It was the last day of school twenty some years ago
The teacher asked us to write a poem, in any form that we may know.
Never doing this before, I let the words flow, just letting it all hang out
After I handed it in, the teacher was really impressed without a doubt
She showed it to some other teachers saying,"Hey look at what Dan has wrote"
None of them could believe I wrote all those silly words down in a little note.
Seven years after school, I wrote my prewife a little poem
She said awww how sweet, and into a junk drawer it was thrown
Five years after that, I wrote a poem in a homemade Valentines card
She looked at it and asked "was buying a real card just to hard"?
Another five years later, sitting by myself and drinking alone
I entered a poetry contest, because I felt my thoughts needed to be known
They sent me a letter back saying they wanted to put my poem in a book!
I right away sent the letter back saying ok, without even taking a second look
That's when it all began, I started writing poetry it seemed like everywhere
Reading it to my friends and they would listen with a unappreciative stare
Then one day I came across this site, kind of interesting called Poetry Soup
I couldn't believe all the heartfelt kindness, they made me feel I was part of the troop
I do not know?
Dear Sir, my innocence is gone now, no more fear
Do you love to **** me again, I am always here.
I wonder when you taught me how to use a pen,
I was so into you but my ****** was in pain!
I was crying; I was too immature to understand
I was turning only 13, I couldn't feel what happened.
but I promise I never forget what you taught me at the end.
I begged you to stop and looked into your eyes,
there was a reflection of a cruel world, that’s what I deserved!
Don't be afraid, mommy never knows what you did,
Nobody knows that you made me bleed.
Dear sir, my innocence is gone with all my tears,
as I had no safe place to hide myself from fears.
Nobody saw anything as your world was so blind!
having hidden hatred inside, a virgin died.
Dear sir, time cannot erase your memories,
time doesn't heal all wounds, that you marked,
yes, you took my innocence that will be always on my mind.
My innocent world was shattered by your touch
Hope no one ever has to experience such
For all the pain, all the cruelty, thank you very much!
Teacher, shall I write a sonnet? Must I?
When I’m not so sure of my poetry…
Shall I write a poem of fourteen lines?
In iambic pentameter –by me?
What shall I write about? What can I say?
In this sonnet which I must jot down now?
My sonnet should be about what today?
To write a great sonnet I’m not sure how…
Teacher, can I write this sonnet later
For I’m not sure of what to write about?
The teacher then takes my simple paper
And “you already did.” my teacher shouts.
‘Detention’ my teacher says, ‘for lying,’
‘But thank you,’ she adds, ‘for at least trying.’
© Mariam Mababaya.
Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”
He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.
Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.
These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”
“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”
His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and played the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.
You never listen
Yes I know it's true
I see you try and deny it
How's that working for you?
I will say one thing
You will hear another
I will try to fix it
The misunderstanding you see
I just got in trouble
(Sigh) I told you so
They never listen to me
They say they do
And I know they try
But all I want to do is scream
"JUST LISTEN TO ME SOMEONE PLEASE"
All I asked is that you think
What is real?
Do I ever ask this?
Will I ever again?
All I really did
All I want
Is to be free
Free to listen
And free to be me
You'll never see
Just how much your
Not listening has killed me
I have tried
Really I did
I know that I'm not eighty
I know that I'm not nice
But the only thing I asked
For was five minutes (at the most) of your life.
I'm sorry that you failed
I'm sorry that I tried but
Mostly I'm just sorry that
I'm not sorry,
White board…names written hori-
To go pee…right when class starts –
THAT’S just wrong…
Of students who have bladder
Problems – WOW!
Not using lunchtime to do
No one knows
When to do their duties – SER-
Writing poem all begins
Observing world around
Poem can be anything
As long as you enjoy it
Be a reader
Read poems aloud
Poetry is meant to be read aloud
Use your senses
As well as brains
To process words of a poem
Using senses make poetry meaningful
Jot down words or phrases you read
Which are appealing, puzzling
Unique or powerful
Use fresh imagery
Showing reader something in a way
He or she
Has not considered before
Use nouns and verbs than adjectives
Ensure every word has a purpose
Tell not the reader how to feel
Let the words draw out
A tribute to Ramana Maharshi, a man who has inspired me for forty years. a greaty Indian saint he was.....Peter
Who Am I?
