Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Narrative Confusion Poems | Narrative Poems About Confusion

These Narrative Confusion poems are examples of Narrative poems about Confusion. These are the best examples of Narrative Confusion poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behing,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...


Details | Narrative | |

Dusk

Dusk covered the land
Like a million blankets the sun blackened
The dawn of the fiends has come
The imps arise from black holes

Thick dark smokes engulf the land
Red rivers of marred blood run freely
Hyena’s laughs and cries so vivid
Flimsy hopeless screams fill the night

 Police sirens nowhere heard
All victims of the diabolic demons
The flattery head men are quiet
The dreaded gloom has no march!

The denizens of slums asphyxiated
The fierce fires devour their huts
Mothers and babies murdered in cold blood
Justice slapped on face with no utterance

Remnants of the paranoia, brave cowards
Would sneak and live to tell
Their seeds in songs and narratives
Who will burn the blankets of terror.


Details | Narrative | |

The Phone

The phone rings empty into the night.
Filling a void that brings strange comfort
to thoose around.

Rage eats away untill it bores a hole
straight through are hearts.
Whiskey cauterizes the wound.

Alone with fools we gather.
The bitter ones taking to there barstools.
the weak look to punish thoose happy
bastards.
Who dare to feel anything in the place of  
emptyness.

She left so many years befor.
At least her mortal soul did.
I rememeber when it was when I still
dared to dream.

Long befor reallity was a friend.
Lovers lie.
Motions keep us living.

She spoke but the words were empty as her heart.
So as strangers we parted just as we met.
With a bitter taste I never did reply.

The phone rang it's last time.
I herd it echo farewell down the hall.

I had to go so I never unlocked the door.
i just left my emotions hanging  like some
forgotten coat pushed back in
the closet.

Its been almost a year since that phone filled
the emptyness of my soul.
If only I had answered.


Details | Narrative | |

Alone in a Hospital Room - An Alzheimer's Song

Don’t you remember, love, how we danced that first night;
beneath the sun’s rays, toes dipping in the cooling sand, 
to the tune of our favorite song –
with me humming the best I could – 
(I sounded terrible, but you told me I sounded divine, remember?)
while falling all over myself, and your delicate feet; 
and you, trying so hard not to laugh as I made such a fool of myself!
Did you ever think we would go 
from being love-sick teenagers dancing on the beach, 
to a couple of old-timers reminiscing 
about our best years – our long ago days together? 

Honey? 
Sweetheart, please…
If there is any part of that teenage girl 
left within that beautiful head of yours…please; 
please, just look in my eyes as you once did…
look at me, sweetheart…
Don’t you remember? 

My love, do you hear? 
They’re playing our favorite song…



*Inspired by Izzy Gumbo's Solfege Contest
I really hope I did this right! :)


Details | Narrative | |

The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013


Details | Narrative | |

FISCAL FIASCO

I met someone I know quite well, he gets about in cars, does buy and sell.
He spoke to me upon a theme, we were stirring coffee; I had just added my cream.
When (Fiat) money, he intoned..)
This word does it ring a bell?
Of it have you heard; or known, do tell.?
The cost of Fiat cars I then proclaimed?
No it’s of money I speak,he said if it’s all the same,
I had bought some autos and to me the word was told,
That it is money without collateral backing, that’s the truth stone cold!
So in this stressured contemporary rhyme, I think I must… It’s now high time
In fact a lack of sober views and action which did not ensue...
Control! ….. control!, "well they did not" now high (inflation) pop pop pops..!
Consume, consume they said and greed is good for all..!
Poor old Jim john and Doug..)  Rachel, Joan and Queenie McCall..!
A dream was sold and lives were told, It’s Oh! so safe, more so than gold!
Now Fiat cash is on the scene, they run it off Oh! ream on ream
Just like my coffee encircling mug, so here’s to the truth lets give it a plug.
When I again pour in my cream, 
as it begins to merge like inflations infusion, Maybe I’ll dream.
That financial fiasco’s and social screams are only rumours on a jittery theme,
However until "their problem" has been (sold),  I’ll trade some paper cash for gold.

© Joe Maverick 13-11-2010


Details | Narrative | |

Portrait Of Red

Pain is just another form of medication, feeding the demons that nest inside.
A temporary fix, a band aid per say, covering the secrets I am trying to hide.

I am like the right hand to the devil, with the ability to manipulate others thoughts and emotions.  Exploiting there fears, insecurities and dreams, I can flip in a split second, merely to show my complete and utter devotion.

My eyes and ears are magnified by ten, a gift to some but a burden to me.  I close my eyes to try and escape for a brief moment just to feel free.

Intrigued by the sharp edges of a blade, and the power that it contains.  Just a simple brush across my skin, paints a beautiful portrait of red, dripping like falling drops of rain.

I hurt myself on the outside to kill the evil that lives within.  I'ts relief flowing through my veins, with a rush of instant gratification to make me grin.

The truth to any story always has an open window, it will sneak it's way through.  The eyes can be read like a paper back novel, every word, every image, a tragedy but true.

I'm always aware of my situation and my surroundings, even though it appears I am not paying attention.  I see all, I hear all, studying anyone and everyone requires my full concentration.

Fantasying about death and the peace it brings, oddly is what makes me smile.  To finally put an end to my journey in hell, only keeps me in denial.

Overwhelmed with exhaustion at the end of everyday, I lay my head to rest.  I think to myself that maybe someday, I will finally pass life's test.


Details | Narrative | |

I Lost a Whole Weekend (Please Pardon My Rant)

I am your champion, I fight for your cause,
my love and devotion give some people pause.

When I saw you I knew you, just like with your dad.
I guess our deep happiness makes some people mad.

I work hard at my job, so that we can live,
and hear me now, son, when it's time to give,
I am the one who ups the amount,
I've done this more often than I can recount.

I also work so your dad will be covered,
for doctors and dentists and allergists and others,
and who do you think pushed him to go
to the skin doctor some two years ago?

From the moment I met you, you felt like my son,
but this is a battle that cannot be won.
When your dad and I married, I didn't steal him away,
he's just as devoted to you to this day.

I heard someone had told you that I was "controlling,"
(I can't even write this without my eyes rolling).
Who insisted your dad fly to LA to see you?
Who worked overtime to pay for this venue?

I encourage his freedom, I've not clipped his wings,
his happiness, above all, is the important-est thing.

I will not be silenced, nor be vilified,
and it just breaks my heart when you take HER side.

I am LOVING and GIVING and ALL THAT IS GOOD,
and I'm tired of being so misunderstood.

So, pardon my migraine, it wasn't intended,
my strength just gave out as your judgement descended.

I lost a whole weekend, I slept like the dead,
I was just too defeated to face down my dread.
I kinda' felt reality shatter, unsure what was real,
like in "Jacob's Ladder."

We're getting no younger, your father and I,
the older we get, the faster time flies.
I love you as if you were my own child,
I'll not carry this burden unreconciled.


©Danielle White


Details | Narrative | |

Shut Your Dirty Mouth

Tonight I thought I shook off a roach. Swore I felt it approach. Imagined it crawling down
my throat. My Dad came out from the den and asked What’s Wrong? I said, Nothing, I’m fine
when I still felt bits of dead roach nesting in my spine. That’s Divine.

I feel the Holy Spirit in me tonight. Jesus Christ! I must have done right! Don’t come
near me, I’m contaminated, clearly. Oh, God, need me! So that the sky doesn’t turn black
every time I look up to seek your advice. My chips are stacked, I’ve got them wracked.
Roll the dice six six six every time. On my Dime. I think I may have crossed the line.
Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I’m not hip to this.

Maybe I just need to settle down. Take a breath. Take a pill. Sit real still. Stare until
I become comatose blare my music so loud that my eyes become brazen and I can’t hear what
you’re saying.

Do roaches bite? I wonder at night. As I hide beneath the covers that used to shield us
from one another. Protect us from the evils in this world, bring no harm to little girls.
Now they just cover up old condoms and dirty food crumbs.

Numb. Numb. Numb. Can’t move. Limbs feel numb, limbs feel wrung, limbs feel slung,
stammering and slurring like grandma after her stroke.

This is a joke. The world’s a joke. We’re a joke.

Then why aren’t we laughing? Why aren’t we guffawing until our paws fall off, our mittens
become smitten and we cough up our dirty lungs with joy.

Oh boy, here I go again. If this is a joke why aren’t we laughing? Why aren’t we guffawing
until our paws fall off, our mittens become smitten and we cough up our dirty lungs with joy.


Details | Narrative | |

Misguided Symphony

He composes talons as men walk into the fire

Twisted hatred inspired in fountains of meat

A self propelled corruption of delusion

Raining sheets of copper sparks 

Blind knives open sand whipped architecture

Two breeds of darkness, light engulfed

Dystopian bred ignorance swallowing rage

Fluctuating temperaments shroud utopia


Details | Narrative | |

this was me

it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...

i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..

many months and thousands of hours, 
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..

i understood, i felt his pain, 
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.

living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..

as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..

i felt he was worth giving 
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..

america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.

the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying, 
i was alone in a strange country, 
knowing no one, in a house, not a home, 
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..

with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..

i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep 
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..

planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut, 
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.

jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe, 
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks, 
terror still haunts me; i am determined 
to not let another change me.

i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.

~this was me~ 


Details | Narrative | |

A Story

It was on a Christmas Eve
early in the morn
into a world so often cold
a little girl was born.
Her parents, they did love her,
the way that it should be
but her father, who's a good man,
had been raised with cruelty.

When he doled out punishment
for all her childish ways
the lessons that he taught her
would stay with her all her days.
Growing up was never easy
and she grew up so confused.
Other kids did more than tease her
and at home she was abused.

But she grew up all the same
then came to that time of life
when she thought she was ready
became a mother and a wife.
They faced a lot of hardships
but tried to love anyway
and her husband, who does love her,
has been so mean along the way.

Yes, life is hard for everyone
this woman surely knows.
Hate and misunderstanding
seems to follow where she goes
with so many quick to tell her
that she is always wrong
so many times she has been shown
that she just don't belong.

She tries so hard to understand
the reasons for her tears
and is punished for her feelings
as she has been all her years.
She knows that there is more to life
than what always seems to be.
All she wants is to be loved
without the cruelty.



Note:  My dear friends, this is not an easy write for me but a necessary one.  I was at a very 
low point in my life and I prayed for God for direction or to let it end.  I wrote the poem I Am 
then joined PoetrySoup.  I know God led me to this wonderful site for a reason.  I may still 
have a long way to go but I am starting to move forward.  I want to thank you all for your 
encouragement and kindness.  Being able to write again is helping me and as fellow writers, 
I know you understand.  Thank you for sharing with me and teaching to become a better 
writer.  God bless you all and Happy Holidays!  Love, Robin.


Details | Narrative | |

I Want

Yah! Let me tell you,
Let me tell you about the last struggle in our country
2000 political violence.
Those days thousands of people lay dead                      
The streets were full of blood.

I want to tell you about how people were suffering
Some they spend seven days without anything to eat
Some where forced to walk hundred miles
People where struggling,
People where crying
I want to tell you about how people were disappearing.

Brothers and fathers were forced to join the ruling party
Young stars were forced to join the green bomber youth militia
Mothers and sisters were raped,
Brutality raped.
Some were raped in front of their husbands,
In front of their children.
I was scared very scared
My tears were running down to my chick
When I saw a young 14 year girl raped in front of me
She was raped by 4 strong men. 
I sweated! Shivering nothing to say
Only I was shaking my head my hands were holding my mouth,

Let me tell you about the blood shade.
I want to tell you about the white farmers 
White people were forced to leave their farms
They left their properties they were not aloud to carry 
Anything,
Some they were beaten
Their farms were burned in ashes
Crops were slashed by the so called war veterans.

I want to tell you about how people were murdered
Some you find their body parts missing.
I was breathing heavily, 
When my friend was hanged on a mango tree
Nqobani was innocent, he was a kindness man
But he died because he was an enemy to the ruling part.
He died whilst fighting for change
Her private parts were found missing.
Tears can dry but memories can't die
I will always remember you
And I will keep on fighting unless we set free.




I want to tell you about this government 
This government of ours has totally destroyed,
Our beloved country
It has totally destroyed the whole situation
From his excellence president to his exultant dictator
Let me tell you I want.

Only the government they know is to maintain its solders
And policeman by buying them new boots, new stockiest, new 
Uniforms,
New underpants and the new button sticks
Yet the economy is going down.
Things are hard to get
No ballpoint, no sugar, no fuel, no water, even a toilet tissue 
You can’t find it
Or cry beloved country or cry beloved country.

I want to tell you everything and I will tell you
From south, to north, east to west.
From kwaBulawayo to Harare via Gweru
All corners of the country 
Let me tell you and I will tell you



Details | Narrative | |

Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


Details | Narrative | |

Me, Myself, and I - (Part 1)

Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by 
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and 
read Part 2 to complete the poem and leave your comments on the Part 2 submission. Thank 
you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain diminished 


Me, Myself, and I...


“There are things that concern us,”
		Consensed my “Selves” in earnest
““We” fear that “I” have succumbed to delusion”

“And after careful deliberation
		It is with much hesitation
That we choose to delineate upon this confusion”


“Fact is your intuition
		Is riddled with superstition
And your judgment leaves much to be desired”

“So you leave us no recourse
		Don’t push us to use force”
It is then that the “I” was summarily fired


I exclaimed “By whose authority?” Response, “Rule of majority”
“The “Myself” and the “Me,” (forthwith the “We”), are experts in our field”

“And with much technique and time
		And some forays into the sublime
The nature of your malady will be revealed”


“So to keep yourself from having a fit
		Step back and just calm down a bit”
“We,” they said, “certainly have this under control”

“We swear this won’t hurt at all”
		Then I felt my inhibitions fall
Still I said a prayer to God that He keep my soul


You know, fact is I do feel off axis
		As evidenced by such parapraxis
As this prose that I, (or is it “Us”), seek to pen

And with my mind feeling numb
		I finally chose to succumb
And allow the “Me” and the “Myself” to begin


And then came questions in a flurry
		Answer, answer and please do hurry
Not one moment of respite did they give

They pushed and they prodded
		With every “T” crossed and “I” dotted
My mind felt like it had gone through a sieve


And all this psycho-analysis
		Is causing my mind paralysis
The questions, can you stop with the questions please

“Yes, oh yes indeed
		I do believe we have what we need
To make an attempt to identify your unknown neuroses”


Details | Narrative | |

New Paths

A new path is what we seek.
The surroundings are taking a peek,
Going through, very meek,
Seeing no bleaks,
Getting piqued,
While hearing creaks,
In the new paths that we seek...

The new path is what is found,
Going through forests bound,
Going through the path inbound,
With soothing and raging water sounds.
Walking confound,
Silence profounded,
Sight astounded,
Passed through burial grounds...

Seeking for another way around,
Noises resound,
Spirits surround,
The paths newfounded,
Our instincts compounded,
Followed by the hounds,
Echoes in ultrasounds,
Passed through mysterious breeding grounds...

Going to stamping grounds,
Trying to get off this ground,
With those burial mounds,
Death moving the wheels around,
Silhouettes running aground,
Trying to leave safe and sound,
Passing through some hunting grounds...

Seeking for common grounds,
The mistaken path redounded,
Regretful screams abound.
Plans propounded,
Though some are fouled,
Throughout the paths that were found...

However, most are lost and wounded,
Most tended to walk out,
Some minds and hearts full of doubts.
Hearing salvation shouts,
From all these new paths walked and found...


Details | Narrative | |

The People Around Me

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.


Details | Narrative | |

[IN]SANITY

I've counted the bars of my prison walls. 3 sides of 10 bars; 30. One solid wall,
cold, wet, molded concrete.
I've lost count of how long I have been here,
I hardly remember when I got here, but, it’s been winter
for a long time.
I've forgotten what it is to move in grass and amongst other bodies.
I am chained in here,
thick steel cuffs chain me to the wall.
I've counted the faces, whose names I can't remember,
and then lost count of them
as they flash and flicker, fast forwarded in my mind.
I've been motionless for a long time,
I’m not sure I even remember what movement is.
I’m not sure I can even remember to move.
I’ve forgotten who I am, my name, how old I am
how tall I am, my features, likes and dislikes;
there are no mirrors.
I’ve been nameless for a long time, and there is no one else
here in this vast blank expanse but me and these bars,
and one wall.
I’ve realized I don’t even know what I am
and that panics me, but I know not what this feeling is?
What Is feeling?
I’ve thrown myself at the bars, clawing at the nothing
that lies behind them.
What Is nothing?
I’ve discovered there is a name that echoes and echoes In the vastness,
how do I know that name?
Is it mine, yours, theirs, his, ours?
I’ve remembered, the memories crush into me,
a weight I had not known for unknown amounts of time.
No go away! Again, please...
I’ve tried to forget,
but the white walls are somewhere out there, waiting.
and I? Why, I do not even exist.
[IN]SANITY


Details | Narrative | |

Like Gold Dust

Pile up treasures; rise and fall.
And want the lake and not the land fall,
Hold the bizarre beast, I wish wife.
My life is abandoned to the Life.

Behold an ideal idol of a wife:
The down fall will soon be late,
Whilst the crescent lake will wait;
This day will emerge another life.

Now bread and butter set on the table,
But miss the compassionate ring of able,
And call for the lonely wandering widower,
This moment can’t afford losing her.

Should I accept the defeat of livelihood,
And immortalize the spirit of widowhood?

My life is given to the Light.
These episodes of testing I can’t face:
I plant prayer for its erase,
And wind for a save and safe alight.


Details | Narrative | |

A Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


Details | Narrative | |

The Stranger in the House

I wander through this house
As silent as a mouse

Though it is my own I feel I've been away
I'm rather speechless, having not much to say

I see my brother working in the shed
Just passing the time as if he's seen red

I see my other brother smoking a cigarette
With no enthusiasm... has he too seen red?

