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Antagonism vs epigonism

It's more interesting to watch two strong spirits in antagonism that a multitude of them in epigonism.

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The Misty Hidden Of Mine/Moje Magleno Skriveno

In the daybreak song
Will take the forests into an embrace

My never hoped for
Heartbeat cut off the heart
Will spill the walls into a midnight sound

Mine within the chains treasure in my hands
Will toll cursed from the towers
Sadly the song of awakening
Into the deafness

Mine into nothing flooded water
A current beginning into an endless
Will cut the seams and sew
A new array for the soul's nakedness

Mine on my palm colourful lonely butterfly
Moving the wings like eaves in the tempest
Maddened by the possibility of flight

My never enough overcome dawn
In an empty bad
Where I am enfolded up to the point of no recognition

Mine sharpened pencils
Regularly waiting for the words
Will be broken halved in them

Mine from fatigue cracked mirror
That each morning I feed with a smile
Twinkling yearning for the truth

Mine long time ago lost waiting
On the benches below the trees
Despair chained
Prever quoted ages of circles
On my skins
Digging the death memory

Mine after forty days black nails uncut
digging the memory of death

Mine encircled in the dewdrops of crying eyelashes
Which silently I close
With the soul limited sight

Mine sealed lips
Quivering of love
To you I will surrender God

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A bit of being cut off from a memory/Moj

Echoes closely down the hall like nothing
Thoughts ajar in a big silence
Like a door I must not go through
Unfulfilled thoughts
Left to beat in somebody else’s wells

The moments dragged into nowhere
Through a glass pane pacified in memory
A shivering hope will unveil the veil
Open the eyes
My shadow across the sky
Who knows how many times
Will beg for everything
That doesn’t want to give in
Like a wave drowned in the sea of waiting
Tearful song it will cry
In the foam out of the foam
My newly born dawn

Moj
Od sjeć anja otkinut trač ak trajanja
Što hodnicima blizu odzvanja ko ništa
U velikom ć utanju misli otškrinute
Ko vrata kroz koja ne smijem da prođ em
Ostać e nedomišljene da nekom drugom
Bunarima kucaju

Trenuci odvuč eni u nepovrat
Kroz okna od stakla umirena sjeć anjem
Nada što se batrga
Skinuć e velove otvoriti oč i
Moja sjena preko neba
Po ko zna koji put
Iskać e što se neć e dati
Morem išč ekivanja udavljeni talas
Proplakać e pjesmu
U pjeni iz pjene rođ ena
Moja nova zora

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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My/Moj

A bit of being cut off from a memory
Echoes closely down the hall like nothing
Thoughts ajar in a big silence
Like a door I must not go through
Unfulfilled thoughts
Left to beat in somebody else’s wells

The moments dragged into nowhere
Through a glass pane pacified in memory
A shivering hope will unveil the veil
Open the eyes
My shadow across the sky
Who knows how many times
Will beg for everything
That doesn’t want to give in
Like a wave drowned in the sea of waiting
Tearful song it will cry
In the foam out of the foam
My newly born dawn

Moj
Od sjeć anja otkinut trač ak trajanja
Što hodnicima blizu odzvanja ko ništa
U velikom ć utanju misli otškrinute
Ko vrata kroz koja ne smijem da prođ em
Ostać e nedomišljene da nekom drugom
Bunarima kucaju

Trenuci odvuč eni u nepovrat
Kroz okna od stakla umirena sjeć anjem
Nada što se batrga
Skinuć e velove otvoriti oč i
Moja sjena preko neba
Po ko zna koji put
Iskać e što se neć e dati
Morem išč ekivanja udavljeni talas
Proplakać e pjesmu
U pjeni iz pjene rođ ena
Moja nova zora

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Painfully naked/Bolno razgolicena