Sometimes I ask the question “who Am I?”
Am I just this tiny speck put here by trust?
Just a puppet in the hands of destiny
To be blown within the wind just merely dust.
Then sometimes I’m aware of who I am
As I stand beside a lake or waterfall
As the music of the morning melts into me
And deep within that ancient whisper calls.
Well I ask myself this question
“Will I ever find the way?”
Ramana told me what to do
Said “Do it now, today!”
Oh such a little question one may ask
Does the answer come and blow the mind away?
Will the truth arise to set the bird to freedom?
If one asks this thing each minute of the day.
A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.
One after another they arrive
Steeping my eyes in the world
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.
My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?
Honestly stubbornly looking forward logically
A loyal humanistic individual does unpredictably
Having determination to stay friendly cemented
One rebels with aloof detachment though group-oriented
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.
My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.
God, my ears are open
And I know what to do.
Please help me to make a decision
That finally leads to You.
Before we were thought of or time had started,
God put US in His Son’s name..
And each time we pray, you'll see its true,
You can't spell Jesus without including US.
Were a pretty big part of His wonderful name,
For US, He was born;
And His great love for US is the reason He died.
Isn't it thrilling and splendidly grand
He rose from the dead, with US in His plan?
The stones split away, the gold trumpet blew, egospelexpress
And His resurrection was for US.
As JesUS left the earth with His wonderful ascension,
When He felt there was one thing He just had to mention.
"Go into the world and tell them it's true
that I love them all - Just like I love you."
So many people are Christian brothers and sisters,
Don't all the others have a right to know JesUS too?
It all depends on what we do,
He'd like them all to know,
But it all starts with US.
Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
VISIT US AT; http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com
I was a seventeen year old senior in a coed, catholic high school. Our gym classes however were still all boys and all girls. My senior year we had gym every other day and music every other day in the same time slot. The music classes, therefore, were also all boys or all girls.
She was a twenty-eight year old nun in her first teaching assignment. She was in way over her head. She was about five-foot-four and weighed practically nothing. The nuns in our school no longer wore habits and I remember thinking it was a good thing because she would probably fly away like Sally Fields. If you don’t know what I mean by that then you are too young to be reading my story.
The music class was a mad house. She could not control a room of twenty some boys bound and determined to make her life hell. I mean, music class? Really?
We never did the homework assigned; never answered her questions seriously; never believed her threats at discipline; wouldn’t accept the demerits she tried to hand out; and basically goofed off for the hour that was supposed to be dedicated to learning about music.
For some reason, she seemed too proud or too green or too determined to go to the principal or another teacher for help; and, sensing that, we knew we could get away with our childish behavior and so we did.
One day, a handful of us “got in trouble” and she said she wanted to talk to us after class. I was the only one that actually stayed. She tried to lecture me on my bad behavior but I guess my smirk was evidence it was not sinking in. Then, she started to cry, and for the first time I saw her as a person.
“What am I doing,” she cried. "I can’t do this. I am trying; I am really trying, but I am not cut out for this. Why are you boys so mean and hateful?”
I stood up in front of her not knowing what to do or what to say. I felt like a real jerk. I was a real jerk.
Tears poured down her face, which I finally recognized as being a pretty face. She bowed her head and just sobbed. In my awkward seventeen year old manner, I slowly opened my arms and allowed her to lean into me. And I hugged her while she wept.
At seventeen, I was no ladies’ man, and this crying nun was the first woman I had ever held so close to me. I could feel her breasts pressed against me; the heat emitting from her body; and, the delicate nature of her womanly form in my arms. I knew then that I was destined to go straight to hell for the thoughts that were going through my head and the feelings I felt between my legs.
She pulled away and whispered, “I am so sorry, I should not have done that. You may go.”