I do my daily routine
Pace, contemplate and clean

Though something is not quite right
This summer day bears no light

I come into the living room
Usually lively... filled with joy

Now it's naked and abandoned
Like a toddlers chest of old toys

But wait... I see Mother on the couch
She's sad with wet crimson face

She doesn't even say hello
Has my coming here been a waste?

"Why are you crying Mother
Have I done something wrong?"

She just sobs and sobs
... a rather disquieting song

My father looks down at her
With a smile

But something about him
Seems quite vile

"I miss him... I miss him so much"
She cries so helplessly

"Who do you miss Mother?
I don't understand what you mean..."

My dad buts in with no consideration
Revealing horrible secrets in such wicked display

"Alright, alright... I confess... I killed him!
But quite you're crying about it, it's better off this way!"

It all comes to me
In such a sudden burst

I feel the intense hatred
So much it hurts

I'm not here... I don't exist... (at least not anymore)
I'm the stranger in the house!

But soon I'll get my revenge
I'll make Father feel as tiny as a mouse!

I know what you've done
I should've known all along

I will tell everyone
And correct this home gone wrong

I'll come to life again! I'l---






Wait...

Rooms dark...

Blanket wet... I feel cold...

Why am I laying down? Was all that just a---

"Morning son! I've made you breakfast;
Scrambled eggs and french toast, your favorite!"

Could he really? ... no...
Just a dream...



NOTE: This entire dream actually happened to me. The only thing that was fiction was the part about my dad making me breakfast in the morning.



For Russel Sivey's Dream Contest

03 - 19 - 2013


Details | Narrative | |

Midnight Again

Its midnight again, TV on
The sofa becomes my bed
As the confusion of our lives
Fills my weary head

At times I drift off
And think of days gone by
How I yearn for yesterday
So bad it makes me cry

Other times I feel just like a kid
With something new to share
And you put your soul around me 
And tell me how much you care

At times I think its working
Like I’ve finally met the mark
And all too quickly it ends
And I’m alone, on the couch, in the dark

Why can’t it all be the way it was
That day on top of the hill
Am I really as bad a person 
As you can make me feel


Inside I try so hard
Outside it seems I don’t
I want to meet your needs
But I don’t know what you want

I try to be your husband
Your lover and your friend
Somehow I never am
And I find myself here again

I try to be a father
But those efforts just backfire
Somehow I manage to destroy
Everything that I desire

I ask myself, “Is it worth it?”
Why don’t I start anew
And after hours of contemplation
Just one answer, “I love you”

And resolved to that end
I lay my heart to sleep
And I pray the lord
Our souls together he will keep

A silent kiss to you and the kids
In hopes of a better day
As I close my eyes to dream
And let my troubles drift away 


Details | Narrative | |

The Ego Monster

The ego monster came one day and settled near a vulnerable soul
Begot intended alteration, to turn Diamond, into coal
This soul it hurt from melancholy, a lost and lonely, sobbing mess
Perceived, drastic solutions, might remedy their grief and stress.
It whispered false suggestions, that soul needed none and was alone
And tricked the soul with toxic trust, then set it on a paper throne

The soul required more conformation of how unique. they lusted be
Then faked a mirror of illusion of everything they wished to see.
The ego monster taught soul words like biggest, toughest, richest, best
Offered soul a moral compass, that turned north to south and east to west.
Injected soul with huge desires to gain more power than they deserved
Convinced soul that their path was straight, though it was warped and curved.

One day whilst strolling round the past, desiring to re-visit there
Soul glanced into another them, a them, which laughed without a care
Then felt cold shards, cut cold shut eyes, saw emptiness within desire
And wondered why their heart was numb, when once there had been fire

They set upon an expedition to fix the damage to their soul
Compass in hand they trod the journey back, to fill the empty hole
The road was not as they remembered, signs there, did not belong
The compass pointed south, not north their compass must be wrong?

So blindly they retraced their steps to victories that they’d thought they’d won
Victories that they soon regretted, when they saw the damage they had done
The flimsy paper throne collapsed, as shame weighed heavy upon heart
At last they stood there, mortal, towing tons of wrongs upon their kart.

With open eyes and open mind they turned and faced their foe
Reluctant to face truths and lies, which lay within that ego
They battled insecurity, fought doubts and vanity
Till somewhere hid between it all they hacked up sanity

The harshest lessons learned are those that burn our souls repeatedly
A fool is only foolish when repeating their stupidity
Torturing ourselves for life about mistakes we now regret.
De-valuates the wisdom learned from wrongs we can’t forget
The ego monster searches for the anxious and defenseless
It’s swallowed, viewed, it’s said and heard, it’s touched, its smelt It's senseless
It’s thought about too often, confused with supremacy
But wisdom, strength and courage live in souls who’ve learned humility.
































Details | Narrative | |

Gun Shots

Sudden as thunder they crack in the night,
the boys in the lane leap over fences,
bottles crashing into stone walls,
and bullets whistle with echoing sound.


Political war,
Tribal war,
Gang war.
The boys fight with one another for the release of "the Don"
they rampage in the little town,
and round up all the informers.


Night comes alive,
doors open wide,
then suddenly,
"Lord, someone shot Sammi Joe!"

Lights bang!
and everyone rushes to look at the innocent one
lying peacefully in her pool of blood.

"Sammi Joe is dead!"
Her frightened mother yells.

Gunshots cracking in the night,
smashing glass,
and chiseling walls,
the burning night heat,
people scatter in the street.

Mr. Crow pisses his pants when the boys spot him as the informer
Dragged in the streets,
Crow's face flushed with the wall,
bullets puncture his head.

Further down the road,
the innocents grip tightly to their beds,
trembling,
wondering who will be next.

Bullets dances around the walls,
wailing heightens,
The massacre begins.
Blood washes the street,
dead bodies blocking the gate of the little town.

                                  ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Narrative | |

ARE YOU MY DADDY

I'm on a dusty backroad journey, in the Pearl of Africa;
They don't invest in road repair in the country of Uganda.
It's a pot-holed highway, that seems to go on forever;
We're in a worn out SUV, and our group is crammed together.

Finally, we pull off this road, to a sight I've never seen;
They call it a "Highway Orphanage", truly nothing there is clean.
There's just two broken down huts, and a large field of clay;
And the sun is beating down on us, it's the middle of the day.

The Chief tells us a tragic story, that's repeated almost every week;
How children are abandoned here, to a future that's somewhat bleak.
Mothers of these little children, so very desperate to simply survive;
Travel the long road to Kampala, in hopes of work to keep them alive.

Its here they leave their precious child, and sometimes more than one;
I'm sure they're confused and brokenhearted, when the sad deed is done.
The clothes on these children are old and torn, and many have none at all;
And they aren't left with any toys, there's no games, stuffed pet, or balls.

There seems to be scarce food here, and there's no close running water;
But I'm sure the greatest lack, is these kids don't have a mother or father.
Some of the children sit in the shade, but most are sitting in the field;
For them it's just another mundane day, till I walk over and kneel..

They are just starring at me, I wonder what they could be thinking;
"Who is this large, sweating, white man, with eyes that keep blinking?"
But soon my friendly smiles are returned, and the kids are drawing near;
Within minutes I'm a human jungle gym, and the children have no fears.

What happens next I'll never forget, if I live a hundred years;
Just the very thought of it, brings this grown man to tears.
One of the little climbers, gets real close to me and speaks;
"Are you my Daddy", he whispers, my knees instantly go weak.

A great well of emotion erupts, words still can not describe;
Feelings so overpowering, it was impossible for me to hide.
And one by one the children whispered, those same sad words to me;
Their little mouths would hug my ear, and say "Are you my Daddy?

*On the crossroads out of Kampala, Uganda

Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest Name: Heart And Soul 


Details | Narrative | |

Madness

Madness!
crazy
hollow
The concrete Brasilia're cracking.
rift
catches
two men in auto
which is now das auto
mule
no more
in slum
has foot pedestrian
manhole
and walking dead.
naked
the statue in the street
filth of powers
clumsy
arise in the mind doping
a minstrel
fallacy
of people to talk too much
as "much"
were Chinese
one fifth of the world's
people like us
to survive the madness
continue reading
without realizing
the time walks
and the distance
scroll through the Eye
eager to see what will give
romance
For Juliet had Romeo
but Romeo had no Juliet
at the end
So was Drama
that embarrassment
without conception
the candle flame
that does not fade
fools cry
the crazy laugh
of the plot
wolves howl
to the moon
and the crazy howl
to the moon
So crazy are wolves?
Or wolves are crazy?
The dichotomy arises
of chaos.
Because the crazy laugh
are so happy
If you cry,
lament
by able
boys time
or ladies of the inconsistency.
now we are
Das
Das auto
the dichotomy
between the plural the singular.
Or singular to the plurality.
the language
Das language
Deutsche: Der Deutsche.
Madness!
Am: Ich bin.


Details | Narrative | |

Don't Leave Me

I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died 
My heart will ache so much more 
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom 
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage  
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way


Details | Narrative | |

Puzzled Pieces

It was a dazzling day.
In the park where we gathered.
I watched the sprinkler spray.
Whilst Oleander got lathered.

A pierce of minty laughter.
Came from my mother.
The day, now full swelter.
Brought mephitic curses, from father.

My mother,
A piece, of distinct edges, shapes, and color.
My Father’s piece,
Gossamer... A ghost in the Parlor.

My aunt buzzes ‘round,
Looking to peck.
Her greatest skill,
Tearing wealth from flesh.

She is an ugly thing,
Constantly tithing kin.
Her tabs busted,
Only darkness within.

My uncle walks water,
Crying divine inspired droll.
Then he sees foreign breasts,
And his eyes start to roll.

He is piously loathsome,
A delusional winner.
His piece, contrasting color,
A chronic Casanova of a sinner.

My grandmother sits,
By a row of briar’s.
From here smelling sweet,
Closer and the peril gets dire.

She is a dandy,
Addicting to be around.
But when her corner piece shows,
It can cut to the ground.

My grandfather rests,
In the middle, on a bench.
The tether that keeps,
We are bolts, He is wrench.

His piece.....
To us much renowned.
His piece is the core,
It holds me around.

There it is, my family puzzle.
And on the fringes I sit.
See, I’m an edge piece,
That doesn’t quite fit.
With my teeth on a muzzle.

03/04/13







Details | Narrative | |

My Hidden Fear

People are my weakness and hidden fear
I just feel that some words they say set me in tear
For example I gave a person a smile one day and they gave me a glare
I did not know that smiling in the world today cause people to stare
These types of stare gave me chills down my spine a feeling that made me blind
Why? why is my weakness the people who are very unkind
Hiding is all I can do when people give me a unkind view
I get to a point that my fear seems to wonder and stew
People are who they are and what should I even do
I don't understand that they are evil and some times nice too
My hidden fear are people just because they are always around
That is no argument and my feeling are perfectly sound
The hate builds up in my mind, but does not bother, how my heart feel
I learned to undergo a change that my feelings become like steel
Hard as it should be in situations needed I forget how to use it
So it becomes my weapon and it is to some people heartless just a bit
My hidden fear is what I see in people today
They harm others and they think it is okay
That is why I fear my feelings for others at times because it is so confusing
My hidden fear is some what bad and some what a blessing


Details | Narrative | |

Who's There

In my room late at night i hear them
Voices telling me things I don't understand
I ask people around me what it means
I tell them what the voices say
They look at me like i am talking in a different language
When in all i am
I look in the mirror
I don't see myself
Instead I'm looking at someone i don't even know
She calls me the chosen one
She tells me my path is far from over
That there will many a sorrow in my path ahead
Then she leaves


Details | Narrative | |

A Soul Awakened

The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken


Details | Narrative | |

Stressed

I am very stressed today.
I sat at my desk today and kept thinking about all the things I need to do then made a list of 
them all. All day I spent the morning worrying about the things I needed to do and wondered 
how I was going to finish them all. So, I made a list of the steps for how I going to complete 
each thing I listed, then wondered how I was going to complete all those steps. Now, I'm 
putting all the steps in order so it makes sense and makes it easier to get all the things done 
that I need to do. I was surprised when I read the list I made and found that the one thing I 
wanted to do today was merely to finish something. But that one small task had twenty-
seven steps. Yes, it's been a VERY stressful day.


Details | Narrative | |

Our Energy Supply

Most of our energy supply,
depends on coal,
now it seems,
that's about to go.
Jobs will be lost, 
towns will fall,
unemployment will rise,
disturbing to all.
Now is the time,
we need the facts,
if we allow this,
we're really in a crack.


Details | Narrative | |

Eye ear you

All you imprisoned soldiers screaming for help/
All you sending empty promises to the veld/
Tears that are heartfelt/
Eye ear you/
All you who feel lyrical bullets shooting through your blood vessels/
You Infants drilling a hole through her womb to have a peek of life before that day/
Those climbing evil branches from the tree of life/
Eye ear you/
Those attacked in their own jungle/
Fought with no loud rumble/
Happiest souls eating from the bin like a couple/
Eye ear you/
I am back from my dead/
Spoke peace ate dreams wiped tears in my dead/
His poetic wings shadowed me fed me with my bread/
Eye ear you/
Here's a toast to my dad/
I am an angel i can speak with the dead/


Details | Narrative | |

Waves of Change

Waves of Change Changes in life descriptionalized In comparison to waves of the ocean Our bodies are made mostly of water A body of water with flowing emotions Now an ocean will flow peacefully Until there is a bit of turbulence Disrupting from a smooth flow With the up and down currents As we walk onto a new path A different kind of feeling steps in New ventures can be scary in thought Of what is left behind when we begin An air of difference can bring on a spin To a funnel effect as does a water spout Sometimes when in the spin motion cycle We are shaded by clouds and cannot see out When actually caught within the spin We do not see the change is there Our sense of direction is lost We become totally unaware If you are the one caught Within that fast paced spin You will not be able to see The shape you are really in That’s the time we need someone To give us a tap on the shoulder It’s not a matter of who knows more Or which one of the other is older You’ll need a friend like Dory was Saying to just keep swimming the sea To never give up your hopes and dreams As changes in life really just happen to be Florence McMillian (Flo)


Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


Details | Narrative | |

A Tangled Web

Nearly empty inside, my life fading fast,which direction should I take.  Starring blankly at the T in the road, an important decision I need to make.

Sinking fast in an empty sea, scrambling to stay alive.  Struggling just to stay a float, loosing the will I need to survive.

Paralyzed in fear, afraid of moving ahead, leading a life of disappointments and defeat.  Locked down in chains, nowhere to go, caught in a tangled wed of deceit.

With a soul that's damaged beyond repair, displaying every intimate and personal detail.  There's humiliation learking around every corner I take, highlighting every moment I have failed.

Drowning under piles of secrets and lies, slowly suffocating with every breath I take.  Trapped behind the burning flames of hell, it's a gamble with my life as the stakes.

All of my stability and security stripped down, exposing every secret I tried to hide.  Running now on auto pilot, defensive mode my emotions I'll keep buried deep inside.

Where do I go from here, the damage can't be erased.  Reality sets in a little to hard, when it smacked me suddenly in the face.


Details | Narrative | |

Divinity

Finally..Mr.Whitman, I understand as my journey is symbolic to yours; but, through my poverty-strickened doors. Fighting your human instincts... while learning your internal glow within. Frightening, enlightening, inviting his omnipresence in and as your reward he transforms you into him. Breathing your FIRST breath again. Loving life from the core of the earth to the pull of the moon. Stuck in the middle yet understanding all of the connectivity; because I'm living in a state of Divinity.


Details | Narrative | |

My magic Flute

My magic Flute


My first and only instrument I received as a little girl was
a Flute.

My mom’s old boyfriend had gotten me a Flute and after they broke up I don’t recall what happened to my magic Flute.

A few years later I had music class my Freshman year in high school and we all got black plastic Flutes and we were supposed to learn how to play the Flute.

As an adult and a lover of good music I wish I had learned to play the Flute. I’d play on the sidewalks of city streets collecting money to pay for my children’s education and to pay the bills.


Details | Narrative | |

VIOLATED

 HELP! HELP!
 She is sinking,
 Sinking into the abyss of despair.
 Her brain is striken And her mind is stifled.
 She has been enervated.
 Her integrity is being manipulated,
 Irrationality acts as spring board to moral decadence,
 Opacity then entangles her efficiency
 While her eminence sleeps.
 She became vulnerable.
 Poor thing, she is raped, maimed and looted.
 Has she not been violated?
 Does her plight warrants a revolution?
 However, she demonstrated.
 She shrilled,
"No!", "No!"
 She pleaded with her predators.
 All these were to no avail
 Her future seems gloomy
 As the predators succeeded in orchestrating yet another tragedy.
 Engulfed in this evident realm of adversity.
 She sits and ponders
 With tears flooding her miserable cheeks.
 She then cried,
 HELP! HELP!
 I am sinking,
 Sinking into the abyss of despair.


Details | Narrative | |

Lost in Confusion

Lost in confusion


A scar time will never heal,
A scar dangling in the hands of fate,
Take a glance at all four corners of the earth,
Some are filled with boundless joy at someone’s birth,
Yet some are grieving over someone’s death,
Some are drowning in the murky waters of starvation,
Yet some are winning and dinning in ululation,
I am lost in confusion.

Few woke up to a fancy bubble bath,
Millions to a bath at a local river,
Some countries are in the middle of bloody wars,
Whilst some are concluding peace treaties,
Some lovers are making up.
Yet some are breaking up,
Someone is trapped in the misery of tribulation,
Someone in the loneliness of isolation,
Yet someone is hogging the limelight
Cloistered in the world of fame

Some people are harmful, some helpful,
Some chose the ballot, some the bullet,
People love without reason, without reason they hate,
The heart that hurts beats the scar,
The scar of the mystery of life
The secret is to persevere,
To be better today than you were yesterday,
It’s better to die great than live grieving,
So I’ve been told and so I believe.


Details | Narrative | |

Reminiscence

Prologue:
For whoever think story telling is that easy,
Would properly from this hilarious incident,
scene or whatever you might call it, would know is not.

