the soul
giving the spirt an identity
that can never be visualized.
As it beats the congo on eardrums
and lives in the bloodstream.

The Children Worship Pt. 2


Who knows what leaks
from the eyes of children.
The salty pain that drips
and boils on the trembles of their lips.
Wishing that the doors to their past
could be closed like eyelids.
Unable to flash memories like repetitive blinks.
Each blink making the eyes heavy,
causing it to overflow,
becoming empty and purified.

The Children Worship Pt. 1

I Wrote a 3 Part Poem inspired by the children at Moorlands Camp which I counsel. Here is Part 1:

Raised Hands

The children lift their arms to heaven
elbows speak
sweaty palms and
fingertips weep
as they release their unwanted past
like steam exiting their skin.
Creative Commons License
Simon Phillip Brown's Poetry by Simon Phillip Brown is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.