I simply said, “You know, you are doing fine, you just have a class of a bunch of butt holes”, and walked out of the room. It was that night that she started coming to see me in my dreams. To hell I go, for sure.
I wish I could tell you I had the moxie and the influence to whip that class into shape, but I did not. The mad house continued with one less student joining in the fun. I tried my best to behave, answer her questions, pay attention and feign interest in the topic of the day – but I was just one in a sea of monsters. I stayed after class and after school a few times to talk with her, ask her how she was doing, and see if I could help in any way. She was actually starting to get the hang of things and was able to focus on the few classes that were willing to learn.
At the end of the school year, I was one of the few students who had not enrolled in a college for the coming year. Because I was one of the better students, it caused a little bit of a fuss and a number of teachers talked to me about the huge mistake I was making taking some time off before going to college. It seems they were all convinced that if I did not start into college in the fall, I was doomed to never go to college. I challenged them by saying what they were really worried about was their statistics of percentage of students who went on to further their education.
During the last day of classes, the music teacher asked me to stay after class. It appears, it was her turn to try to talk some sense into me.
“So, I hear you are not going to college,” she said.
“No, I’m going to college … some day, just not this fall.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. Take some time off. Work. Nothing. I don’t know. Why is it so important to everyone? When the time is right, I’ll go to college.”
“They just care about you.”
“Bull loney,” I said, only it was another word.
She smiled at me. I had been dreaming about her now for six months. I changed the topic.
“Have you ever kissed a boy?”
She laughed, “You know, I grew up the same as every girl in this high school. I did have boyfriends.”
“Yeah, but have you ever kissed a boy,” I challenged.
“No. Not the way you mean.”
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?”
“No. Never,” she lied.
“If I told you I will register for college if you kiss me, will you?”
“No. I believe you when you say you just need some time off. I think that is a good idea.”
Then she walked up close to me and stopped a heartbeat away. Suddenly, she reached down between my legs, grabbed the crouch of my pants and said, “Just don’t let this thing get you in trouble.”
She abruptly turned and walked out of the classroom while I tried to catch my breath.
During the graduation ceremony I saw her sitting with the other teachers and shared a private smile with her while walking back to my seat after being handed my diploma. I would never see her again … outside of my dreams.
I often think about my high school music teacher and my ticket straight to hell. Unfortunately, I never heeded her advice. That body part of mine she grabbed ahold of for a fleeting second those many years ago, has gotten me in trouble time and time again.
Judas betrayed Jesus’s whereabouts
End, was near
Son of God, knew this
Universe of the Son of the Divine Father, restored
Sins of man forgiven, Prince of our Universal domain, alive in the hearts of his children
As Mother Teresa words Echo with in My Mind.
So,"You can not save The World,Then save Just One."
This is not about Me Anymore My Friends,indeed.
It is about the Existence of To Be or not To Be...
It is All about You and Your Own Foot work deep inside.
Where A Human Heart truly beats repeatedly and harps to reside.
I can hear You crying in deep Mercies of agony and defeat.
When shallow no longer exist between Our true Minds in the depth of Heat.
Never knowing what or how to serve You in times of need.
Standing right next to You as You see Your terrors Bleed...
The Only thing that We control is;Us Ourselves...
Pulling Our Heads from beneath The reprehended Clouds...
Work hard on You My Friend and do not let the fear over ride Your Faith.
For You will find the thing that You hated most are full of Grace...
For fear and faith can not exist in that same hurtful place of chance.
It is Your Own Self-willed desire that will forever change Your Own Glance...
As I stretch this to Your Hand;A Garden will unfold upon Your Heart.
In one instance of Hope to repel a spell that whispers from deep with-in to start.
Open Your Doors and Plead for Help and let All hear You cry out...
No longer will You feel loneliness,Selfish Desire,or even doubt...
In that motion of remorse it is God holding the Other Hand...
Looking behind Your footprints in The taunted minds in Your Own Land.
Weep no more My weary Friend and never feel like it is an end.
For Life is The Portal to Eternities Heaven for We All are destined to descend.
The options may not be apparent but choice is offer to those that listen to wear it.