Painfully naked
The wings of a dove
It took silence to understand as
Wordless it stood
Deeply meditating
Care caressing the air
Peace seeking paloma
Drawn in careful shades
Black grey white
Still sustaining
The whole flight
Frozen caught in a move

Bolno razgolić ena
Krila golubice
Trebalo je tišine da bi se shvatila
Jer
Bez riječ i je stajala
Duboko zamišljena
Brigom milujuć i vazdug
Paloma što traži mir
Iscrtana pažljivim sjenama
Crno sivo bijelo
Mirna hraneć i
Cjelokupan let
Smrznuta uhvać ena u pokretu

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Barbara girl you are a beast/Varvara djevojko ti si zvijer

Down from your fangs words drip on the claws
You’ve said sparkling edges
The jaws of the night have heard

You’ve said
Tearing apart
Melting down
Diving flights
Parting
Halving
Brokenness
Each word you will bring back to the cut off breath
Each word you will bring back to the halved dawn
Chronically undernourished

Varvara djevojko ti si zvijer
Riječ i ti sa zuba kaplju na kandže
Rekla si oštrice bjelasave
Što ih je č ula razjapljena noć

Rekla si
kidanja
otapanja
obrušavanja
rasta vljenost
raspoluć enost
slomljenost

Svaku ć eš vratiti na presječ en dah
Svaku ć eš vratiti na prerezano svitanje
Hronicno neuhranjenu

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Geometry of peace/Geometrija spokoja

Lost in the depths of our silence
There’s a single moment of peace
For which it is a gift to live

It’s turned into point at which
Beauty spelled universe laughs
It’s turned into a point at which
The spirit settles down
The one that governs the waters
Governs the soil and heavens
It’s turned into a monada
At one with the light
Uniquely addressed by love
A particle of life

It craves the lines of space
With which the universe draws
The features hinted at
And an inexpressibility unspotted by an eye
Framework canons harmony depicted
The freedom of mercy and want are faced

It craves the body chiseled in wisdom
Of an eye in love with its sight
The lips in love with their words
An ear in love with its song
The hand awestruck by touch
The feet awestruck by paths

It craves the body chiseled in the rhythm
The lungs breathing heartbeat
The blood streaming ebbs in each drop
And the cords of a universal voicing
Of the first ‘Here I am’ tenderly
Endlessly addressed with ‘Thou,
A perfectly painted icon of life eternal
Return into Me, into the Word.’

Geometrija spokoja

Izgubljen u našim dubinama ć utnje
Raduje se tren tihog spokoja
Za koji je blagodatno živjeti

On postaje tač ka u kojoj smije se
Ljepotom ozarena vasiona
On postaje tač ka u kojoj smiruje se
Duh što nad vodama kopnom nebesima vlada

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sideroad/Krajputasica

Darkness winged in forebodings paths
A lock of hair medallion hidden
Like the mole of the beginning
You were born for
You were lived away endlessly
In hidden pain you drummed
A star paved Sideroad made by raindrops
With raindrops into streams flown away away
Swelling in the duration strength
A little necklace of death
Around your neck
The circles of time you spinned
A lock of hair medallion hidden
Like the mole of the beginning
You were born for
In dusty steps you crafted noise
A rusty gates steal made
Opened despite the fear
The eyes always staring behind
Behind and behind
Unnoticed by endless mirrors
Misty clouds you lifted
Within a never ripe enough eyes
For the revelation
Tied within the revealed
In an invisible veil chain
What you’ve been lived away for
Endlessly
Self facing
In hidden pain you drummed
A lightful road made in darkness
Labyrinth of paths for whom the reward
For what, which efforts
Spasmodically embracing you held
Spasmodically embraced and nailed
The hope drunk from its own yearning
A star made Sideroad
In raindrops held
The rain filled with the mind
Long time forgotten by the window pane
Glass smashed
The strength of entrance under the eaves
The trace of a swelling pourdown
A roaring downflight waterfall
In raindrops into streams flown away away
Pour down pour down pour down
Fill in the emptiness of the heart
The hands unembraced hanged around
Darkness winged forebodings paths
A necklace of death around your neck