                             *****************

Just some couple of months ago, I was invited
by a friend who knows me too well, back then in 
school as a funny guy and story teller and so he taught this
night, that his grand pa (who is a famous story teller 
of his village) had fall sick, I would be in a better position
to cover up for his father's so called responsibility
to his people. "For he (my friend's father, Williams) is a good story teller.
But what about me who has never faced 
the ample crowd with my 'cripple' tale unless sharing it with friends?" I mumbled.

In the middle of this enigma, my friend, John called me to the hot seat
to tell my tale to the unbearable crowd of adolescence. 

"God why am I here this day... But it shouldn't have been this day" I retorted.
The barbarian noise from the seats infront of me showed that truly I was 
in the middle of something and not lost...

"Uncle tell us a story!... Brother tell us a story!" the crowd shouted.

This day, I needed a free moment but they couldn't let me be.
"Once upon a time" they heard me said and they all resited.
" I am sorry, I am sorry let me restart it all over again".

Now in old man's voice, I told my tale before them:

"Once upon a time,
In our mothers' womb, when she
Ate, we ate. Goodnight!"

They all cannot but burst to laughter while I stood and walked to the room with my 
shame.
                                   
                                *****************

Anything after good night means nothing more till the next day.
Maybe I escaped the night by dissatisfying the emotions of those children,
in that scene, what about my friend? 
"Have I not brought shame to John's family? Did I do the 
right thing that full moon night?". My heart beats!

                               *****************

Epilogue:
Not even do the audience remember or care to ask me: (In kid's voice)
"What if my mother do not eat while in my pregnancy, what will happen to her?" or 
probably care to tell me: (Back to old man's voice) "What lesson they have derived from 
the tale before their departure... Oh! No sorry, my bashful departure from their sight." 

Note: The tale: "Once upon....Goodnight!" is a Haiku form of poetry.  
 














Details | Narrative | |

Physically and Mentally Abuse

I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear

Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm

When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane

I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes

I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries

I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs

As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call

With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay



Details | Narrative | |

Well Said My Poetically Challenged Friend

Well said, my poetically challenged friend... 

Your insight is deep and telling of your sage, 
Even if I can not understand your poetic wage, 

Tell us more of your triumphs and travels, 
And don't leave out the blotter and gavels, 

For it is your frailty which entices, 
The calling of the soul, 
And unlocking of the mind... 

For when we read of your glorious battle, 
And become the fodder of which you prattle, 

Remember that these are the days, 
We relished the great dreams you gave, 

Soon you will be left to your own devices, 
Karma so apropos, 
Balancing over time... 

Then with great pride I will be able to say, 
That I once met a poet untamed,

A free verse poet like you who has belched, 
With nonconforming musings, true and heartfelt, 

Oh what great cost the poets price is, 
Always watching yet always alone, 
All to capture truth sublime, 

Again well said, my poetically challenged friend!


Details | Narrative | |

Mourning Over The Locust Plaque

Some sounds like the noise of bees
Hovering around the atmosphere
Or like rain drops on our roof tops,
I opened my round window
The window of my hut,
I wanted to know
Why my sleep won't mellow,
All i saw was sorrow
As the atmosphere turned green.
The cassava farm was over shadowed
Banana plantation feebled,
Apple orchard struggled
Yet their efforts stifled,
Lemon grass for mama's herb withered,
Rose flower shattered and our 
Groundnut farm tattered.
Suddenly,the green army fled,
Tears exuded from my eyes
As i sputtered in pain,
Mother filled with melancholy,
Father tore his heart in grief
Villagers hope captured and crippled,
So their travail displayed as
Everyone mourned over 
The locust plaque.....



BY: CHARLES MELODY (LIGHTNING INK).   


Details | Narrative | |

Bloody Bloomin Rose's

Ah, the bloom was on the Rose
yet, the taint of alcohol and drugs
looms nightmare like behind her baby pink cheeks. 
Porcelain skin tones, raspberry rogue
nails to scratch and lift bits of dirty lucre.

She was clawing her way up,
and hopefully out, he hits her, “Slut,” he screams at her.
a sometime replacement sat beside him. 
His Chicano inner-city drawl hurt her ears 
and the fake diamonds studding them. 
The new girl beside him
giggles…

She’s due at work by nine,
grabbing a smooth wrap-top and a mock
grey skirt, she rushes from the room to the bank.
She can still see his long fingers playing in other girls cleavage.
Rose, well, Rose pays the rent. She strikes a teller’s pose 
behind the formica countertop...

Long days, counting other peoples money
kindness, and sweetness sucked from her
like a ripe plum on a summers day.
She needs work, more work.
I asked her to help in the garden.
Long blonde, buxom, bending over weeds,
only six months to go to graduation
an associate degree…

Rose chuckles, “Look who I’ve been associatin’ with?”
I eye the twenty-five thou lottery ticket in my jean pocket.
“You want to move here Rose?”
“What would they do without me?”
I sigh, thinking of her alcoholic mother
off bingeing and her “boy fiend”.

The lottery windfall went for Rose’s college tuition. 

The bloom is off the Rose now, 
two hundred plus pounds later
strung out beside her Mom on a ratty couch, 
she eyes the Diploma in it’s cheap black frame,
and rocks her baby girl
some things, never change….

*Names have been changed, and the amount given, but part
of the ending has truely come to pass already [sigh]. 
The rest is all true.  


Details | Narrative | |

And Sometimes Why

I hoped to be with you today 
That once again we two might play
True friends forever we will stay
One thing that will not go away
Why

A funny thing you’re asking me
For there is nothing wrong to see 
This time I thought it best to be
With friend awhile and live care free
Why

Again persistent question why
Pounds at my doors for its reply
No longer can my sighs deny
A friend who really needs to cry
Why

For breakfast Mama didn’t show
And where she went he didn’t know
He didn’t even see her go
What made my mother behave so
Why

I don’t know why I’m telling you
With all the pain that you’ve been through
We’ve always been like brothers true
There nothing that we two can do
Why


Details | Narrative | |

Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy


Details | Narrative | |

The Ferris Wheel and Being Bipolar

Riding so long, I feel nauseous
They won’t stop the Ferris wheel
My throat is dry and cracked from screaming
Stop!, Please Stop!
Up, up - ground shifting at dizzying heights
Down, down - crashing, stomach flopping
White knuckles from holding the grimy bar
Smell of metal and cooking meat all around
Creaking and moaning of hot gears and
Weight under tension
Unnerving canting and swaying of
A rickety car with black grease oozing from
Over-worked pivot points and hinges
Just another day at the carnival….
And being Bipolar.


Details | Narrative | |

Human Hyenas

From the time of creation
Adam was brainwashed into
 Believing that he was the brainiac
Behind the Garden of Eden fictions

 Women got tired of men carefree life styles
They laid back personality, they sanctions,
And Most of all they diminished sex drives
It’s too late now, it’s too late now 

Too many wrongs, not enough rights
This world belongs to everyone
Not only Your average Tom, Dick and Harry
Men and women have lost respect for each other.
It’s no longer a man’s world theatrical standards
It's more of a mad, mad world with so much mental attitudes
“I was on first; “I was here first kind of society 

Some of us are human hyenas that 
take advantage in human suffering
Not so hard to believe… but it is the truth.
however, it is so hard to swallow


Details | Narrative | |

Rememory

Maybe there's just one star in the sky.
Harbor it, keep it, you and I.
Our secret gem, our weekend retreat,
char on the path to which we sneak.

A day of rememory of the crisp night air.
12:10 in the woods; sweet speech in my ear.

Drissle turns to downpour which electrifies the dark.
A towel dabs a leak where the roof splits with bark.

I vaguely remember slipping into a taxi.
A light! Our star! Seen from the back seat.
Another! Two stars? And more, and more
lining the way to my front door.

Too many! That's enough!
They are burning my face! 
Oh no! Oh dear!
And it all went blank.


Details | Narrative | |

BEFORE LAST NIGHT

            
Before last night she was my dream come through,
Everyday my affection incessantly grew,
My heart and hers poised to glue,
When with her I forgot my crew.

Before last night I had only kissed her,
And goose bumps graced me body-over,
The sound in my brain was that of a classic Opera,
Life with her had promised no disaster.

Before Last night our love was in express motion,
My friends thought I had taken a love portion,
Fools! what did they know about my emotion?
For this lady, to the wind I had thrown caution.

Alas! Last night in entirety she gave me her body,
My love for her thereafter appears rusty,
I now see she is not too far from ugly,
And she is not the only woman that could make me happy.

I wonder how all can change in one night,
While her love for me looked to reignite,
Mine for her fell from a Skyrocket to a Kite,
This morning, I feel I was blind and just regained my sight.


Details | Narrative | |

Christmas Rebels (2).

But night’s bell came with tears and without love,
As our bamboo door talked,
“KNOCK! KNOCK!!”
Before my voice could speak,
Legs ruined down my door,
Then eyes in different heights
In the starry night like 
Torch lights… attacked 
Me with their voices.
They came in mass,
Some brandishing cutlass,
Some matchets, guns and arrows.
Gang upon gangs,
Displaying their flags,
Blood stained, tattered, hair, shaggy.
They held human heads for their 
Oracles of war.
They were muttering songs as if 
Forced to sing,
They had leaves and grasses in the 
Middle of their mouths, they were mostly teens, 
They were the Hausa rebels… 
“Wait! Wait!! Wait!!!
Where are the bells?
Is this day not Christmas?”
I was asking myself,
A short tick man came out of the mass,
Not looking like human,
He looked backed at the rest,
Feeling like the best.
He weakened my hear drums 
By the manner of his question,
“Hausa or Birom?”.
To send my religion to the bottom?
Whom for this day, is Christmas? 
And sweet Messiah’s Calvary at Golgotha?
I wasn’t prepared for that, 
So the truth came out like a blast
“Birom!!”.
“Yee! Yee!! Yee!!!
Enemy tribes” they shouted 
Like savage talking drums.

(To be continued in the next, same Poem).


Details | Narrative | |

The Rope Never Fully Loosened Up


Conversation with older folks always Makes us think about How complex we are When asked 80 to 90 percent of older people How are they doing? Most replies are the same “Child I am just waiting. Waiting! For what To meet my maker” From the time we were born Plans were made for us About our life What are you going to be? When we grow up And soon has one become an adult Our thoughts about dying Frighten us You are born then you die Life might be simple for some However, it a race to get over unfairness of life I met my third grade teacher last year The first thing she said to me “Did you follow your dreams? A moment in an instant world I felt like she were in control ^ She is much older now However, nothing has change We born, then we die No matter how hard we try The ropes never seem to loosen >/center>


Details | Narrative | |

Witnessed A Robbery



Witnessed a robbery take place yesterday As incredulous as this may seem Was sitting in the food court at the local mall Happily minding my own business When all of a sudden I hear this guy ranting and raving Slamming his leather bag down on one of the tables Marching over to the coffee stand Which had an assortment of sandwiches and drinks Displayed in front which were accessible to the customers Proceeds to pick up a sandwich and a bottle of juice And goes storming off into the mall concourse Without paying, yaking incoherently as he goes People just sat there dumbfounded Wondering what the hell just happened We all witnessed this act take place None of us reacted or believed what we just saw Now this was either a looney toons type guy Not responsible for his strange behaviour Or a very clever, creative crook Making us think he was looney toons Assuming the average person wouldn't react Enabling him to get away with this unimpeded He was later apprehended by mall security But we never did find out the whole story Hmmm! Pretty creative I must say If indeed it was a preconceived masterful plan © Jack Ellison 2014


Details | Narrative | |

Dream of Birds

Wakes up. Surrounded by no one. Cars are empty. Houses are empty. Bird(bat) poop plopped in the street. Don't know what's going on. Walk around. 2:10 
Find food. Store it. 3:15
Walk around some more. 3:46
Look at a house. Curtains close fast. Someone's there. Go to the house. Knock on the 
door. No answer. Hello? 4:52
Leave,a voice says. But I have nowhere to go. I don't care. Leave. 
Can you please let me in. 4:56
No! 
But ma'am I don't know what's going on. Can you tell me?
Get out of here!4:58
Looks down. Looks up. Ma'am please. 
Little girl I'm not gonna tell you one more time.Cocks rifle. 
Sighs.Turns around. 4:59 
transitions 5:00
Hears birds(bats) screech...


Details | Narrative | |

ENMESHED


A thick, white smog crept through the park that night,
that one color besides black.
Occasionally, street lamps would beam around like wheels
but the lights burned strangely dim.
 
"Let's shoot the breeze, " he said. And so she did, biding time ;
clinching from the gripped touch as he drew her in his arms
And a single lamplight  faintly lit the darkness. 

"I'll never make you cry again."His words, his gravel tone... 
Her hair flew with the dusky trail of bleak dusk
tangled as raven's wings hiding a face, wet with tears
as icy shiver trembled down the back of her spine. 

Lit smoke flickered before it sat to rest on his cigarette tip. 
"Will you quit stalling?" he raged. Words, words...cheap.
Her locked  heart did not respond till he reversed his track. 
"Don't you know, you are most attractive thing I ever had?", 
he gently cooed...Thing? An object. 

"I'll do as you wish,dearest," his hands stroking her arms...
No!..I want to feel the highest peak of love, she told herself
I want to taste the breath's spirit against my cheeks, 
feeling gentleness on my face; to land and melt on my nose 
as I look up to the sky. I want to jump into mighty waters 
and reach incredible depths of all that authentic love is.
 
She whispered, "It doesn't matter what I want?",
Her head stoops slightly forward, dazed eyes looking back 
at a yet evasive glance. Unemotional, stoic.
 
It's over. 
 
As if on cue, she rewinds the ambulance car that brought
her dead husband to the ER. She recalled how he relished
eveything that she was, the way she sang out of tune
and whistled out a sports cheer...
The heart-woman who cried at the opera 
and let loose to rock and roll,feeling  free twirling around
under the thunder and lightning of a spectacular downfall. 


This listless flesh was the one who ran barefoot with her
through fields at night, catching dragonflies and making 
wishes before returning them to flight.
 
And he is dead.
 
Twilight peeps now as she realizes a grim reality
walking with her head hung low and submitting
to all this man needed in a click of a finger...
An inner voice crawls, "What's the difference between
love and co-dependence? She doesn't speak, knowing
her final truth...
 
But, it's over. 

She drops on her knees rocking back and forth,
humming a lullabye.


---------

“ Many codependents, at some time in their lives, 
were true victims – of someone's abuse, neglect, abandonment... 
But “rescuing is not an act of love... we don't assume 
responsibility for our highest responsibility – ourselves."
~Melody Beattie, Author, 'Codependent No More'

Heather Ober's Moment of Truth Contest 
by nette onclaud
~based on relatioship issues from 
my counseling work


Details | Narrative | |

A missive from the damned to whoever have a little time to spend with this nonsense - Page 1

And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.

Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.

With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to  untouched places by men.

Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...


Details | Narrative | |

COBWEBS

Cobwebs The inner vision becomes blind When cobwebs clutter the mind With every thought of doubt A new thread weaves about You can no longer see The true sight of reality Your faith begins to slim You can only see the grim The self imposed web Deceives your life ahead You are in a tangled mess Full of weary with no rest The only way to get out Is to let go of the doubt Yes easier said than done Negative views hit everyone Be strong and take a stand Believe in the good at hand That God will see you through No matter what you have to do Take each step in life with ease As you live with inner peace Clear away the cobweb trend It will all work out in the end Florence McMillian (Flo)


Details | Narrative | |

Perfect Mask

I've gotta act it out
Like the perfect little girl
Everyone wants me to be

I've gotta act it out
Or I may loose my world
And everything in front of me

I've gotta act it out
Cause I can't afford a loss
Because I just barely have myself

I've gotta act it out
No matter what cost
There won't be any help

I've gotta act it out
Even if it hurts to smile
I just can't afford to miss a line

I've gotta act it out
Crying inside all the while
On the outside I look just fine

I've gotta act it out
Just like that perfect little girl
Everyone thinks I am going to be

I've gotta act it out
But then again this world
Maybe is not suitable to me


Details | Narrative | |

How Do I Stay Soulful

How do I stay soulful, without seeming like a raging goddess?
I would always be the raging sea,
Don’t sail your boats or ships upon my waters!
 Expected to be slaughters, by my sharks
 The rough waves: and the haunted ghost slaves.
 You toss abroad, unlike the garage you scattered on my shore,
I kept your secrets; at the bottom of ocean floor

I sting your eyes, and bitter your taste:
 Rock your ships from side to side
Yet, you smuggle my fish out to land: 
    what a disgrace!
A man would always be a man

 Why did you leave the dry land and sail the ocean blue
You pirate! You luxury ocean liners: you liars
Can you hold on to my waters? 
The laughter takes hold of you.
I filled myself with rage, because of the things you do

No safety nets……

, 


Details | Narrative | |

Poet In Exile

We live are words and if not were just typing.
Ive come to a crossroads understanding little or nothing of the game 
but knowing my place has been taken.

No longer in demand I sit with the other burnt out writers looking
back with grand dellusion and litlle hope for my return.
The dark waters of a uncertain tommorow overshadow the past glory
and future failures of my existance.

The last round poured the new gaurd will be here tommorow.
And as you pass the ones toblind to see as you've become to
jaded to feel you realize.

To live the words failure is a must for no agnst is true without 
a glimmer of hope. 
I stay ahead of the verse like a pool waiting for the tide.

Now in a place once called home I find strangers in old faces
shadows cast dark figures in alleys all lost for the better day.

But im no judge just a exile forced to carve a nitch 
outta his  same old space.
To tired to care yet still to ego ridden to leave.

Im a exile to friends who live next door.
They hammer the walls  laughter takes there nights.
Im locked in  only with memories to recall.

The smoke trails across the empty room of my mind.
Like some old stories ghost I merely haunt this worn down shell.


