Erotica

They lined up single file
to uncover a temple of lust.
A hapless rough
she turned the crepe
to please them
with embraces
and the pleasure well
between her thighs.

Undressed and sweating
from gyrations,
the floor became sticky.
The atmosphere pungent,
as each one took turn
to pick her like a lute.

The world ended
when her love juice erupted

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Eternal Hope

Bewildered and devoured
by a sea of circumstances.
My mind throttled,
braced today
dread tomorrow.
Every breath of joy,
of hope, of peace,
misplaced or erased.

So I besought Him:
Glorious Redeemer,
King of Kings,
Lord of Lords,
who cares,
who builds up,
who carries me
on his wings of glory
making me victorious
over the Prince Of Despair.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Pen Force

Don't let the pen lay idle
Where innocent blood shed;
Where there are starving
Children to be fed.

Don't let the pen
Stop dripping ink
Where racism
Competes with sexism
And Babylon celebrates the dead.

Don't let the pen
Loses its grip
When humanity
Is going down
On a sinking ship.

Don't let them ban the pen
Where it cuts
Like a two-edged sword.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ode To Phebe

If I could describe you
with three words
they would be:
loving,
industrious
and bright.
I do not have to tell
you again,
you are beautiful,
by now, you know that.

Never let the world
steal your essence.
Never forget your
inestimable worth.
Keep on dreaming.
Keep on hoping.
Never compromising
your integrity,
and never let loose

[...] Read more

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Last Breath

One second left to live:
Who are you prepared to forgive?
Maybe the one that betrayed your trust;
Maybe the ones that plotted your demise.

One second left to live:
How many widows can I feed?
How many children can I cuddle?

One second left to live:
How many souls can I tell about Him?
To whom can I show mercy?

One second left to live...Jesus!

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hear I Come

Hear o nations
The Lord is with you,
Hear o Zion
The rivers are overflowing
The tides are high;
Rend your hearts;
The time is nearing.

Gather the children,
take them to the rooftops.
Let the elders pray,
The young men
Play the flutes;
Daughters collect
The candle-sticks;
Hear I come.

Wicked men shiver;
Oppressor-man quiver
On this your last day.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Master And King

My shepherd
At the foot of the hill
I call
Your strong hands
Let me see
Though I stumble
I shall not fall

I cannot look at you
Like the sun
Your eyes blaze
At your feet
I found my mouth
Before I kiss
My eyes gaze

My thirst is quenched
Your blood I drink
Your body
More than food

[...] Read more

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Grandmother (Hepseba Richards)

Ancient hands, wet with oil,
cuddled his supine body
from nine months
to six years old.

With a genteel voice, contoured
to caress a newly begun mind,
she spoke immutable words
of comfort and direction.
Yet, scolded with a voice of thunder
when he stepped out of line.

At fifty six,
he can still hear her voices.
He inherited trenches
of inexhaustible love.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Old Tune, An Old Song

The Far Right tear bandages
Off racial wounds
With talk about food stamps;
Like their ancestors,
They see no good in us,
Even though our people toiled
For two and half centuries
Without recompense.
They rip these bandages off
Knowing full well they resonate
With the klans.
Still we squared our shoulders
And hold our heads high
For it's an old tune,
An old song.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ode to Phylicia

With both hands held
tightly to the rail,
you looked over the room
like a land baron overseeing
his vineyard.
From your cradled space
you paced from one end
to the other, unaided;
your countenance plastered
with self-reliance
and determination.

This was long time before
you played Tinkerbell
or made the Honor Roll
but a father could see
your brilliance gleaming.

poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!