To hear John Davis read his poems is like being exposed to the soul of the man. He felt that through poetry and oration, he could “talk directly to your nervous system; not your cerebral hemispheres,” and lead one to an intuitive understanding of their part in the universe.
Le Service Del Graal 
He, who would read my works, know me entire.
Are you beyond guilt, regret and desire?
Resolved to do whate’er God may require?
He, who is near to me, is near the fire.
Pursuing true Self, higher and higher.
Your life to stand as Truth’s indemnifier.
To be the People’s great simplifier.
He, who is near to me, is near the fire.
Being your own judge and crucifier.
Endless, inner trial by that judge of ire.
Pain for mortal things, your purifier.
He, who is near to me, is near the fire.
No charted ways, no rest, no time to tire.
Alone, always alone, your Quest transpire.
Your death alone, your life’s sanctifier.
He, who is near to me, is near the fire.
The Lower Depths
I would not go where I have been,
Though earth’s foundations fled.
The lower depths of guilt and sin,
The land of the living dead.
There is a darkness not called night,
In the land of lost content.
There is a stillness not called rest,
Where the perished people went.
The Hawk, intrepid, from his nest,
On the dark, imperishable hill.
Implacable eyes, starless skies,
Stares down on the World of Will.
Don’t ask why, that you and I,
Must to Hell, and then come back.
God decrees just as He pleases.
Make or break! Play the Man! Act.
Agnosto Deo
I am the Voice of the Symbol!
Listen, all you who would know.
“Parsifal, Merlin and Wotan,
Wandering Jew and Negro.”
Of the old king who is suff’ring,
Wounded, but powerless to die.
Of the stone grave where the heroes,
Meet to plan ventures on high.
Aged old Child of the Mother.
Cleft spring where madmen must drink.
Lo! Heed the Voice of the Symbol.
Listen, don’t ask, and don’t think!
Now ends the Age of the Fishes,
Darkness, at war with the Light!
Pegasus brings Water Bearer,
Ridd’n by El Khidr, the Black Knight!
Khidr, the loner, the stranger.
Gog and Magog, he’ll defeat!
There on the plains, Armaggon,
Comforter, Self, you will meet.
Conscious redeemed by Unconscious.
Left side of brain by the right.
Secret of the Golden Flower.
Marriage of Day with the Night.
War not for me in a Vietnam!
Damn not another man’s sin!
Seek not for me in the Heavens!
I’m the still, small voice within!
John E. Davis II
July 12, 1933 – February 24, 1984
Like everybody, I have my struggles, but I now also have my joys; and the fire from those struggles—from the pain and the loss—burns away the dross from, and purifies the gold of life, and the gold of the soul. And so for several years now I have been trying to save what I can of that gold, so that when I die men and women will come to know how much I too have loved, and cherished life; how I have touched the earth, and gazed upon these hills—West Virginia—and dreamed at night of the many-billowed sea. So that they may know that I was not a stone or a beast, but a man, with a warm heart, and a soul honored and proud to be a part of the Family of Man.
February 23, 1984