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Pythia the Stunt/Pitija kaskaderka

she liked paranormal activities
and saw symbolic connections between
apparently unconnected things
thus a pebble accidentally kicked
by her middle class boots
got endless measures in cosmic dimensions
of issues de-accidentalized

she liked mysteries
she heard the deaths whispered
into her ears only
of close relatives and distant people

she saw
colours dropped into her dreams only
of sleepy impressionists
and silent expressionists
post mortem hanging in reproductions
oh one of so many one of so many
in her pastoral home

she suffered from modesty pretend
and swam her butterfly style
in the swimming pool of her ego
perfectly aware of the fact
that not even those who serve God
far more diligently that she did
were not addressed by an angel voice
(but how could she have been guilty of that)

as the voice called her and only her
and only those similar to her
ready to applaud the great gift
only if their own was recognized
thinking she was a genius if she understood a genius

still I think she knew a lot
she knew so to say everything
especially since the day when
due to the pebble-deep voice-great gift
she became a real psychic …and got mad
______________________________________
pitija kaskaderka

je voljela paranormalne aktivnosti
i vidjela simbolič ne veze izmeđ u
naizgled nepovezanih stvari
tako kamenč ić sluč ajno šutnit
njenim srednjeklasnim č izmama
dobijaše nesagledive razmjere u kosmič kim dimenzijama

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Infinity...the size of my embrace

A trace of light trodden upon
The red dawn haunting the crossroads of the step
Among the treetops nestling forebodings
Among the boughs the fruit naked in sorrow
Another spring the chesnut blooms twice
Another spring a cherry tree no fruit delivers
The flower's hunting the webs of an evil beginning

Will you come to me in the unsigthed hours
Be open among the handclocks and put on a cross
For long heartbeaten like a bell from the church
The song reverberating through the universe
An infinity circled within a rainbow
The size of my embrace

Beskraj...velič ine mog zagrljaja

Ugažen trag svjetlosti
Zarudjelom zorom raskorakom vreba
Medj krošnjama od straha gnijezde se slutnje
Medj granjem od tuge razgolić en plod
Još jednog proljeć a kesten dvaput cvjeta
Još jednog proljeć a trešnja mi ne rađ a
Cvijetom plijeni mreže zloslutnog poč etka

Hoć eš li mi doć i u nepregled sati
Medj kazaljkama rasklopljen i na krstu raspet
Medj trnjem od lovora suzom od vremena
Odavno otkucan u srcu ko sa zvonika zvon
Svemirom odjeknuta pjesma
Dugom zaokružen beskraj
Velič ine mog zagrljaja

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The tree I am/ Ja sam drvo

The tree I am
Sideroad’s heart
My words in leaves
They touch the ground

The river I am
A beat in veins
My words in a drop
A swallowed water

The cloud I am
A written sky
Quote me not
The night is eavesdropping

Ja sam drvo
Srce krajputaša
Moje riječ i u lišć u
Dotič u tlo

Ja sam rijeka
U venama dodir
Moje riječ i u kapi
Progutana voda

Ja sam oblak
Ispisano nebo
Ne citiraj me
Prisluškuje noć

©Miroslava Odalović

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Rose Mary

Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone
Lost the first, but the second won.