Details | Narrative | |

The Perverted Ghost

There was a ghost in my house so I killed him.
Well, he wasn’t really a ghost then, but he is now
because I shot him and killed him deader than a hammer.
I had left my back door unlocked and this fellow snuck right on in,
unseen by me at all until I caught him pissing in the kitchen sink.
Come to find out he was old Jamie “Perv” Perkins
from around the corner down yonder.
Seems he was sneaking around trying to catch my niece
when she was naked. Only problem was, she wasn’t here.
She only comes and visits me during the holidays
and even then she doesn’t spend any nights here.
She’s my brother’s only child, besides I don’t know why old “Perv”
would want to see Emily Amelia naked, she ain’t really all that pretty,
she takes after my brother Abner and he’s downright ugly.
Now, if she had taken after me she would have been born pretty,
but she couldn’t have taken after me because I never had sex with her mama.
I would have if I could have, but she ran off with that truck driver fellow
before I even thought about doing the nasty with her.
When she left she broke Abner’s heart, but he got over it and became a drunk.
Now there is a sure enough ghost in the neighborhood,
I should dang well know because I was the one who made him a ghost
with my old over and under shotgun, it’s a classic beauty.
I’ve had it for going on eleven years now. Old “Perv” doesn’t haunt my house though,
he moved in with Abigail Bailey who lives two houses down from me.
Abigail ain’t all that pretty either, but she’s got big boobs and a right good sized butt.


Details | Narrative | |

What's to Come

The moment has come,
although the deadline is not near.

I approach my decision with haste
and rational thinking.

There is not much left for me to do,
except wait.

Keeping emotions sidelined,
as it should be.

Not allowing "what ifs" or
"if onlys" play in my head.

Being logical and seeing 
things for what they are.

No longer ignoring what I turned
my head from knowing
what I did.

I can only hope she see it
as I do.

I pray that she sees where I am
and knows what is coming.



Details | Narrative | |

The meaning of destruction.

Its cold, clouds grey, no sun to guide me,
hands search for the missing eye that has long since past.
I hear them bicker and curse, do you know what they are?
Slimy slurping dripping muck, the snow has gone, but left my
world with black soot earth.
These creatures seem to thrive on it, thrive on my shallow pit
of existence.
I gather myself, I crack my knees as I bend to pick a limb,
what should go first? Of course my feet to carry me.
With such effort for a pointless quest I begin to think that
there is nothing but death scraping at my neck, hinting at
my demise.
Ages since my trumpets call, they call me home from a 
nightmare of cry's and vomit.
My mind begins to flash with imagery beyond comparison,
a child I see inside my heart, is naked, blind, sick and pale,
OH GOD!! Where is the source for this madness.
I have gathered my pieces and attempt to walk, but see
that I have gathered more than my own share of flesh, there
are those that belong to men,the men thats beneath the soil,
the creatures are red inside my nails.
My color is that of a ruby stone, as cold as one and as hard 
no doubt.
CRACK! BANG! Lighting and sound rip through the sky, this sound
is not of guns or drums.
The dark sky is fat with victory, it spues out its fill upon me, it washes
my world around me only to reveal my horror.
My comrade, my friends, my enemy's and alas, the child of whom gave 
such sadness.
Did I die too? Looking at my broken self, was I tricked to war, yes, this was it,
the price to pay, to pay the earth for its company, it seems we were guests that
outstayed our welcome.
Ha! If we were ever welcomed, I don't think invasion is the same.

So clear now, the rain making sense of it all.
My knees don't crack as I begin to fall.
Cant you see me?I have been killed.
So you can keep your stomach tanks filled.
Thank you all, your prayers are gone.
To feed the horde there victory's won.

Is the memory gone from them?
The world is sane but our race is thin.
Is this world so leaderless? 
Mankind is lone, the world is fearless.
Must we die before they see?
No, die but twice before you free.

Do you have the answer?
With blood in hand and gun in holster?
No one has the meaning or an answer to a thing.
Just that they are happy with there life they have to bring.


Details | Narrative | |

9-11: Never Forgotten

My friend Justin and I want to dedicate this poem to everyone in America and those from other countries who have died, and also to those that lost their loved ones on this most atrocious day 11 years ago.

-------------------------------------------

In the busy streets of New York City,
Many a passerby made their way to work
It was a typical work day—or so they thought
It was an unexpected day when a great tragedy would strike
Two of the city’s greatest towers would fall in humility
And along with them many wonderful families
Even others from different countries would lose a loved one
In just a matter of minutes, all of what was that typical work day
Became a nightmare—a terrorist’s delight

Everything in chaos and confusion
Cries all through the day and night
Many called their loved ones if they survived that long
Many panicked, but some were dead calm
Knowing there was no way out
They poured their hearts out on that last telephone call, their legacy born
The attackers thought they broke us!
But they failed—we didn’t break at all
Instead they brought us closer as a nation
And the people who lost their lives are with us always
Never forgotten in our minds and in our hearts


Details | Narrative | |

Karma

Sometimes you gotta get lost to find the emptyness of the true soul.
Bury thoose memories  to unearth old truths.
Cut the ties only to return to thoose past relations.

Ive seen the streets erase the picture only to relive the past.
Living ghosts a backdrop eternal.
I cant question thoose night's regrets like a blanket keep me warm 
on a  humid night.
When all is wrong why cant anything be right.

I'd never  curse you utter truths into your lies.
Tainted encounters in many ever changing rooms.
Neon lit dream's  sunset of my mind salt water taste the 
bitterness we love.

The mountain's veiw is empty and cold.
Have we lost the the spark.
Iced over thoughts leave only shallow promises 
to hold.

So I'll push you away only to hold the memory dear.
A coward  to live in the pressent.
A living ghost of the man  who once stood here.

I've lost track gone so far from all that ive known.
Sparks in the darkness.
Only illusion  paint's the reallity sanity grace me life 
once more.
I question has it vanished with my time?


Details | Narrative | |

Ad Infinitum

Little Bro drank some booze
and danced a little jig.

Little Bro smoked some marijuana
and danced the boogaloo.

Little Bro snorted some coke
and danced the light fandango.

Little Bro injected some heroin
and danced the night away.

Little Bro ingested some crystal meth
and danced joyfully into oblivion.

Little Bro was buried in the paupers cemetery
and the devil danced on his grave.

Saucy Miss drank some booze
and danced ad infinitum.


Details | Narrative | |

How Cold Is A Heart

How cold is a heart,
that sees no light,
continuing the battle,
mistaking wrong for right.

How blind are the eyes,
that refuse to see,
kindness offered,
always within reach.

How sad are the days,
to be spent alone,
as if there is no conscience,
and no kindness is shown.

A rebel of sort,
clinging to a ghost within,
unable to recognize,
enemy from friend.

How cold is a heart,
that chooses to be alone,
forgetting the importance,
time is moving on.


Details | Narrative | |

Stage Fright or Stage Might

Sitting on stage
The glare of the audience immobilizes my every move
Is there a way this paralysis will soothe?
The lights suddenly blare
Like a deer bathed in headlights
How can I escape from this radiant bear?

The conductor baton rises into the soundless air
Sweating, stammering, shivering
Will this be my final prayer?

The sound of an A fires from a clarinet
Bow on string, I imitate the shrill
This magical note seems to be my fever pill

A-D, D-G, A-E
Instrument seems in tune
But will this miniscule fact solve my problem soon?

As the chief baton swings side to side
Flickering images in my mind crash like a tsunami tide
Joy, Love, Hardship, and Harmony
Music conducted the opening to my passion ceremony

Fire ignites my being
Like bungee-jumping off a bridge
The words “Anything is possible!” now beaming

Like poetry, music is an art
Raw emotion strangles uniformity
Expression bears no limit
Creativity beats as our vital body part

*This poem is dedicated to a cure for stage fright (bless those poor souls)
-M&M


Details | Narrative | |

He'd Just Discovered Suspenders

No job 
No prospects
No optimism 
It took all his energy
Just to fake a smile 
Health eroding 
At the speed of light 
His world grew smaller by the 
second 
Former small pleasures 
Transformed into ambivalence 
Blank and numb 
He walked blindly 
There were no solutions 
To any of his problems 
And then one day 
Out of the clear blue sky 
He smiled without effort 
I even caught a glimmer 
Of a spark in his eye 
Life became a little more 
pleasant 
We all cheered him on silently 
Me his number one fan.

As his confidence had 
diminished 
His gut had grown larger 
He wore his belt below it 
But his pants always slid down 
Far enough to annoy him 
Another problem 
With no solution 
One day, after months 
With the spark in his eye 
He chose to die 
It was a shock because 
He'd just discovered 
suspenders.


Details | Narrative | |

Chance

Chance

By BJ Welsh

With life and living we take our chance
Nodding in agreement to a furtive glance
Waking up each day is a chance we take
That life will deliver us for Heaven’s sake
We awake each sunrise with a hope reborn
Chance seeing an other suffer and torn

It’s one other’s life you see at a glance
Hoping for approval, it’s but a chance
The life you witness as others pass
The pain inside may subside, alas
Hoping to see one as you
The chance you take to find two

Running out of time the clock is ticking
Chance there are others whose lives aren’t clicking
Great as that may be, the chance you’re all alone rises
Furtive glances from beneath disguises
Chance that hiding the pain and hurt won’t last
The agony you feel will not be fast

Chance you soon become discovered
In your waking hours its’ uncovered
You’ve lived a life of hurt and pain
 The chance you’ve taken may have been in vain 




Details | Narrative | |

A letter of understanding

A letter of Understanding

A memo from my boss
Just days gone by, it read
I ask, understand, the economy is under
I got to cut a piece from your pay
Understand

Then a letter from the landlord
Undersigned by the lawyer
Understand, it starts
The market is under
I got to raise the rent
Understand

The electric bill is funny
But the water bill is funnier
The both blame the rain that takes long to come
And when it comes it’s too much to bear
So understand the slight change for now
Understand

Not that the fare was fair
I fear there’s something to understand
It is fueled by fuel 
So, just a little more is fair
Understand

My house help
Has looked at me
She is wondering if I really understand
Where she stands
 I understand, the economy stinks

Now in my hands’ a letter today
From my baby’s school, another from the Nanny Nursing home
Will my child understand why I don’t want to open the letters?
And my pregnant wife
Will she understand why I want her to delay the pangs?
Or will I understand


Details | Narrative | |

SOUNDS

                 




              Morning came as whispers in my ear slowly says echoing I love you
  The embrace and let go of the warmth of the sun and sheet move it was a cue
         The voice echoing that whispers in my ears again says do you hear that?
                 The gurgle of the coffee, and the smell of caffeine in the air sat
             A determine voice still echoing says it is time for you to get up my love
                         As I open my eyes I look outside as I see one dove 
              Cooing me, and it's bright white feathers has gotten my attention
     As I looked around my dream of my love disappears as it put me into depression
                  A sadness crackled into my heart, and a discerning look came to
            I wake up every morning hearing her voice in the summer morning dew


Details | Narrative | |

A missive from the damned to whoever have a little time to spend with this nonsense - Page 2

But now, I wonder "Will I have the bravery to follow?"
Demise shall follow if I am to attain redemption and cleanness of my sins that tarnish my soul.
Sometimes, I cling to yes, sometimes I cling to no.
When the dark clouds blur my sight, I ask myself "What is worth living for?", some believe in god, some in money or in even a more mundane wish.
I lack this one thing, I lack the purpose that would impulse me forward. But then, I speculate "For me, must be love", but what is love? I do not know, I am an strange to it, perhaps this wasn't reserved for everyone.

Well, one thing is right, my passing will not be mourned nor missed. It will go like the wind, now here then gone and noone noticed a thing.
Many leaves were shaken, many tears soiled the ground, yet, none of this was spotted by anyone.

To the people I did wrong "I am sorry, please, do forgive me".
To the people that hates me, hate me more, be genuine with it and be the fuel of this endeavor. Hurt me more, make me bleed, cut open my flesh, as he once did when I was an infant, paint the wall with my crimson tint...
Make me regret to have been born, actually, this will require little effort, since I already regret that.
My mind is set, termination is the way to go if I desire to do something good, at least once, in this life.
No hope can be spied nor a glimmering light to lead this one to safety.

In a colorless world, only with shades of black and gray, thoughts of demise haunts me day after day.
I see the people around me, at work, on the the streets, everywhere and I cannot help but to feel disgusted and out of place and helpless.
I am tired of pretending, behind my mask, I weep, behind their masks, they laugh at me.
I am tired of being fed by deceiving tales and to feed other with my lies.
The lies... It is everywhere, one must tread lightly between them, or else will fall their prey.


Details | Narrative | |

The Stump Mystery

Early this morning, at around about four forty five, five o’clock;
I heard somebody knocking on my front door.
I reluctantly forced myself to get up, fussing and cussing
all the time and went to see who the darn fool was.
There stood one of my neighbors, Lonnie Ray Crawford.
So I said: “Lonnie Ray, what the hell are you knocking
on the hot dang door for at this time of the morning?”
He said to me: “Hey there Butterbean,”
(most all of my friends and neighbors call me Butterbean)
 “there’s a big ass tree stump in your front yard.”
I stepped outside and looked and sure enough,
there it was, bigger than Dallas. So I asked old Lonnie Ray:
“Where in the dadgum doggone hell did the tree go?”
Neither one of us could figure that one out, so we drank some beer.
There hadn’t been a tornado or nothing like that last night,
that either one of us had read or heard about,
so we mulled the situation over and drank some more beer.
About seven thirty Lonnie Ray said he had to leave to go to work,
so he got up awkwardly and staggered out the front door.
The point being, if anyone finds a big old hickory nut tree in their yard
that doesn’t belong to them, it’s more than likely mine.
I surely would like for you to return it, if you please.


Details | Narrative | |

Is it a crime to dream?

Innocent childhood dreams
Full of lollipops and ice cream
Pretending to be a princess bride
Maintaining dignity and pride

Innocent childhood dreams
No longer filled with candy and flavors of ice cream
Slowly you begin to see
The triumphs and tragedies that are meant to be

Innocent childhood dreams
Replaced with ones that make me want to scream
My once protected heart
Now easily torn apart

A heart filled with passion, love and hate
Often questioning fate
So I can’t help but ponder this 
Is it such a crime to wish…
To wish I could go back in time? 


Details | Narrative | |

'Million Miles Away'



I haven’t felt like this before, Wishing I could go back, To that place where I didn't yearn for you Where all I felt was my heartbeat now all I feel is you and what I’ve become since you became a part of me – a part of my life You hastily left, With no reason why, Just a note to say I have to go You hastily left, With everything that made sense Yesterday seems like a million miles away
060320122003


Details | Narrative | |

My Return

This dreary place seems so familiar
and missed to a degree.

The place where I can hide my face from
the rest of the world.

Where I can be myself
and not care how people
think of me.

Not having to live 
by others expectations of me.

Yet my life is questioned
and possibly considered
mediocre at best.

Who accepts mediocrity?

I think it is best I stay here,
far from the outside world.

It is time for my return,
to my castle.  
 


Details | Narrative | |

Blame The Devil

Blame the devil for the 298 murders:
those poor lost souls who were aboard
flight MH17 in the clear blue skies
far above the nation of the Ukraine.
The evil old serpent we call Satan
has taken human form and calls himself
Vladimir “Vlad The Mad Cad” Putin.
He is the same soulless stone-hearted beast
he always has been but is far uglier than
anyone could have ever imagined even in
the most nightmarish dreams of our youth.
The devil indeed lives among us and he is
out for more blood, including yours and mine.


Details | Narrative | |

A Viking Warrior pt. 1

In the grand days of old let the truth be told/

Those ships and mate's in plight,

With ancient fool's who had launched in an all night battle !

The one who stayed alone and quiet would lose/

A much happy time of old !

Mediocre drawn beers as an angry mob grew bolder !

For the little troll would oft' loosen his undergarments ?

Ready for a fight/

Along came a black knight !

The little troll found himself a bit helpless among the resistance,

In the distance a land far to quaint in which to behold,

Try to filter out the sorrowful resistance/

A castle promptly built for the proud and noble !

What was once thrown down into the rubble,

Yet still my heart beats a bit frantic now ?

Torn in the midst of breathless moments/

We suddenly captured a sweet glimpse of heaven,

But then to suddenly leave again !

With fallen trees of fern and elm,

Then suddenly the sword pulled out of the lasting storm !

With gentle onlooker's to approach,

A vining warrior with hidden spear inside,

Traveler's visiting from the East would often run away and hide ?

Yet what had hit me from my blind side ?

Was it the heavy notion of a wizard living inside ?

A darkened portal that had come to light !

With a famed court prince on some winged plight/

Along comes a big dragon with a focused intent,

Outside a winged servant was inclined to viscously launch out into the night/

To enlarge his welcoming with some frantic fright !

Amidst the hidden turmoil of the given plight/

With the great task in which to make all things right !


Details | Narrative | |

6-11

6 a.m

It is time to wake- 
After being bludgeoned by sleep.
A quick brush 
And a quick wash
Off to the bus-stop in a quick rush.

It’s another day 
To work for a pay
Loose soap lather-
Sticking senselessly by the tip of the ear
And white Vaseline still to sink in the hair.

This life is a rush
Get late and get fired
No one cares if you are tired
Or couldn’t spare the time for a notch.

Brown suit,
Black trouser
Loosened zipper
Man! You are a walking sleeper.

We all filed-up
Looking like men heading for the concentration camp,
Yawning helplessly from an unfinished sleep.
This city life,
Is just a life of strife.

We hop on the bus,
So eager to seek solace in its confines.
Heads hanging loosely,
Snoring trumpets at its crescendo.


11 p.m

Free from the day’s toil
But held captive by Lagos traffic.
Sweating and panting from heat,
Squeezed like a crumpled note at the back seat.

Dinner on third-mainland Bridge,
A stick of gala and Asala*
With a bottle of water to quench the hunger.
 
It’s business time for the street urchins
From Iyana-oworo to the bridge that links Alapere,
They disguise as beggars-
Or hide in the shade of dark like scavengers
Watching out for victims to prey on.