It is like a policy condition to appease You Own Personal Kit...
For just to accept Our Holy Son in Gods Graces as Our Sire...
For God created You with All His Passions and desires.
Your word needed here and now is not My Own created Plan.
Swallow All of this well and adjust The Digestion before it drowns Your Glands.
It is Your Plan My Dear Child to comprehend and learn with style.
After All One lit the match of Our Lives Perfect Beginning like Your Smile..
Walk into Your Own Garden to Behold The Center were You look...
It is most likely A Pathway that You skip or have forgot to book.
As We live and attempt to grow grey and Old.
Only an unblemished Heart of innocence will repair Your heart to Gold.
Get Selfish if that is what it takes to see Your Own destination on Your Plate.
For Inspirations to last belief has to stand behind an open minded new slate.
Never forget I saw You standing their and that I truly care as You commit.
For Every Commitment that You can honor guides devotion to its heights lit.
There will stand a single Flower with essences of Love and Your scent of Power...
Bloom not against the wind ever;for like a Butterfly You will flutter and then soar.
Growth is Acceptance being brought to Your knee When You Pray more...
The visit on Earth may be bitter or sweet or both to accomplish My Friend...
The Choice of A Happy Ending is Yours to commence and send.
For The Perseverance is Your Own Reservation that We respect as Precious Wills.
To All The Unnecessary Grief, Drama, Madness,and hurtful words in place still...
I used a Quote Mother Teresa.The word Game was word of Achievement that give You as an Individual the abilities to work on Your Own inside job...The Key to Game being inner Happiness...
1.)The Only thing We control is; Us Ourselves.
2.)The options may not be apparent but choice is offered to Those that listen to wear it.
3.)Bloom not against the wind ever;for like a Butterfly You will flutter and then soar.
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
I've watched the war from behind closed doors;
Eyes too glued to close.
And now knowing what's in store, there's porn no more.
God's love is the only hope we know.
We are forgiven because of the love that is Jesus.
We are saved because of the love that is Jesus.
We give our lives to the Father for we are His children and He loves us.
We are loved!
No matter what we've done, we are loved!
Confess and ask for forgiveness;
This is such a beautiful gift!
Thank You God!
Thank You Jesus!
You forgive me!
You save me!
You change me!
I am changed!
I am new!
I am renewed!
I am forgiven!
I am saved!
I am changed!
There's porn no more
For God's hope is in store!
There's porn no more
For God's love is the hope of the world!
I have barely seen Him or catch even His shadows around.
I have barely touch His hands...
Nor I have barely heard His soft soothing voice..
Nor I have barely felt His footseps lurking beside or behind me..
However, what a deep soaring reassurance is His presence...
Not of like a Human Being that can be perceive..
Rather He is the silent rescuer and ever living Spirit..
No need for extravagant welcoming..
He has always been within our innerselves..
He is the calmer of our quivering nerves..
He is the greatest teacher not wanting us to fail.
He is our dearest friend not forgetting..
He always is waiting for you and me..
His arms widely open to embrace us..
His unending; unfailing is so felt..
Beyond wonders; beyond times and beyond borders..
All the time we are invited to talk to Him..
Even sing a song for Him and with Him..
More to play a harmonious melody to commemorate Him..
Truly, majestic in limitless abundance is His providence...
He is only one..
No one can overpass Him..
All the earth will uphold His Name..
He is our God - OUR GOD...
GOd has always been with me..
and so is He with you..
He will comfort you..
He will be there, never leaving..
God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.
I do not know?
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome.
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome.
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.