PART I

“MARY mine that art Mary's Rose
Come in to me from the garden-close.
The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
But the hidden stars are calling you.
“Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
In hours whose need was not your own,
While you were a young maid yet ungrown
You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.
“Daughter, once more I bid you read;
But now let it be for your own need:
Because to-morrow, at break of day,
To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.
“Ere he wed you, flower of mine,
For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.
Now hark to my words and do not fear;
Ill news next I have for your ear;
But be you strong, and our help is here.
“On his road, as the rumour's rife,
An ambush waits to take his life.
He needs will go, and will go alone;
Where the peril lurks may not be known;
But in this glass all things are shown.”
Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:—
“The night will come if the day is o'er!”
“Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star,
And help shall reach your heart from afar:
A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.”
The lady unbound her jewelled zone
And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone.
Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere,—
World of our world, the sun's compeer,
That bears and buries the toiling year.
With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn
Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon:
Freaked it was as the bubble's ball,
Rainbow-hued through a misty pall
Like the middle light of the waterfall.
Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth
Of the known and unknown things of earth;
The cloud above and the wave around,—
The central fire at the sphere's heart bound,
Like doomsday prisoned underground.

[...] Read more

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Paradise Lost: Book 01

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the World, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing, Heavenly Muse, that, on the secret top
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire
That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed
In the beginning how the heavens and earth
Rose out of Chaos: or, if Sion hill
Delight thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed
Fast by the oracle of God, I thence
Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song,
That with no middle flight intends to soar
Above th' Aonian mount, while it pursues
Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer
Before all temples th' upright heart and pure,
Instruct me, for thou know'st; thou from the first
Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread,
Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss,
And mad'st it pregnant: what in me is dark
Illumine, what is low raise and support;
That, to the height of this great argument,
I may assert Eternal Providence,
And justify the ways of God to men.
Say first--for Heaven hides nothing from thy view,
Nor the deep tract of Hell--say first what cause
Moved our grand parents, in that happy state,
Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall off
From their Creator, and transgress his will
For one restraint, lords of the World besides.
Who first seduced them to that foul revolt?
Th' infernal Serpent; he it was whose guile,
Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived
The mother of mankind, what time his pride
Had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host
Of rebel Angels, by whose aid, aspiring
To set himself in glory above his peers,
He trusted to have equalled the Most High,
If he opposed, and with ambitious aim
Against the throne and monarchy of God,
Raised impious war in Heaven and battle proud,
With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power
Hurled headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky,
With hideous ruin and combustion, down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In adamantine chains and penal fire,
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms.
Nine times the space that measures day and night

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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I Cant Watch This

I cant watch this. I cant watch this
I cant watch this. I cant watch this
My my my my tv makes me so bored
Makes me say, oh my lord
What is this garbage here?
Wanna cover my eyes and plug my ears
It sucks, and thats no lie
Its about as much fun as watching paint dry
Lowers my iq one notch
And thats the reason why, uh, I cant watch
I told you homeboy... I cant watch this
Yeah, nothin but trash and you know...
I cant watch this
Poke out my eyes, man... I cant watch this
Yo, gimme that remote control... I cant watch this
Talkin bout sick shows
Teres americas funniest home videos
I cant believe my eyes
When I see the kind of stuff that wins first prize
Somebodys poor old mom
Falls down off the roof, lands right on the lawn
Face first on a rake
I hear theyve got it on the seventeenth take
Thats funny as a kick in the crotch
And that kind of show, uh, I cant watch
Yo, I told you... I cant watch this
Change the channel now, man... I cant watch this
Yo, pass the tv guide here, sucker... I cant watch this
Cosby show and rosanne
Think Ive taken bout as much as I can
Judge wopner, oh my
You gotta be rainman to like this guy
Thirtysomething is alright
If you like hearing yuppies whining all night
Cant stand twin peaks
Wish theyd lynch those donun-eatin freaks
Thos siskel & ebert bums
Oughta go home and sit on their thumbs
Thats word because you know... I cant watch this
I cant watch this
Break it down!
Heres-how-to-order-money-back-guarantee-removes-tough-stains-fast-it-tastes-more-like-fresh-peanuts-they-keep-going-and-going-dont-hate-me-because-im-beautiful-could-be-dandruff-our-prices-ar
Aaaane!!!
Stop! prime time!
Im pretty sure Ill be sick
If I have to watch another stupid pet trick
Or that guy with the real flat hair
That goes woof woof woof and waves his fist in the air
Or those weird talk shows
About transsexual nazi eskimos

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Knyghthode and Bataile

A XVth Century Verse Paraphrase of Flavius Vegetius Renatus' Treatise 'DE RE MILITARI'

Proemium.
Salue, festa dies
i martis,
Mauortis! auete
Kalende. Qua Deus
ad celum subleuat
ire Dauid.