The day weans itself away;
Broken down vehicles,
Long tankers stealing the lanes,
Pedestrians ignoring the bridge,
Hawkers shouting their wares,
Tanker horns blaring like hooting train.
 
Six to Eleven of our lives
Stolen by the struggle to survive.
Office pressure and less leisure,
Street madness and no cure.
Traffic Thieves,
Problematic Passengers,
Howling Hawkers,
And Lazy-ing LASMA**
All add to this insanity.




* A Yoruba dialect for Walnut 
** LASMA reference to Traffic Officials of Lagos State


© Ayinla Muyideen Adeleke


Details | Narrative | |

Boggled Down

Boggled down and dragging behind,
maybe I'm carrying around to much weight.
I would never ask but I am really in need of a helping hand,
vulnerable and helpless, two emotions I really hate.

My brain is always running in overdrive,
it's hard for me to keep things straight.
I can't concentrate and I lack the ability to stay focused,
I have a lot stacked up on my plate.

The pile just keeps getting bigger,
a little more and more each day.
As each day passes  it's all getting harder to hide,
I might as well place all of my business out on display.

Each morning when I wake up and every night before bed,
I ask the Lord above to grant me one prayer request.
Take away this mental madness, I don't want it anymore,
so I finally can put my mind to rest.

I don't understand why me, 
why did I get saddled with this horrible disease.
After talking with the Lord it was because I was strong enough,
to be able to handle whatever it turned out to be.


Details | Narrative | |

Your Angel

I am your angel, daddy's little girl.
I know I haven't been my best in cold, shallow world.
But I listen to you most of the time, your lessons and such; and when I don't listen, I suffer 
very much.
You don't give me signs when I'm going the right way.
So How can I make you proud of me?
I know I've done so wrong by not just following you; suffering pointlessly.
Either way I love you Father, with my everything.
I am your angel, will I ever earn my wings.

written in 2005


Details | Narrative | |

The Inn

Sshh…
I can see it
Creeping behind the wounded paper
Fabricated in the surface of the wall
The wall. Yes the wall.
Countless stains embedded
Thousand images magnified during midnights
Raindrop stains transformed into wars
Inkblots turned into murder scenes
A dot of blood resurrected into a horrible monster
And the monster lives in the wall.
Now it’s peeking
Its mocking eyes met mine
Staring at me as if I have murdered millions
I suddenly felt numb
Yet I desired to crush it till it turns to a single dust.
I stepped closer
My body trembled
It didn’t move neither did it show an act of resistance
But instead, its red eyes glowed
And opened wider and bigger.
I closed my eyes hoping it would vanish.
I reached for a hanging portion of the torn wallpaper,
I tore it forcefully—
Mirror!





(an entrant in to the Luzon-Wide Press Conference back when I was in college, adjudged 6th Place)


Details | Narrative | |

The Song

It's confusing, the way the song is made.
It can tell so much
With so little use of words.
When I hear these words,
They so much as motivate me more than I think they should.


I begin to play the song over and over, and several times again.
The words mesmerizing my being, clinging to my mind.
But then I catch myself singing the words,
Serenading a crowd of no one
For I had always like the feeling of loneliness. 

I try to stop myself
But the words flow from my lips like liquid.
I know just what I am saying, but the meaning is lost to me.
Such a beautiful noise I was creating.
But dumbfounded I was..

When the song comes to an end
And the lyrics came no more.
I close my eyes
And start to think to myself,
It's confusing, the way the song is made.


Details | Narrative | |

Up Late

-Inspired by my temporary English instructor, Mr. Phinizy <3
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Evening had diminished to night; how very quickly did She fly It is funny how quickly time passes, as if our brains tweak the clocks of life The night was of moderate warmth, and my house suffered terribly still And with the stifling heat inside, many hot questions filtered through my mind I asked myself, Where did the summer go? Why must our suns die? Why is it sweltering in September? Why has sudden anger blown her aside? I really need some sleep, thought I, looking at my face through the murky glass Tracing dark circles under my eyes, I was reminded of sagging Death longing to ensnare me Yes, Death followed me that night, dwelling upon me, boiling away the autumn breeze As I looked into my sleep-deprived eyes, I knew Death waited for my ultimate slumber, When all commemoration of time, that flew so rapidly before, suddenly just…stops. With many a sigh, I turned on the faucet, soaking my hands in the cool, flowing water I needed some relief from the heat…I needed a refreshing new idea, I needed cleansing Anything to clear my mind of the negativity daring to break me every day of my life For such depressing thoughts spewed forth like a wild river, the rapids racking my brain But these waters were not living; they were dead and hot like blue blazes of hell I turned off the faucet, for there was no Balm on this earth to sooth this soul There was no clock on this earth tweaked enough to return me to earth The warm breezes, the sickly pale cast of many thoughts had driven Her away And though the everlasting sleep of Death sounded soothing, the Balm does not assuage me… It only burns forever, in obstinate constancy; angered to the core, That night stuck in this fractured rhyme of time, I was up late…too late


Details | Narrative | |

Night Thoughts

I awoke this morning in a sheeted sweat,
from a dream I had last night.
A perfect world in a perfect way,
was traded as part of my life.

I sat there thinking for quite some time,
about the trade I'd made.
So would this time in my mind, 
do nothing more than fade; away.

In a hollow lump in the middle of my chest,
A warmth began to rise.
I cried out for mercy from the one above,
my brain wants me to compromise.

A life time I've wondered just why it is,
my brain and heart can't meet.
A penny for my thoughts, is about all it's worth,
but even a penny is now obsolete.

So back into my sweaty sheets I crawl,
to try and sleep once more.
As the clouded thoughts of my brain and heart,
bring about again this conflicted storm.

So can there really be any measure in me,
as the wheels grind brain cells.
I guess I'll find out in the end,
while arriving at heaven;    or hell?


Details | Narrative | |

Picking up the broken pieces

Into this world
We all came
Naked we all were
Kicking and screaming
With no idea of our supposed duties
With no idea of the ways lives were lived

Somehow, somewhere
We all started
As a baby, learning we began
Smiling, crawling, standing, walking
And blowing it we discovered is'nt unusual
But a part of learning curve, it is

Appeal same to all
For no matter where one, at the moment is
Starting where one is, is the key
No matter how broken all might seems
Discouragement, depression, one must knock out
controlling one might not be able to, all that happens to one
But, one's reaction to shattering news can be

True it is
That by tough times, every person is affected
And learning we all should
Never to give up
Always sustaining and upholding one's hope
Always picking up the broken pieces of one's situation
Always marching on, making it happen

For problem never leaves one the way it finds one
Rather, tender or tough
It makes one
Better or bitter
Makes or breaks, it does
But, it all depends on your actions and reactions.


Details | Narrative | |

A River Runs Through It

In Isaiah 66:12 God is speaking about Israel in the last days, For thus saith the LORD, Behold, I will extend peace to her like a river.

A few thoughts about rivers:
They can bring life and fertility into an area.
They can be calm and peaceful.
They can be raging and destructive.
They can be deep or shallow.

Since God is speaking about being good to Israel, I think we can rule out the destructive characteristics.  

In younger days, we spent several vacations at a water-park where they had a water ride called, The Lazy River.   I really enjoyed floating down this quiet waterway on an inner tube.  It was really relaxing.

I believe this is what God has in mind for His chosen nation (and
His church as well).  A peace that flows deep and fertile, bringing 
life and joy to everything it touches.

Rev 22:1-2
(1)  And he shewed me a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb.
(2)  In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

Today there is a river of life called The Holy Spirit.  It is sent from
 the Father to bring peace, strength, encouragement and 
knowledge to the believer in Jesus Christ.  That, and much more, 
can be ours today if we simply yield to the grace of God in our 
lives.  God wants his children to be powerful and victorious in 
living for Him.   You really don’t think God wants you to live a 
wimpy spiritual life do you?    

Christ said He would send this Gift from His Father, another 
Comforter to live within us.  Surely you’re not going to 
refuse a Gift that has been promised to each of us?  We cannot 
live a strong Christian life without the indwelling power of the 
Holy Spirit.  We are saved totally by the grace of God, and filled 
with the fruits of the Spirit only as we yield to this Third Person 
of the Trinity.  He is the power of God living through us.

I’m very sorry, but you will never make it through your own 
efforts, so you may as well quit trying.  Every Christian 
needs to yield to the Holy Spirit – invite Him into our hearts to be 
our strength like a river; to be our knowledge beyond human 
intellect; to be our deep flowing energy beyond human 
endurance; to be our PEACE OF GOD.

And yes, we can have peace in the midst of this world’s chaos.  
It’s not gritting your teeth or making a determined effort, it’s 
simply yielding to God’s Gift and allowing Him to live through us.  
Not our will, but His will.  You can’t do that without supernatural 
help.

YOU NEED THE HOLY SPIRIT!  
GOD WANTS TO GIVE THIS GIFT TO YOU TODAY!

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
			Horatio G. Spafford©


Details | Narrative | |

The Doppelganger She

I was once seen on one’s graveyard
Strumming an old guitar with a beer in one hand
I asked, “What was I wearing?”
“A clown’s”, the woman said, “and a cross lay flat on your chest.”

On a clowny day a white-clothed cried
“I think I saw you next to the baby’s’s crib.”
“What was I wearing?" went in my head. 
“A priest’s,” she said, then a puppet clung in your neck.”

On a priesty day, “You were that man!”
Said she gasping while a run.
“You hung your head, Oh belfry man!”
Then bellowed she, “Oh belfry man!”

On a gaspy day, in a purring crowd I passed
A woman lay naked on a road’s side
Pieces that woman accused me of possessing
Cross, puppet, white long garments the dead's hand clasping!


© Glenn L. Sentes
Written for Matt Caliri's Contest DOPPELGANGER
July 5, 2011


Details | Narrative | |

The Darkest of Hearts

The Darkest of Hearts


And you are...
   yesterday's pleasantries
today's impurities
   tomorrow's solace

And you are...
  what you want the world to see
    strength,
      beauty,
         power,
            soul

And you are...
   a fallacy,
a union of falsehood and indignation,
   an ambassador of dereliction and delusion

And you are...
   what you want the world to see
       compassionate,
          protector,
             infallible
               worshipper and lover of the most high

And you are...
   one who defiles
the most sacred of trusts
   a destroyer of inner peace
mocking the purest of hearts

And you are...
   what you want the world to see
       champion of causes
           treasurer of grace
              master of the ethereal
                  enchanting and desirable

And you are...
    the angel of deceit
pretentious and poisonous
    inebriated in repugnance
disheveled and insignificant

And you are....
          


Details | Narrative | |

All About Her

I dont know much about her
but I heard she wasnt that talkative
She didnt like being alive
She was numb to all the pain she had to go through

I heard she didnt like anything that was green
She ate roman noodles everynight for supper
She always wore flannels and bellbottoms
Sometimes i seen her wear dresses and fancy tops
But lately shes been wearing band shirts

She wears converse shoes and uses an army bag for school
I know that she dosent like to communicate through talking... only through her peoms
or sometimes even her songs.

I see her drawing and painting all the time
She draws famous people
She would like to be famous and not so unknown
When she tries to speak to anyone they always walk away and leave her alone

When she gets home she goes upstairs to play her bass guitar
She hates chocolate cake but loves chocolate
Her family left her behind because she cant forget her past

Sometimes when shes alone she contemplates the meaning behind her life
Her favorite color is gray because her life is black and white
Everything she says is false according to the world

She is not so innocent
I understand that she dreams about the perfect life
When she opens her eyes they are pitch black

She is someone that is fake
She acts nothing like she should
She is very grungy and unclean

She knows of no safety
and of no time
Her life is smashed into pieces by the giant sun

She will always be a ghost
She knows of no god
She crawls around in the world of death
She remains forgotten


Details | Narrative | |

Don't Mean a Damn Thing

I must have been so naive.
Writing most of my other poems.

Not knowing what love was or is.
I still have no clue.

I guess I never really had it,
since apparently you can't lose it.

My poems and thoughts were 
written from watching and looking 
from afar.

Never having experience of my own.

Then I finally has that chance and felt it.
And then it was gone, vanished
without a trace.

Maybe I thought I knew what it was,
and yet I didn't even live up to 
my own words.

I read my forgotten pieces
from so long ago.

Apparently, so much
that they don't mean a damn 
thing to me.


Details | Narrative | |

Iris of Poetry

Introduction: We don't really think deep enough about "What A Poetry Actually Is", the
obvious question which we all know but don't think how to really elaborate on. We mostly
see the story, depth and the purpose it delivers. Well, here's one a little bit different
this time...



Poetry is the reflection of our lives like in the mirror,
It is something we can relate to and share.
It's our memories written in jumbled words,
It's like a song, with a meaning it holds.

A mere idea of our mystical lives,
Expressed in a way from deep inside
A way which only the heart can see,
A place where the eyes get cold-feet

The earnest truth and the sweetest lies,
It's all the irony that makes poetry so alive.


Details | Narrative | |

It's Time

It’s Time

By BJ Welsh


The sun shines brightly each morn’
Life goes on although the heart is torn
Only you wished for rain instead
Exposure to light is what you’ve dread
Breathing in life that you’ve been given
Spitting it back out to those who are livin’
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s only always silence at the door

The shades don’t work as you think they should
Sun rays seeping through as only mother nature could
What more could you do to keep things dark?
Close your eyes, go ahead, you’ve left your mark
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s surely silence at the door

The mind works in mysterious ways
Your paralyzed and in a daze
The things you lost have never been yours
Borrowed for a while, so take a pause
It’s time to repay that long ago debt
Promises made and you thought kept
You followed a map uncharted at best
A life re-invented and put through the test
It’s time, you thought, to worry no more
But there’s no more silence at the door







 


Details | Narrative | |

Another man's wife

Another man's wife

 Why would you want to take a wife of another?
 Destroy the world that they built and share together
 Whilst there is plenty of fish in the sea
 What would have possessed you Son? 
Explain to me i need to understand

 Stealing from a man's hand
 A treasure so protected.
 A dream he never wants to share with anyone
 Consciously taking away his pride
 Ripping him apart from his joy
 The love of his life
 Son! Make me understand because I don’t understand

 How you find the strength to convince another's better part to be yours is a mystery to me.
 Explain! Because this is a riddle
 I wish to understand
 What would have possessed you?

 Sit down son,
 Let’s have a talk
 Let’s share your hidden thoughts
 Make me understand
 Please do
 I want to know what drives you to the bed of married woman
 What spirit would have possessed you? You call that love?

 ls it love or a game of lust, filled with privileges and no responsibilities.
 Son! This game always ends with a knife at your throat
 Stay away

 
Written by Tawona Mzila Ranganawa


Details | Narrative | |

A Messanger From Hell

I am sitting in my light brown leather reclining chair
after a strenuous day at my office glad to be home
no more stress no wife just my dog Bandit at my side
I'm holding in my right hand  my favorite relaxing drink
a single malt scotch on cracked ice with a twist of lemon

as I was about  to close my eyes just a little past seven
counting the blessings in my life from heaven
then out of the unexpected blue everything changed
never I mean never to be the same again
or maybe I was just going insane

out of the corner of my right eye
what I saw oh God what I saw was something that really 
scared the hell out of me 
as the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up
and my flesh turned cold

a man dressed all in black and red
with a haunting evil look in his coal black eyes 
I believed he was from the dead
stepped right through a solid wall made of brick an stone
and stood there looking around the room

then looked right through me as though I wasn't there
my dog bandit backed up in fright and hid behind the chair
making noises like I never heard him make before
as my goose bumbled flesh turned cold as ice
I sat paralyzed could not move from my light brown leather reclining chair

then he smiled a shark like pointed toothy grin 
as he placed his gaze my way
and pointed a long gray boney finger right at me
the only sound that I could hear was the beating of my own heart
as though it was going to tare my chest apart

then he spoke in a low evil raspy voice and said
I'll be awaiting you on the other side

then he turned to leave the room
the way he entered by stepping right through a solid wall
made of brick an stone
now I sit here all alone wondering and shaking 
what the hell just happend to me

is there something in my life that I must change 
my life do I have to rearrange 
I do not want to meet that messenger from hell on the other side

this is not a tale I tell
for you may think I'm crazy as hell
but I believe in what I saw
I was visited by a messenger from hell

if there is a lesson to be learned from my story
look into your life and change what will make it right
to travel into the light 
to heaven not hell
when your time ends upon this earth


Details | Narrative | |

Restoration

Your bundle of joy I was, you were mine,
The strength of our love knew no bounds,
Limitless adventures were our portion,
The taste of your lips, as divine as the softness of your touch,
Making out with you, an adrenaline rush.

Time has passed, that era has ended,
Arguments have taken the place of conversation,
We know each other's touch no more,
Broken I make you without effort,
To the point where you desire to sever our ties,
But our destinies are tangled vines,
An item we are destined to be.

A period I'll dedicate to you,
To make our weaknesses strengths,
To make our understanding full,
So our love can be restored to its glory


Details | Narrative | |

The Ong Civilization

If unable to read, see translation at end of poem!


THE ONG CIVILIZATION

Wonghongilonge songailinonggong tonghonge Pongacongifongicong, I dongisongcongovonge rongedong a songunongkongenong rongeefong.

Itong wongasong tonghonge longononggong longosongtong Isonglonge ofong Ononggong.

Mongy dongisongcongovongerongy longedong monge tongo fonginongdong tonghongatong
tonghongisong tonginongyong isonglonge hongadong bongeenong tonghonge hongomonge ofong tonghonge Ononggong congivongilongizongatongionong.

Tonghongrongee mongilongesong anongdong tongwongomongilongesong wongidonge,  itongsonganongkong bongecongausonge tonghonge Ononggongesonge wongeronge songo hongeavongyong tonghongeirong wongeigonghongtong wongasong songogongrongeatong tonghongatong itong wongasong longosongtong fongorong congenongtongurongiesong 
unongtongilong mongy dongisongcongovongerongyong anongdong itongsong longanongonguagonge wongasong tongronganongronglongatongedong.