The ambition that was given for mission
Methodically apply message from sky
A hard worker know they need no permission
They remain practical as time flies by
Arising at times their is pessimism
So cautiously they vie for self discipline
While still relying on expressionism
Patience from them is like the drug insulin
The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
I often do things my way
some times getting into trouble
especially when I was younger
the rules were there for breaking
A real scourge when at school
my teachers often despaired
boarding school was not fun
except for secret midnight rides
Even now I still go my way
although staying with in the law
my dad says I have my own way
of doing things, he is quite right
I just refuse to be a sheep
blindly following the others
if it does not make sense
then I always go my own way
I used to sneak out on moonlit nights catch up a horse and ride it through the fields
with just a halter or bridle great fun
We walk talk like champions in the streets of nowhere planting seeds birthdays turn into funerals the life cement was not strong enough to build our hopes or blessings that petrol drive through our hidden abilities we all have spare wheels that God personally manufactured for us and He made education our only air filler for flat tires and this is why we don't stop and breath on our way to our dreams before we get admired right at this moment sum1 is getting cured through the love of spoken worded words laying clear pictures and he could name us life pitchers with endless scriptures and that's for his ears as he turns to be the world's champion
Imagine a king who has many
Servants staying at his palace
It would make no sense at all if those
Servants do not fulfill their purpose
Those servants were ordered to work
And to respect that king at all times
While the king gives them a place to stay
They should always make his palace shine
Any slave who does not work may
Eventually be kicked out soon
Any slave who works improperly
May likewise end up without a room
That king has a right to command
His slaves to sing lovely songs of him
To choose the number of times to wash
A staircase, because he is 'king'
That king has a right to command his
Slaves to do well to his family
To treat his close friends with respect
And welcome his guests cheerfully
To tell them not to touch this and that
To disallow them from certain rooms
To do what he commands them to do
As he is the owner who rules
So when Allah gives a command
A command that must be obeyed
You must obey Allah's Commandments
Or else you might get yourself astray
So if Allah commands you to pray
To Him, five prayers everyday
Don't ask 'why? ' Don't ask 'why five salahs? '
Just listen to God, and obey
God lets you walk on the earth He made
God gives you fresh air for you to breathe
God keeps the clouds above you floating
And gives you drink and food to eat
God gave you a brain with which to think
And still you ask 'why should you pray? '
We pray to Allah, the Mighty King
Who lets us live each night and day
When you're awake, when you're asleep
The air you breathe each night and day
What you inhale and what you exhale
Are some things from God which you don't pay
The ability to taste is a
Gift from God which many just ignore
Imagine if you could not taste the
Food you eat, eating would be a bore
You eat fruits and vegetables that God
Created, from plants that Allah made
You drink water which belongs to God
And yet you ask 'why must we pray? '
I'm not wearing underwear
I can’t afford to clean my clothes
I shower every day
and sensitive skin from soap and psoriasis makes me itch
But I have bills to pay
I know you understand
Raising my little half brother and half sister
I've only met once
who are an ocean away
But this isn’t my story, it's yours
and the memories that remain
I know we've talked about it
Your pain and mine
About dad an alcoholic, and the abuse
and how you’re still attracted to it
But I still remember soo many nights
And soo many strange days
You dragged by your hair
I'll never forget
You thrown through the door
is embedded in my head
You with black eyes
you fell out of bed
I remember everything said
My brother’s name
Psychological abuse for you
soo long ago mom
You left and I don’t blame you
Years of you being cheated on
And dad would introduce us to his girlfriends
Easter holidays treasure hunt
While your husband was out betraying everyone
I know you know
That he talks poorly about you
And acts like the better man
But mom I remember
and you need to understand
What you went through
And the nights when I heard the door slam close
because you were fighting
and he told you to leave
That was how I met god in a sense
and always prayed for you to come back
Then finally I prayed for you sanity safety and for you to leave
And I would cry
as quietly as I could
cry myself to sleep
and chances are
dad either fell asleep
or went out in his drunken stupor
to cheat on you again
The divorce is over
It’s been over for years
But yet its still messy and I bite my tongue and remember
The night you came into my room
And told me you had to leave
I remember taking beer to kindergarten
Hiding it from you and dad
To throw it away
And my teacher in grade three finally asked
No lie mom
I had the same teacher in kindergarten and grade three
I could write an entire poem
about all of the people who shaped my mind
But I need you to see
When I come visit and am called an incest family man by your boyfriend
for giving you a hug
You’ve fallen into the same trap
And it’s like my own mother I’m not allowed to love