Hail, halyday deuout! Alhail Kalende
Of Marche, wheryn Dauid the Confessour
Commaunded is his kyngis court ascende;
Emanuel, Jhesus the Conquerour,
This same day as a Tryumphatour,
Sette in a Chaire & Throne of Maiestee,
To London is comyn. O Saviour,
Welcome a thousand fold to thi Citee!

And she, thi modir Blessed mot she be
That cometh eke, and angelys an ende,
Wel wynged and wel horsed, hidir fle,
Thousendys on this goode approche attende;
And ordir aftir ordir thei commende,
As Seraphin, as Cherubyn, as Throne,
As Domynaunce, and Princys hidir sende;
And, at o woord, right welcom euerychone!

But Kyng Herry the Sexte, as Goddes Sone
Or themperour or kyng Emanuel,
To London, welcomer be noo persone;
O souuerayn Lord, welcom! Now wel, Now wel!
Te Deum to be songen, wil do wel,
And Benedicta Sancta Trinitas!
Now prosperaunce and peax perpetuel
Shal growe,-and why? ffor here is Vnitas.

Therof to the Vnitee 'Deo gracias'
In Trinitee! The Clergys and Knyghthode
And Comynaltee better accorded nas
Neuer then now; Now nys ther noon abode,
But out on hem that fordoon Goddes forbode,
Periurous ar, Rebellovs and atteynte,
So forfaytinge her lyif and lyvelode,
Although Ypocrisie her faytys peynte.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Let There Be Light/ Spirits Dancing In The Flesh

Chorus:
Let there be light
Let there be joy
Let there be love
And understanding
Let there be peace
Throughout the land.
Verse:
Lets work together
In harmony
Lets build a better world
No suffering
And in times of darkness
Just reach out
cause there is a promise
It wont be denied
Repeat chorus six times
Narration:
This is truly paradise
Being here in this celestial garden
With all the ones you love
Where nothing dies or ever grows old
And to be bathed in light
That cast no shadow
Yes
This is the kingdom within
Still you know
Sometimes I miss seeing and feeling
The spirits dancing in the flesh
Spirits dancing in the flesh
Intro:
Cant you see them all around
Theyre all around us
Spirits, spirits dancing all around us
Chorus - chant:
Spirits
Dancing in the flesh, the spirits
Spirits
Dancing in the flesh, the spirits
Spirits
Dancing in the flesh, the spirits
Spirits
Dancing in the flesh, the spirits
All over, all over, all over

song performed by Santana
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Wreath Of A Child

aimed at those who turned his world
into a fetish doll
pinned by needles
each part of his innocent body
with an apple in his hand
he'll hit the Moon one day
I'm sure he'll hit the Moon
a piece of a mad chaos
the scream of this child
is the scream of a dead chicken
but the Moonbeams
Moonbeams are not deaf
they'll hear

bijes djeteta okomljen na one
što mu svijet pretvoriše u fetiš lutku
probodenu iglama u
svaki djelić njegovog nevinog tijela
jabukom iz ruke hitnuć e Mjesec
sigurna sam hitnuć e Mjesec
komad poludjelog haosa
krik djeteta je bijes mrtvog pileta
ali zrake Mjeseca
zrake Mjeseca nisu gluve
č uć e

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Witness To A Vivacious Dying-Svedok Č İlog Umiranja

'a glaukopis
Of an owl
And an eagle
Flies around the Earth'

Marina Adamovic

Once a dead stone
Speaks up
The living language of birds
And sagacity tumbles
Over a winged glaukopis
The walls of all the knowledge
Will fall down into something
More difficult than death
There will remain a writing
A witness to a vivacious dying

Ispired by the poem 'Except for a vivacious dying' by the poetess Marina Adamovic, quotation taken from the same poem.