Translation:  While sailing the Pacific, I discovered a sunken reef.  It was the home of the long lost Isle of Ong.  My discovery led me to find that this tiny isle had been the home of the Ong covilization.  Three miles long and two miles wide, it sank because the Ongonese were so heavy and their weight was so great that it was lost for centuries until my discovery and its language was translated.


Curtis Moorman
28 January 2012

For contest:  New Language


Details | Narrative | |

Tears upon fear

My head is heavy
And your know where near
Our lives are slowly crumbling
And we're not there to hear

Sand bag to wall
We're there when each other fall
Release your load
Only so much you can take
Give it to me
I'll hold your world on my shoulders

Sandbag to wall
I'll do my best not to fall
In turn
I know we'll soon switch
My shoulders are in a slouch
And life's becoming too big of a bit©h

Your silent words spoken
Things said but not heard
A hoax in communication
A bridge thats now been burnt
Each lie and blameful word
Melted in a smoldering pot
Craters into your life
Strips you left with only a soul to show

The meteoroid was left standing there
Some what in tacked
But left a tear
Like a dagger in the heart
You refuse to take out
Time over time
The meteoroid has dissapeared
but still you imagine its there
Stuck in the past 
Your stubborn as a ass
When will you move on

We cleaned up the debris
Everyday we came by
Between each heart fulled hi and goodbye
We'd fill our baby up
Trying to help him get by
But no matter how hard we tried
He was just a hole

I look back to dusk
And see my blooming flower
So many bees all around
They were bound to sting
Ignore all signs and look at you now
After they all fly high
And leave you under the great blue sky

Everyday Ill come
And lay there with a rope
Waiting to pull you back
And carry you into a world of hope
Because I'm afraid  of your other ways to cope


 


Details | Narrative | |

''Runaway Wanted''

I see my breathe.
Night has fell upon a frost.
Gods' chill lye now on my shoulders.
Alone yet not.
Silence now before the icey rain.
Surrender as my nervous teeth chatter.
For the warmth of a home is all that is desired.
My empty haven.
But,I am filled with a heart that is full.
Want nor wait.
Arms now cover me like a blanket.
Gust of wind has carried your unwaivered heart.
Candles lit a way to find what is left.
Merely an image of what once was.
Break down into a sob.
Remains frozen solid as climate has taken its' vengence.
I suffer no more,weak body.
Now only in spirit.
Shall I rest.


Details | Narrative | |

The Slave's Tale: Across the Atlantic, 1793

Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale


-Across the Atlantic, 1793-


We cry out cursing to our very gods
Whilst mokala and plotters lead us in lots.
And slaves we have become, slaves we are groomed
And setting in the milken sky, is the moon.
                              		
This is the hell that befalls one’s prism
If he doesn’t open himself to pragmatism.
The ways of mokala are not our ways
And their days are never like our days. 

Hope you fall in line with my tune’s knell
As it would guide souls to wisely dwell:
Now permit me continue with my sad tale
Before we are rapidly placed on sale.

For here I stand under an alien sun
Faraway from my own sweet land’s rung
Battered, chained to the queue’s label 
As humans are placed on the auction table.

Here I proceed with my tale feeding you
With my pain, pains of brothers on cue
As they are sold off like fresh tobacco
Whips meeting flesh if anyone plays the hero.

                            ***

 Rocks! ebesse rocking, shaking like old
The chains cutting into arms, legs to mold
Croaks and groans climaxing to a sadistic rhythm
Beating us to yield forth into realism.

Light strained in through rat nibbled openings
Else we would have left the hold like blind goblins 
Vicious to the point of abandonment
Scuffling for blood, mokala’s disbursement.

Aided by the scurrying light, my head worked
East, west, south and north, on shoulders, rocked-
Acquainting itself with the crampy hold
Taking in every detail for any bolt.

In long prodigious rows we humans lay
Meditating, some wide-eyed not to say
Tear tracks dry on their black paling cheeks.
They now submissive despite the reeks. 

A cough here, a huff there. A groan here
A croak there. A curse far afield, a stifle near.
A prayer whimpered here, a shiver rippling
There. A horrid sight it was, a grappling. 

That pungent stench, from decaying beings:
Men awake whilst parts decayed in rings.
I was nauseated, my eyes reeling, pained
My stomach flaring to throw up content.

And there they ran, hiking on heaving bodies
Playing hide-and seek- on chained enemies.
Tossing about, screeching on their suppers-
Causing a kick here, shrieks there, left-overs.

And my groans joined the choir, a dirge
Loud to fissure walls, and seditious to merge
Vocal forces to kill, kill! Kill! No shy- 
And we’d die sober, die! Die! Die!




Details | Narrative | |

"Lost? I'll Find You Friend Pt.1"

Another day
Another pair of eyes
Depression is sulking you 
Well words for a bloody deal
I don't i can deal with you anymore
But im making sure the rest see who you really are
Now let's start this story right: 

1/21/07

Sara calls me, saying she needs help screaming, saying gunfire is all around her house and
jonh is outside, bullets are piercing her windows, so the hood must be at war tonight, i
nervously look at the clock and is 1:23a.m. I tell her to stay on the line and im heading
there ASAP, running trough my house got the shirt, got the phone, car keys so im on my
way, while getting in the car she screams "Help!" I ask what happend, but all i hear is
more gunshots but banging closer to the phone, im at 102mph and the highway is so lonlie,
so i know the devil must have a plan for us all this dark early morning, so im closer now,
as soon as i see the entrance of her street i see flashing lights from one side to the
other, i made a choice, i just need to get to the other side, so i accelerated and passed
in the middle catching all bullets spraying side by side, but im here, carefully i get out
of my car and run the the door of her apartment, i see blood on the living room, kitchen
made dust with bullets, so i slowly walk to her room and i open the door, her massacre
body laying on the right side of bed, blood paints the white walls red, my eyes gaze upon
my friends corpse but a click made me think were is jonh? So i grabbed a knife and ran
outside, gansters coming from the front side so run to the back, there i was impact by a
bullet in the back, so i fell, crawling for safety another strikes my right arm, not much
strenght, i turn and hold tightly the knife with my left hand, when i raise my eyes to see
who is my murderer i see jonh with a red hoddie, so he betrayed us all, he points his gun
to my left arm and Boom! I looked at him and asked why... He responded: When a man see's
the truth and makes a deal with the devil for achieving glory, he takes down anyone and
anything just to touch truth once...I closed my eyes and open them again and i see the
devil besides him with a black cane, smile is pretty deep, so jonh pointed his gun to my
head, now is a good bye, BOOM! So now cold embrace my body in a second while flames drag
me to hell, i can see now, he wanted to us all, for truth, so truth he found, but im not
ready to die yet, shhh! Bips ring my hears, im in a hospital, tubed down troath, i see im
not ready, but jonh is, i'll hunt you down, friend.


Details | Narrative | |

The Slave's Tale: Arrival

Exracted from Gerald Nforche's Epic, The Slave's Tale


-Duala, RIOS DOS CAMEROES, 1787-

One fine morning, when love birds flew and sang 
And the valleys with every gaiety rang,
The sun just setting from a misty east
We had visitors from the waters’ midst.

Our fishermen were out spreading their nets
Though broken, could entangle fish’s legs
When they saw at the horizon, approaching
A large house, like none ever seen, smoking.

Smoke exited from large horizontal
Mouths, like some fire within wood and metal.
Very huge flapping leaves hung on large ropes
Made us shiver, staggered with every lope.

And as the large house ebesse  approached
Our fine archers were ready for the broach:-
Scouts scanned from the nearest hill and informed
The djanewa for any quick reform.

Village criers had announced the fall ’f war
Within which those who could lift arms no more,
Women and children wide-eyed with fear
Were evacuated to our secret lair.

And in the waters deep ebesse stopped
Emitting a loud cry: come watch us hop
Our blood about to clot from our within:-   
Wood and metal kicking, crying in the wind.

Many canoes splashed into the waters
And creatures with sacks fell in from ladders
And rowed towards us, towards our very shores.
We kept the watch, canoes following a course.

Minutes soon, at the very shores they came
We watching baffled, belligerent lame.
Fifteen they were, hairy, brown and long nosed
Not unlike pale pigs in the valleys noosed. 
 
Large brown bowls perched on their massive heads,
Noted by us as they poured out in herds
From their dancing canoes. Pipes hung from mouths
As tobacco was devoured and feet jingled loud.

And we understood they were some traders:-
We had heard their chilling news from gossipers
Who’d spoken of the magic of these men
Who had come by wind, traded and returned.

And from the gossip that ran a-wild,
We‘d gathered the name made for them from sight:
They looked burnt, like they were once like us
We called them mokala for we were at a loss.

With the prodigious group were our brothers:
We shared the same skin, they were no rioters
Save they spoke with mokala like mutineers:-
We watching, bemused straining with all ears.

A troop marched forward expressing might
 Mokala watching unsettled, wide-eyed
Befuddlement on their very black lips:
Pity spelled in their eyes, daggers on their hips. 


Details | Narrative | |

Honor of Friendship-Part One

08/20/2012
---------------------
In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen, but I can’t help it as my mind wonders ‘where do I fit among those you praise’? Between the lines I remain, unsure as to where I truly belong.
Can I find myself; the monster, the witch, amongst these silver knights of yours, or shall I stay hidden, beside myself watching, loving, caring for you from afar?
I never really know just where I stand; I don’t know what or who I am to you.
But on you go about them, your true, amazing friends as I listen, secretly listening wish I too, could make you so happy. I hope that maybe someday, you will see just what you mean to me, that you’ll understand you are my one true friend-My best friend. The only one who has stayed by my side? And I’ll continue to listen to you. Continue to read all you write for the others, and I’ll continue to give you all I have until you hold the entirety of my heart in your hand until there’s nothing more of me but emptiness and all I have you shall receive, as it’s reserved for just you until the very last breath I have leaves me.
Never will you really know how your lack of words is so much louder than any words that could ever be spoken. But still I keep everything for you because you are everything to me-my best friend, the only one to have ever stuck around…I so wish I could do the same, but I am not like the others. I am the nothing that fills the empty space around you, the nothing that hovers and clings to you like a leech. I am a nobody, a nothing but a ‘someone’…
A someone unknown to most, a someone who cannot express a damned thing in a way that makes sense.
But still I sit by you, I stand by your side and hope you know I am here for you; always here forever. If ever you need someone to lean on, someone to carry you up the mountain of turmoil…I will.


Details | Narrative | |

LOATHSOME AGE OF GREED

If I had lived yesterday
in that chaotic world echoing
of Gatling guns shots and canon blasts,
I would have made a difference:
hate and prejudice would have not prevailed,
and power wouldn't have been abused;
from History's records, we know that even 
when Jesus lived it wasn't that peaceful!
During the American Civil war,
Northerners fought Southerners...
did they hear Scarlet's desperation,
or the moaning of her loss as war went on?
And for sometime, it had become
a modus vivendi she couldn't change.
Let's return to the stark reality of the present:
have we noted some drastic changes
in Government and social behavior?
Yes, it has given us more liberty,
but another war has shattered many hopes
of ever seeing peace as blood continues to be shed...
while nations arm themselves to their teeth!
How can we welcome those winds of change and feel safe,
if we tell our children that danger still exists?
And has society been kinder and more caring?
Obscenity, teen sex, violence, greed, vulgarity
and exploited sexuality are being condoned by many;
we wouldn't be that cool if we didn't use obscene words,
and worst of all, we are called hermits or asexual
if we abstain from sex to prevent those sexual diseases!
Is this rebellion, or a trend of the new generation?
Having unprotected sex, making babies, 
laying the burden on their Government that's fighting
a terrorist war? Do we seen any future
for these lost kids who imitate the habits of their parents?
Blame them? Ah! Lots of things would be changed,
if they turned to God and ask for His guidance!
And to end my visceral narrative, I shamefully confess, 
" I hate to live in this loathsome age of greed!"


Details | Narrative | |

Divine Vision

Alone, I sank myself that night,
In prayer, deep, divine and true.
And in my mind, I saw a sight- 
A vision I was meant to view:

Amidst the acres- stretching land,
And before a palace great, 
I found myself, with Jesus, stand,
And gaze at what might be my fate.

A voice was heard- Him asking me,
"Is this your long-gone destiny?
Or is it up to you to leave 
It all behind and work for me?"

I thought no more and answered fast,
And chose to go with Him to life-
Life eternal, waiting, vast,
And full of bliss, but not a sigh!


Details | Narrative | |

Momentary Reflection

I was paralyzed in thought,
and standing all alone;
Surrounded by darkness,
everything was gone...

With barely a glimpse, from the corner of my eye;
I was travelling so fast as I passed myself by.
I was moving at high speed, as if,
somehow out of time.

Thinking to myself, looking back into the distance;
Could I have been resting, 
or was there something on my mind;
Maybe, I was just Reflecting,
on some Moments from past times...

A Momentary Reflection,
I thought as I laughed;
Reflections of mistakes, so many in my past;
Or maybe the future, and thoughts of my death.

There's no point in thinking that anything can change;
I passed myself there and found myself here;
Crossroads unmarked, destination unphased,
Trembling,
like a lost dog, covered in mange...

A strength unfound, a desire to disappear;
A Momentary Reflection,
of how I found my way here.

As I watch myself in quiet,
with no desire to stop;
In slow motion I fall,
from a single gunshot...

A Momentary Reflection,
of where I stood at the start;
Maybe if I had slowed, or come to a stop,
this Moment I have witnessed,
the confusion and doubt;
Just maybe, somehow;
I could have found a way out...


Details | Narrative | |

A Diagram of Me Losing It

Stagnant saturated rage 
     Steeped in exhaustion
White knuckles from holding the valve closed
     But fat drops still escape and 
Plop onto the ground

Little bombs; vicious words; 
      Daggers thrown from watery eyes
Disregard is more painful that confrontation

It festers and curls blackened tendrils
      Around my heart
Pieces of my self are 
      Falling from a spigot...

Copious streams of anger coursing 
      Through my body
Laughing, just minutes ago; 
      I was calm
There is no where for the darkness to go now

It swoops down on everyone around me 
      Like a nuclear cloud
There is no feeling now for I am merely 
      A conduit of the emotion

Now distant and cold, fortified in a small place 
      Somewhere in my head

Once the storm has passed,
      Apologies will be required.


Details | Narrative | |

Honor of Friendship-Part Three

Once again silence envelopes me, like a thick blanket choking me, thrashing and panicking I wish to escape and wonder why you have left me like this? Why you have left me with such emptiness, such silence, digging into me, ripping me apart… “Please, do not abandon me…” I wish to say, to plead…to beg, but no words escape me for I can no longer breathe.
All I did was listen, that’s all I’ve ever done, and then…you’re gone and I feel so alone…so alone. Lost in a never ending darkness, floating aimlessly and I cannot find my way. All I did was listen, all I’ve ever done was listen, I was only ever by your side. Was that not enough? Did you want more? What more can I give? Please, tell me why must you hide, why must the silence over take us-me? Why must I be left on the sidelines…why must I be forgotten…?
When you speak with others, can you not speak with me as you speak with them? Do you feel shamed when spending time with me? Must our friendship be hidden? I do not understand… I wish to, I wish so much to understand you but I cannot. I cannot see when my only light is gone.
They are the only ones for you, they are your friends…I am the forgotten one. Abandoned; left behind, in silence, darkness, and sorrow. They are the ones for you, they are the ones you love, they are the ones you praise and honour…What am I? what am I?
Why do I surround myself around you, why do I care so much, when you obviously care so little? Do you even care at all? Am I just someone to fill the space, am I just someone to pass the time with until you can be with your real friends, once again leaving me on my own…

In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen as you continuously adorn them with riches of words…

What am I to you? WHO am I to you? Will you ever say, will I ever know? Is there anything to say, anything to know? Or shall I always be left in the dark silence?


Details | Narrative | |

End Of Life - 2012

Senior citizen wakes up
Looks in the mirror
What's happened here?

Time has caught up
The end could be near
Nothing to calm the pending fear

So much left to do
A feeling of dread
So much left unsaid

Must be a dream
This can't be right
Visions of Heaven's eternal light

Here the children
Their beautiful laughter
Wonder what comes after

Memories of life come rushing back
Like a sideshow; a play
Wishing for one more day

Too bad the young don't know
It's all fun; They don't care
Life happens; not always fair

Twilight is here; No more time
Fading out like the setting sun
No matter our plans, our life is done


Details | Narrative | |

It is Here Again

It is Here Again

By BJ Welsh

It’s raining and raining as requested
The thought I’ve just really digested
Watching and staring as the raindrops fall
Who do you think would miss me after all?

I sit and wonder without nary an expression
Days pass to weeks with only further digression
Time it seems is not on my side
The rain I pray will never ever hide

Rain used to be such a welcome sight
To clean the earth from dirt and its’ blight
Now I look for only grey clouded skies
Matching the look and sadness in my eyes

The rain it seems must never ever end
For which it is my only dearest friend
I seek it out with such joy and delight
Watching and waiting sometimes all night

The rain’s come again to see me through
This life of misery is well past due
It’s soothing and a welcome pleasure too
For which I have but very few

Tomorrow is another day for rain?
I can only hope I’m still here and sane
To live to see it is but a dream
I’m not long for this world, or so it would seem







Details | Narrative | |

Why Church called Catholic

Church is a she Bride of Father Christ Church is Catholic Church is people Catholic related to the whole Greek kat’holon Father Christ called Profess whole faith Preserve all Sacraments To administer To proclaim Good News Sent her to all nations (YOUCAT) 4092013


Details | Narrative | |

Somebody Say Something

Somebody Say Something

By BJ Welsh

Tumbling towards the mountainous rim
All comes crashing down around him
Don’t be afraid, to rid one of vice
A whisper would have been nice

Looking back on those days
When life was good; albeit hazed
Was it just a phase?
Although it lasted longer than it should
Please, would you say something now if you could?
A few choice words would certainly suffice
A whisper would have been nice

Spiraling out and down it goes
Things go on and nobody knows
Gripping life tighter makes it melt like ice
A whisper would have been nice

If it’s silence that you’re so inclined
Don’t be shocked by a life denied
Repeat if you must once or thrice
A whisper would have been nice

Of course there was nothing to see
He made it that way quite happily
If I told you once I told you twice
A whisper would have been nice













Details | Narrative | |

honor of Friendship-Part Two

I listen, and I’ll always listen because I will do anything for you, I would die to keep you safe and alive. I would do whatever to make you feel better. And so, I listen as you talk about them, these amazing friends of yours…Only some I have met. How lucky they are to have such devotion, how lucky they are to not feel the sting of betrayal and abandonment; thrust upon their spine crippling them to a state of fear, anger, and distrust.
How lucky they are to have you, how lucky I am to have you.
Do you understand, do you see just how much I love you?
 Soul such as yours deserves only the best; perhaps that is where I fault, I bring upon you sadness and pain, until all you do is go silent hiding behind solid doors. Composing words of sorrow, and they stab me like a sword in the gut…Closed off, shut away from you-I cannot function like this. I lose my way, I lose everything, I cannot be kept away, please open up to me… ‘DO NOT SHUT ME OUT’ I cry…I don’t want to lose you, yet I feel as though I already have; I feel as if I never really had you all along-not truly. That everything I believed, everything I have come to know is fake. An act, a show you put on until you can no longer pretend to care anymore so when the opportunity comes along you go silent and drop me. I am left forgotten, wondering what happened…Seconds, minutes, hours go by and nothing. I lose control, I panic and my bleeding heart reacts. Maybe you did not mean it though, but maybe you did…I don’t know and I’m not sure I ever really will know and my mind spins like a top…I don’t know what to do, or say…or think. Do you even care? Did you ever care, or did you just pretend so you did not have to face me? If you were given the opportunity would you forget who I am, would you abandon me in the unforgiving tide, left alone to fight against the waves, until all I have given you-all the memories flood me until I drown, going down to the pit of nothing…? The pit of lies that you made, would it be easy to turn you back on me, leave me to fight alone this losing battle until you are no longer burdened by me…? And when I am gone, will you finally feel free?


Details | Narrative | |

Last Love

Love – a single word to relieve from all sorts of stress
A curing medicine fromcomplete sickness
A boosting therapy to energize oneself
A high-drug tablet to overcome worries
A model which doesn’t tear to pieces
A preservative to save human soul
A magical garden having summer throughout  the year
A blooming flower whose fragrance never sheds
A virus which cannot be shattered
A strange feel sometimes at first sight.

An endless stream taking source from mountains-where
 There is no instance of water foundation
  With neither a beginning nor an end
Starting from the eyes,
 stimulating the pulses,
entering the tissues,
 electrifying veins,
piercing the brainpower,
 pressurizing the blood vessels,
widening sensational thoughts,
 demolishing every part of incapability,
facing world with a chuckle in cheeks.

 -were the symptoms happened to me – when
  I too was caught as a victim.
It inspired whole organs of the body,
  making it a slave to Him.
Though grasped my heart's room for a short occasion - and
  Even if the person doesn’t deserve to be placed,
     The position is impossible to be replaced by any other
I was suspected to be flying far above ozone
  unaware my legs are static and silent in soil
Unsure of its advent, keyed up with its anticipation, 
  Moved at its motivation, wretched due to its annulment-and 
Now I’m in a lifeless state after the Loss of all my GAINS.

Clutching his hands, 
Clinging his shoulders,
Hours of conversations,
Desire to fulfill his every wishes ?
Locking my voice, when his anger raises,
A divine compromise following a huge quarrel,
Lived like a couple for awhile, unconscious that it was a play. . 
Believed of  walking unto the glittery path,
 I fell into the sun-which Burnt me entirely 
From brain cells destroying throughout my flair.

Clarify my doubts:
Am I attracted to your affectionate masculine talks?
	Is my mind polluted with your filthy lies?
	Is that warmth friendliness mistaken as Love?
	Is Possessiveness mistaken as Love?
	Is an act of care mistaken as Love?
	Is your Fleeting look mistaken as Love? Or else
	Is it substantial bodily Lust mistaken as Love?
Even after knowing U are a cheat, why couldn’t I ignore U?
May be I might have chosen a wrong person to love.
       But my Love never went wrong… being contented with my sorrows and tears.
Its my journey treasuring the pleasurable pain of my Last Love * * 		$$Good Bye$$


Details | Narrative | |

Gates Of Hell April 19 2010

Insanity is the essance, 
that helps define my identity.
Open the flood gates to h*ll,
for a little peak into my reality.

Tortured by the vivid dreams,
racing through my mind.
Stuck in a trance, frozen in fear,
I feel so left behind.

Locked down with metal shoes,
chained against the wall.
Nowhere to turn, no options to take,
my turn to take the fall.

I look down there's nothing there,
but the fiery pits of hell.
The flames so bright they are blinding me,
as I hide behind my exterior shell.

Protected only for a moments peace,
to put my mind at rest.
Accepting that this is it for me,
I have definatly been put to the test.

A small glimps into my file,
tell me, "What do you see?"
Insanity, anger, sorrow and pain,
the true depths of me.


Details | Narrative | |

Dream Catcher

When the light of the sun begins to fall Echoes of thoughts begin to ball Drifting into a sleepless state Possibilities grow, at a relentless rate I open my mind, in a wonderland of no validity Emphasized by a walk, through a mirror of fluidity Children's laughter in a sadistic tone This dream is a nightmare, far from home The path I am walking........leads to a house Beyond the door, I wish for my friend, my lover and spouse As the door creaks open a figure is revealed I brace myself, my numbness is my shield A wrinkled hand reaches out from the black It grabs my wrist, leaving no time to fight back As I'm dragged into the darkness, the figure becomes clear The face of my victim, my deepest fear


Details | Narrative | |

Tim in the Skies

I woke up screaming
from one of my dreams.
Stuck my face in a pillow
to muffle the screams.	

It's hard to watch
someone else die.
Are you up there watching
as I search the sky?

I'm looking for answers.
God gives me a few.
The answers are empty
down here without you.

I should have died.
Not you my dear friend.
You just tried to help me
and I dreamed it again.

The knife in your heart.
Your eyes that just stared.
I hate to admit this
but I was so scared.

I was the first one
to fall to the floor.
Kicked,beaten,and stabbed.
But there would be more.

I curled into a ball
and I should have stayed there.
Frank and your brother appeared
and both asked me,"where?"

I pointed as they ran.
there were to many to fight.
But they both rushed right in.
It was satan's delight.

I got up and followed.
Didn't know what else to do.
I walked right through the carnage
and that's when I saw you.

You asked me what happened.
But I was out of my mind.
I said I was jumped 
and then we both looked behind.

There was your brother falling
with ten guys on him 
and like Frank and Dan
you just rushed right in.

We both watched in horror
as Dan curled into a ball.
Then you grabbed this guy
and threw him into the wall.

Then everything was slow motion.
Guys were flying through the air.
I could barely see anything 
but all I did was stare.

You were making them run
but one still wanted to fight.
That's when I rushed in.
He had this big knife.

I got there too late.
I grabbed you where you fell.
The look in your eyes
is my own private hell.

You died in my arms.
Some of me died there too.
It's been thirty years now.
Thirty years without you.

Why did it happen Lord?
Will I ever know?
Will Tim ever forgive me?
Do I want to know?

A nightmare that lives
after I close my eyes.
A dream that makes me
search for Tim in the skies.

For my Best friend Tim Gitchel who was murdered on 2/12/1979 in Oxnard CA at the 
movie theatre when we tried to see The Warriors. I miss you buddy. RIP


Details | Narrative | |

The Mistake of the Unstable Mind

Way aback upon the fog of the swamp and the itch of the tree
 lay a beautiful lady that no one ever got to see.

 She was a runaway of sorts but not by her will.
 She ran to stay alive so that she would not be the next kill.

 Now she sits in her little house with her grandfather trying to do what she can do
 but she hasn't seen a soul since five years old and her grandfather had given up very
much to.

 Her grandfather said it was an army that came through her town that carried off everyone
      who spoke her tongue.
 Out of the bed she was pulled and they began to run.

 They had heard the stories that were put by her grandfather into her ear.
 Stories of unspeakable things, ones that brought panic and fear.

 Her grandfather lifted her in his arms and ran as fast as he could frantic to stay alive. 
 It wasn't until they were well into the woods he realized the others had been left behind.

 For the first time she'd seen a grown man cry.
 Then he hugged her closer and through the woods they began to fly.

 Now they sit in their home waiting for any news.
 The people in his town knew this house and she waited for any clues.

 That hope had gone along with her grandfather's mind.
 The house was so far back it seemed just to hard to find. 

 One day the beautiful lady saw something move and out of the house she ran.
 It was a man.

 He looked at her with an admiring face.
 His eyes began to gaze.

 The woman was beautiful but she never knew.
 She had nothing to compare herself to.

 The man was dressed in very unusual clothes.
 She heard something ring and was shocked to see a cellular phone.

 She wondered what had happen over the past fifteen years since she'd been here.
 A phone with no cords. How queer?

 He hung up the phone and she ran to him "What's going on with the Jews in Germany?"
 "What is going on with the war?"
 
 The man looked very concerned and knew not what to say for sure.
 "Ma'am, That war has been over for many years. It's 2004."


Details | Narrative | |

Earth Control

Seismic Toss, Heavenly air-drifting
Controlling Comets and Meteors, Controlling the Earth
Fear as I can destroy Earth whenever, too much power.
I want to be normal, healthy and normal, being Godlike in a dream, scary - yes.
Hopefully I twist the knee jerk action and calm down.
Controlling everything is a weird feeling, before in a state of stranger-like cat readiness.
Jeremy BonBon's, French croissant, happy tranquil times, no danger.
All the best, Earth, control of Earthis frightening. Imagine what control universe.


Details | Narrative | |

tales about them

each time when some stories
are told I cringe
and swallow a lump of bitterness
and will my tear duct to stay intact
because I will never break 
in the presence of anyone
I'd rather shut my eyelids 
and start counting backwards 
from 10
She loves me, I know that
but tough love can only stretch
this far and sometimes
when u least want
your heart will melt
its walls will wilt releasing
molten warmth that will wash over
your tear stains and feed the demons
in your stomach
Love knows not only fear
but weakness, charisma and a wicked
sense of humor
and strength that will envelope
you further down the rabbit hole
that may possibly swallow 
and spit you to a shore
where the sand is shiny and glassy
it cuts your heels until you bleed
and come to a stop
where death will find you
or you could just hand over 
your life to Satan 
just to not feel anymore pain
for a second, to silence
the screaming voices in your head
that tells you hell isn't quite 
done burning you
and to quiet down the cries
of your tongue as it dries and 
stick to your throat until you suffocate
this life isn't yours to take
or trade or give away
its for you to give, to know and 
not even understand because if you did
then you would never feel pain
and you will always smile
even when the storms rips you off
of all you have
so right now this is me reaching out
hold on to my hand and be granted
one more good reason to stay
a bit of warmth and a glance of love
one day we will both stand before God
and recite this story


Details | Narrative | |

Reminisce

He            started to seep himself into my shaken body              
	    After my 12th birthday; the day I got introduced            
            to what ‘menstrual’ is. Not once, twice, three but
            five rounds of this filthy act. BAM, BAM, BAM,
            BAM, BAM; just like that, five startling, heart 
            shaking, body rupturing rounds. At that time he 
            was 30, way older than I was. I would never forget
            those black liquid eyes surrounded by a stinging
            red rim piercing through my precious innocent 
            soul, followed by that crooked smirk. The

Raped       lamb—correction the ripe lamb laid heedlessly on 
            the grass soaking up the sun. It felt eyes preying
            its head, its body down to its heels but shrugged
            that feeling off. This larger figure jumped out and 
            put the sheep to sleep. It was dragged away;
            lifeless. I was aware of everything but taken over
            by utter shock. It was darkness, I could see the
            moonlight trying to bust open the deteriorated
            blinds. The incents battled the aroma of weed. I
            coughed but no sound came out, only my body
            shuddered. I then realized my mouth has been
            taped by a heavy sticky film; duct tape. The room 
            was small, very small as was the mattress that I
            lay on centered in the middle of what it feels, jail  
            cell. Everything is torn and worn. I attempt to 
            move but my hands are cuffed by a silver bracelet 
            attached to chains, it connects to the bed rails. I 
            scan the room franticly as I look at the closet I
            review those black liquid eyes and yolk stained
            teeth smiling at me. I swallowed my scream; Help
            Me. It was

Me             who would not move. Him who was panicky. Us 
           who put no connection. Them who do not know. 
           I wonder what would happen if I even whisper the
           events of that time.  No one but Silence and I 
           know the truth behind the vivid lies. I felt no 
           sympathy.  I had no chances. There was no
           escape. It haunted my childhood forever.
           Happiness, candy, joy isn’t that it? Not in my case, 
           mine’s was different. Silent Secrets is more like it 
           and it still is that way.



Rebecca C*


Details | Narrative | |

Blank Amongst the Fake

Wishing to be numb
Coaxed by it's powerful fake love
Let it take over and drown out

Wishing I've made bad choices
To be wash out
To not remember a part of your life is a gift
Get in 
drug up
drain in
Blood drips from my torn skin


Details | Narrative | |

My mind, confused

My mind says no but my heart says yes
Is an old timely excuse, I must confess 
But I now finally understand why one uses this
To explain their perfidy while they remain in bliss 
I try by all means, to remain faithful to one 
But another comes along and just makes the matter that more fun 
She came in, her intentions at first I did not know 
My life already unstable, my mind began to flow 
The way she entered, graceful with one thought in her mind this I knew 
I could tell she was a virgin and at this my mind flew 
But she was willing to willing….to be caught within my embrace 
And I could not resist the temptation as I saw - longing written on her face 
Although she was only but a child of sixteen and I was much older 
Her maturity drew me near and things, were far less colder 
I resisted for as long as I possibly could 
But she persisted and there I stood 
Helpless in her man eater ways 
And I suddenly “forgot” what my wife would say 
If she ever saw me in the hands of another 
If she ever saw me caught beneath the covers 
I knew she would be distraught, saddened by my act 
For thus far she has remained flawless, faithful within our pact 
But still I allowed my unforgiveable desires to grow stronger 
I ignored all moral sense and could resist, no longer
We stayed together that night
And she was indeed quite a sight 
For a virgin I was impressed and questioned that innocence I assumed she once had 
But I brushed the thought, for the feeling I shared for her and with her was not bad 
I promised myself that I would not let myself go astray yet again 
But her scent now lingers, in my sheets, forever stained
I held her close, as she slumbered and was thankful that my wife was not within my domain 
And was admittedly fearful for her pain 
If she ever knew that I was this way
The same way I was with her to another on this day 
Her heart would break as this truth continuously swam within my thoughts 
She must never know but I did not know how to avoid being caught 
However despite my worry, I woke up the next morning…… as if she had not been with me 
That is when my conscious finally fell with a thud as I wondered how I would be free 
I then heard someone enter through my door 
Her voice called as my stomach fell with my conscious to the floor 
I braced myself knowing what I must now say 
My mind grew darker as she made her way 
As I saw her face, smiling and the ignorance blissful in her eyes 
I could not bring myself to let her know of the burden hidden beneath my disguise 
I will relieve myself of this guilt, this act of duplicity later on in life 
But for now I will enjoy my time with her and be thankful that she is still my wife  


Details | Narrative | |

Love of a teen

Love will keep us alive darling 
No matter what obstacle we may endure
Love can never be bought darling
Neither by dollars nor sterling
That i am absolutely sure.
What is love? I asked myself
Quite some time ago
When i met her.... for some strange reason
I suddenly felt i'd know
Her beauty filled brown eyes... like hazel nuts
Were gleaming through my dreams
She was everywhere... no matter where i looked
I was filled with an overwhelming feeling
And... i knew what it was all about 
This attraction all made sense
I was in love for the first time in my life
And boy! it really felt great  
It couldn't be barred by any steel cage
Nor by any sacred way
I tried so hard to keep it inside but Hey!
I too have my limits okay?
Limits were exceeded... feelings won the race
As i saw an empty seat where she sits
I sat down beside her... she smiled at me
I was in heaven... yes... heaven was what i was seeing

She was an angel indeed
So beautiful and lively
Lips like two red chillies
Her hair so smooth and fine
And as i was about to get close to my gal
Heaven itself did something rash.
I was talking with my girl with all the courage and might
But outta nowhere a dozen more angels popped in to sight
Hell!
My feelings just shifted
And day dreaming started.
Love is blind they say - but not ma eyes
That is how it all ended
Was it love? Was it a crush?
Or was i a self centered ignorant mush
Answers! Answers! Answers!... seriously who can tell?
Love or no love..
Crush or whatever...
Man! It sure felt great.

                                                               
             Let me know what you think about this too and for all the people  who
commented on my previous poem... Thank you very much for your kind words and hope that you
would enjoy this as well.

 


Details | Narrative | |

Rotting Metal Pines

The moon is low, so
I smile(d) at the
dark sky and the
stars that shine. I
speak to ones below.
I let my feet grab
the ground around
the rotten metal
pines. I move slow.
My drowning thoughts
catch wind of a fine
breeze, and are
brought to the
surface just in
time. Met by a dull
glow. And yet led
away to a spot
between two tall
trees. What was dark
is getting darker. 
The cloud overhead
is a monstrosity, I
hope it don't
swallow me whole. My
hands, in fear, grab
whatever's near. And
the time begins to
tick quicker than I
thought was
possible. It was a
fallen stick of
pine, it was
something I could
yield if foes broke
(my) fence.
Something i could
use in a panicked
defense. But
feelings I felt soon
pass(ed) fast. So I
broke that pine
stick, and choose it
for shovel, not
sword.  And I dig
myself a hole,
somewhere to sit my
(tired) spine. I
take a glance.  The
moon pulls my inside
tides. Makes me
question what's
real, and even
what's not. So I
crawl(ed) inside my
head, 'cuz it's all
I got.