‘glaukopis
sove
i
orla
obleć e Zemlju’
Marina Adamović

kad mrtav kamen
progovori
živim jezikom ptica
i mudrost se spotakne
o krilati glaukopis
u nešto teže od smrti srušić e se
zidovi sveg znanja
ostać e tek natpis
svedok č ilog umiranja

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Silent refugees

What are we left with
When years and health are gone
When tents fall down under the roofs
When the shelters no longer shelter

When winters close down frozen and fireless
When summers burn crying for some ice
When springs forget to grow
And autumns die within a leaf

Who are we left with
When all the beloved are gone
When the helpful can no longer help
When there are no more roads to run
When the vacuum of the universe
Closes beyond our heads

Silent refugees from the earth
Silent refugees from the sky
In Who we shall die

Tihe izbjeglice

Sa č ime smo ostavljeni
Kad prođ u godine i uruč i se zdravlje
Kada se šatori pod krovovima ruše
Kad više nema skloništa

Kada se zime bez vatre smrznu
Kad ljeta prže i vape za ledom
Kad proljeć a zaborave da rastu
Kad jeseni umru u jednom listu

Sa kim smo ostavljeni
Kad voljenih više nema
Kad i oni od pomoć i pomoć i ne mogu
Kad više nema puta kojim bismo jurili
Kad se praznina svemira
Zatvori iznad glave

Tihe izbjeglice sa Zemlje
Tihe izbjeglice iz neba
U Kome mi ć emo umrijeti

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Strong Woman vs. A Woman Of Strength

A strong woman works out every day,
Pride in her appearance she portrays,
But a woman of strength kneels to pray,
Her soul in shape, God leading the way.

A strong woman claims she isn't afraid of anything,
Looking forward to challenges each day will bring,
Women of strength show courage in the midst of fear,
Declaring triumph through faith because God is near.

Strong women won't let anyone get the best of them,
So skilled in defenses even if they have to pretend,
Yet a woman of strength gives her best to everyone,
And even on a cloud filled day still bright as the sun.

A strong woman relies on the physical attributes making her tough,
In her search for power and money she will never have enough,
A woman of strength understands that it's not about material stuff,
Knowing that before becoming a diamond first she'll be in the rough.

A strong woman sometimes disguises her feelings shadowed by clouds,
Unhinged when challenged on her policy becoming boisterous and loud,
A woman of strength concerns herself not with judgment from others,
And will not let business interfere with commitments as a wife and mother.

A strong woman is easily impatient back and forth she will begin to pace,
Counting on her holier than thou attitude instead of depending on faith,
A woman of strength is assured trust in God will always carry her through,
And at the Creator's appointed time she'll receive all that is justly due.

A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids the same for tomorrow,
Refusing to take time looking back with reverence and Godly sorrow,
The woman of strength realizes life's mistakes no matter how slim,
While thanking God for the blessings as she capitalizes on them.

A strong woman walks head first with no doubt in her mind,
No matter what, she'll not make this mistake a second time,
But a woman of strength knows God will catch her when she falls,
So when a situation arises again, she's not afraid to answer the call.

A strong woman wears the look of confidence on her face,
Always doing whatever it takes to finish, seeking only first place,
The woman of strength competes with an emotional sense of grace,
Understanding it's more important to run a Holy Spirit filled race.

A strong woman has faith that for the journey she'll have enough,
No matter how uneven the terrain or roads being rocky and rough,
A woman of strength knows it's in the journey she will become strong,
And the love of God is forever with her, no matter how difficult or long.

[...] Read more

poem by Luke Easter
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