Details | Narrative | |

Soul Searching

To shout outwards in ease is who we are
we think.
Then we whisper looking inside to find
something left behind
rancid
We realize we haven't found ourselves
yet, we pretend
we've been looking
but we haven't really.
It's all too scarey like Kafka's Gregory
afraid we'll wake up like roaches
too pitiful to live.
We place our masks on in the morning 
for it's too bright out in the sun
a different face we lean on at night
whether full moon or not.
I've noticed people are reticent to soul search
they're too afraid of what they might find.
I've looked
I've found
I'm not quite sure what I'll do now.
This new found information leaves
me lost.


Details | Narrative | |

Tripped off

In the midst of the day
While strolling in the park
I felt dizzy, confused
Then tripped into a stone

I lost my balance
No  strength to move
A sob and a sigh came out
Tears fell down easily

I tried to get up
But gravity bring me down
No one is there to help
Approach and give a hand

A minute in there
Is just like a decade
Of suffering and pain
Which inculcate in my mind

No strength, no will
I lost my consciousness
Then a hand supported me
From not falling down

I took a glimpse
And opened my eyes
Then I saw a mysterious man 
It's face smiling and glowing

Who is the stranger
A puzzled face shown
Thinking the word why
Guessing the doubtful

He let me sit down
In the greenish grass
Feel the morning dew 
See the colorful dandelion

"If I may ask" I said softly
The man vanished
I looked everywhere
But he's not there

The moment I tripped the stone
Yang energy filled me
Ying spirit lifted me up
Until I regained me

What is lost 
maybe returned
If faith remained
And trust the ONE


Details | Narrative | |

Unidentify but identify terrorist

Although you revealed your identity
But no one to catch you.
Why are you so wicked?
You so called terrorist.
Ask me what you did?

It seems you don’t have 
Human feeling!
Where you not created by God?
Answer me,am talking to you.
Where you not conceive from the womb?
Answer me,you so called evil demon.
Who is your God-Father?
What are your want,
Tell me and I give you.

You have destroyed the north;
Take life like that of fish and
Slain a lot of throat.
I was told you are killing
Because of religion.
Was that true?
Answer me, am talking to you
So called terrorist,please
Put an end to all your wickedness
And let us build a great nation.
Am not here to fight you
But just for amnesty.
Remember the market, we are into 
One day surely we shall go home.
Reconcile with your destiny?
Think wisely


Details | Narrative | |

The Widows Hour

I.
A black widow hides
the hour’s count, in a painted
red glass, on the underside 
of her belly.

II.
Unlike a snow white kitten,
the hard shiny black widow
receives not one loving caress.

III.
In the pale moonlight the black widow spins a silver web.
It created a growing and binding spell-like enchantment.

IV.
A man and a woman
are dancing through time.
A man and a woman and a black widow
are dancing through time.

V.
I do not know which I prefer,
Us making love by a sizzling fire
Or us making love on the cold wet sand,
the black widow scurrying across the beach
Or the moment we met.

VI.
A web repaired a broken window
with finely spun silk.
The shadow of the black widow
remains hidden from view.
The silence
hanging in the web
spoke a thousand words.

VII.
Descendants of Adam,
Why do you fear this little spider so?
Do you not see how the black widow
splashes and plays in her bath
as naturally as the child within you?

VIII.
I know that I know nothing
and I remember everything all at once;
I know, as well,
that the black widow does not worry
about what I know.

IX.
Dark spaces harbor the black widow.
Shake out your shoes,
shirts, and jackets after they’ve been on the floor.

X.
The black widow’s shadow
encloses the stars like an eclipse,
even I cannot overlook a
cosmic event as rare as this.

XI.
She walked across the Nile
in crystal slippers.
Escaping, she never looked back
over her ivory shoulder,
the black widow’s shrill song flies
through the wind and echoes on the water.

XII.
Grains of sand are filling the glass slowly.
The black widow must be endlessly dreaming.

XIII.
The sun beat down while it rained.
I was not moving
and I was not going to move.
In the peak of the thirteenth hour
the black widow traced circles,
after kissing me lightly on the 
back of my hand.


Details | Narrative | |

Balance Within

Introduction: Even if you're tied to barely holding on, your control over will power shall pull you up towards the truth and success. But only if you believe up to all, that it's stronger than what you could be - that's when you balance the fall...




You may get old
Your memories may drown,
But your soul won't get cold
And beliefs won't breakdown.

Just don't you let go
As you never know,
Things you seek for all your years
They could be in your back yard.

Find the truth within the lies,
Fight your pride to end this cry,
Trust your soul; open the door
Balance yourself and roll the stones.

The one's you heart will always stay
So don't throw life out your doorway,
Life's too short and it's too real
Sometimes it's hard to see and feel

That's how you live a life,
The risk that breaks you down to bits
Saves and brings you back alive,
That's what we call the gift of life.

No matter how rough things might get
We get rewards for the risks we take,
No matter how hard or sad
Learn and value what you have.

Though, too much pride will leave you dried
Don't let 'hopeless', be your life's stride,
None of this will you take to grave,
Your deeds will lay, only your pave.

As you breathe in and do breathe out,
Make each one profound
And stand your ground,
As lies are just the fantasy,
The truth - is your ecstasy
And this will forever be plain to see... 


Details | Narrative | |

Boggled Down Aug 7 2011

Boggled down and dragging behind,
maybe I'm carrying around to much weight.
I would never ask but I am really in need of a helping hand,
vulnerable and helpless, two emotions I really hate.

My brain is always running in overdrive,
it's hard for me to keep things straight.
I can't concentrate and I lack the ability to stay focused,
I have alot stacked up on my plate.

The pile just keeps getting bigger,
a little more and more each day.
As each day passes  it's all getting harder to hide,
I might as well place all of my business out on display.

Each morning when I wake up and every night before bed,
I ask the Lord above to grant me one prayer request.
Take away this mental madness, I don't want it anymore,
so I finally can put my mind to rest.

I don't understand why me, 
why did I get saddled with this horrible disease.
After talking with the Lord it was because I was strong enough,
to be able to handle whatever it turned out to be.


Details | Narrative | |

THE DAY HER LIFE WENT ASTRAY

The day her life went astray
Just two days before her big day
Barely a teen, unaware of the battle soon to be seen
So adored by all, the first to be there for anyone about to fall
She now wakes up everyday just to find herself wondering why
Was it because of her past that she was destine to crash

She wakes up everyday
Simply to find herself wondering why
Each day the event becoming clearer
Like watching it unwillingly through a two-way mirror
Unable to stop the events about to unfold
He invades her mind, body and soul

Two days before her big day
She moves along emotionless
 Her sixteenth birthday spent in bed wishing she were dead  
Was it because of her path that she was destine to crash
Her life at the mercy of his will
Every sick desire she was forced to fulfill
Once so normal in every way, the last girl anyone thought would go astray

She wakes up everyday
Remembering how the were tears streaming down her face 
Believing that now she was a complete disgrace
To weak to fight
She survived that torturous night by knowing it wasn’t right
She was tricked… 
A repeat like him knew exactly what victim to pick
There was no going back
She then refused to let him derail her off the tracks

I wake up everyday
To find myself realizing there is no answer why  
No longer harboring any part of the blame 
No scarlet letter, no hidden shame
I get pleasure as he rots in an eight by ten cell
And I get to smile again knowing he is stuck in his own personal hell 
He who stole something so dear from me
I can chuckle as he will never be free


Details | Narrative | |

Not the Better One

She’s the better one
Beautiful and what you deserve
Comparison is not an option
A rock to a diamond
I make little to none shine
And she can make mountains
Upon a hill of grind

Full with hate of what I've become to day
Disgusted with the monster
That’s been created an atomic bomb
And I feel all the shame
Wishing to change everyday
I am a nothing compared to that

Perfect is what she is
Cute is what you two are
Monstrous is what I am
Killing is what you’re doing
Burning away every dream is what’s happening
She is better one
Wishing it was me
She is the better one


Details | Narrative | |

Be Like Lot

Carving out some
solitude, for
fortunes have
weighed against me
recently.
Tracking life's
linear roots to a
place just beneath
me.
Graced with our
unwritten moral
code, and bracing
for any violent
onslaught that may
invade my personal
space between now
and the near future.
Slicing up some
thick thoughts.
After sounds trade
my mind for sketches
and jots. 
A blatant repulsion
of all things.
Disregarding bits
and pieces of the
whole as i dwell on
an entire field of
feeling.
Soaking in Sun's big
gift.
Drifting in and out
of minutes and pit
stops.
Under-conscious,
frankly, less
driven.
It's this place.
It's my face. 
It's this hazed over
valley and this
state of ignorant
souls.
It's my late claim
of bitter taste.
But a simple answer
does await.  
Pack up all your
thoughts.
Now, leave, and be
like Lot.
Don't move your
neck, don't turn
your head, for upon
you finally lay that
violent onslaught.


Details | Narrative | |

TOMORROW, A BLURRED VERSION OF MY TODAY

He promised, 
he would not do it again
it was a once off thing
but his anger is so uncontrollable
it makes him so unpredictable…

now I walk around on edge all the time
waiting,
anticipating,
when it will happen again
he said it is only because 
he loves me…

I’m so confused
“do you think love constitutes hitting me?”
“do you think I deserved it?”
Maybe I should have ironed his shirt like he asked
Maybe, just maybe he would not have slapped me…

He did give me a diamond necklace 
to show how sorry he was the first time
but last night he turned on me again
I could not go to work today
I will have to stay in doors for a while…

I can’t look anybody in the face
My eye half shut and inflamed 
They will think I deserved this,
He did say it is my fault

Tomorrow, I’m going try to be a better wife
And not give him a reason to lash out at me
I wonder how many tomorrow’s I’ll see,
through half opened eyes…

*Ps: This is a piece I wrote a while back inspired by the women I worked with who was in 
abusive relationships*


Details | Narrative | |

The Darkest - Blackest Tuesday (Part ll)

The whispering begins  Maybe our Fairy God Mother came Sunday night and changed  Ma’am
Oh Dot we can only wish so , I’m a little apprehensive, Al  what does  aperentcive mean I 
asked
It means unsure , unreal piped Joe and Jim  Bobby why aren’t you eating? Is there any rat 
poison
Ma’am probably put it in the eggs Bobby don’t talk like that Billy’s woofing his breakfast down
Of course he’s Ma’am’s  Pet, alright, alright  let’s take advantage of the Fairy God Mother 
Ma’am
Becky tell Millie you and her will dry  George and Harry will put away Dot put everything away
The rest of you guys wipe the table and mop the floor I call wiping the table said Joe (always 
easy)
Hey Pet go upstairs and ask  Ma’am if she needs a fresh towel or anything tell her we’re 
almost done
When Billy came down we were all sitting at the clean table with our hands folded She’s 
coming now
Ma’am walked into the kitchen, wearing  a muti-colored flower dress that matched  to a tee 
her  parasol
Tucked in the bow of her dress  was the black rider’s crop which she always carried with her, 
just in case
Ma’am, you look beautiful, She playfully grabbed George’s ear I’m not going to tell all of you 
again Call
Me “MOM” I don’t want to use this today (touching the Ebony Crop) in fearful uncertain unison 
yes MOM
William go to the living room closet and bring the bag out here “hey guys look brand new 
beach pails”
“Jesus Christ” Did you say something  Robert  we all swallow our breath “ I-i said ”Mom your 
so nice”
Her hand never even moved toward the Crop Maybe Dotty was right, maybe we had a Fairy 
God Mother


Details | Narrative | |

The Mirror II

Having been up for thirty six hours;
I went to bed early.
Noting the summer lightning
through closed eyelids 
little did I know
how my life was about to change.
The heavy clock was not even 
located over my bed.  
The very short but violent
rumble going through the valley,
managed to shake it loose.
It fell sideways onto the small shelf
rolling over the headboard,
to land bluntly on my head.
All this was later explained
to me very carefully.
"……… Rod ! 	
Rodney wake up.  Rodney - - - !!”
Rodney?, he thought,
Who is this.  God, I can’t see.
“Rodney, Listen to me. You have been hurt.
You are very lucky to be here. 
You almost died….”and he interrupted.
Who was she? His mother she explained.
Why could he not see.  Again, your head is bandaged. 
“My mother?” as if  the thought just soaked in.
“Yes, your mother………. Martha Stanton.”
Confused he admitted he did not know her.
“And you called me Rodney”?
“I’m sorry it’s all so fuzzy…….as he went back to sleep.”
It went much the same for the next three days.
He woke up each morning to the voice of Mrs. Stanton,
and this morning they were to remove the bandages.
He felt much better physically, not so sore in his neck.
His head, a different story, throbbed steadily.  
When the time came the doctor was very delicate
as he snipped, cut, unwrapped  and 
commented continuously.
They adjusted the room light 
and removed the last few wraps around his eyes.
He saw not a soul whom he recognized. 
Knowing the only one not in uniform to be his mom,
he turned to her and said, he was sorry.
But he just did not know her.
He then startled the doctor.   
”Bring me a mirror - - - -please”, 
almost a plea. 
They adjusted the light upward and he peered 
long and intently at himself.
He saw the tear welling in the corner of his eye, 
as he exclaimed, that it seemed today 
would be the start of a new life.

For Catie's free verse contest

  


Details | Narrative | |

What Do You See

I found this old poem while helping to clean out a house that was vacant. I hope you 
don't mind that I didn't write it but it was too awesome not to post. Enjoy--------
          

                                   What Do You See

What do you see, nurses? What do you see?	
What are you thinking when your looking at me? 
A crabby old women, not very wise.
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes.
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply.
When you say with your loud voice, "I do wish you'd try."
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a sock or a shoe.
Who unresisting or not lets you do as you will.
When bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what your thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse, your not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.
As I drink at your bidding, as I sit at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother.
Brothers and sisters who love one another.
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet.
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at 20. my heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows I primised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own.
Who need me to build a secure happy home.
A women of 30, my young now grow fast.
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At 40 my young sons near grown will be gone.
But my man stays beside me to see I don't mourn.
At 50 once more babies play round my knee. 
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look to the future and shudder with dread.
For my young ones are busy rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm an old women now and nature is cruel.
It's her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart.
There now is a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells.
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and loving life over again.
I think of the years, all the few--gone to fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes nurses, open and see.
Not a crabby old women, look closer,  see ME.

This poem was found among the effects of a patient who died at the Oxford
University Geriatric Service in England. Author is unknown.


Details | Narrative | |

This was a simple stress reliever

Emotions
Kiara Lebel

Why do you need to go
Why do you need to leave and let me go 
Let us go
Tear us apart
All the fights and all the marks wasn't worth it?
You don't love me then you don't love us and you don't love yourself
I’m not crazy I’m just in love
I’m deeper than the average person and I realize what I can do
I might kill for you or even worse, myself
This is a problem for my health
You promised forever with no hesitation and left even quicker
Who am I to you? Nothing anymore
Because these girls are what you need
You crave attention that is not good enough for me, you crave it so much and don’t even realize how bad you really have it
But what gets me is that you're not lost without me
2 years and you're not lost without me
I should've known from the beginning when you left

I should've known......... I should've known.......

And I did know, I was just so blind
And now I’m dead inside and you don't care
So what do you have now, grace and glory?
Or embodiment and misery

I’m dead now......... I should've known.........


Details | Narrative | |

Encouragement From A Lost Friend

There was once a boy from a town in a city,

that always made my day of every minute.

We would always play hide and seek once

a week, and have conversations every day

and night, for his name is Sebastian.



Once separated, all fell from the stars

that held the dull moon. Though apart and

no longer together, he would always be

in my heart and in the black sky. Shattered

and broken hearted, strangers found my

path and for years became friends. For those

who betrayed and stabbed my back, I couldn't

leave behind my revengeful mind.



Relationships and friendships were said to

last forever long, but what would that do

when some left me hanging from a forgotten

wall? With no fame and no super talents, I

became strong for what life could bring me.



With the thought of my lost best friend, he made

me stronger every single day. Thinking that I

would be alone in the world, one single person

could change my thoughts alone, whether if

they're there or not. With no more hundred or so

friends to follow, I now only follow those who believe

in me and still have humanity.



Though still apart and all alone, I have encouraged

those who surround my joyous life than just me alone.

Standing guard to those who love me and to those

who take care of me, I live my life to the fullest

and to not make any worries and sorrows. With those

thoughts and actions in hand, I thank my lost best

friend to lead me to the life I want to live.


Details | Narrative | |

The prostitute

 
The sun goes to sleep 
The night bring its blessings
All sort of palava duely peep
To gossip and chat with earnings
Impulses push conviction aside
Just  a drink or two 
Will have them chase like flies
Need not be for introduce or justify
An engagement will have it tied
Quite affordable you know the price
Put it in between then last your will
For the movement long lost meaning
Without blame on the situation
With the mind left to decide
So insulted  so misjudged
So cursed for every action done
But as soon as it falls again
They will run back here in terrible haste


Details | Narrative | |

Red Eyes and Sinister Looks

Chains, hay forks, knives, and a hollow whisper,
become more true and sinister.
Halt in the middle of the moon light, 
and a waver image soon is no delight.
Voices run a muck in the head, 
so not calming you wish you were dead.
Gushing blood through the eye
not an image that you would rely.
Nails stuck on your neck with such pain
so your paralyze just little life sustain.
Hoodlums terrorizing people running a muck
did not really know they are in luck.
More dangerous beings are out their
to commit such act and with sinister stare.
Laughing with haunting echo's through
is an aspect of fear can imbue.
The wind changes direction to smother
the echoing sound of laughter.
The panicking state that you are in
soon drives a knife within.
Blood rushing out of your vain
a crucial part of your life dropping like rain.
Running without a destination
you will never reach anyone of your relation.
Sliding your body on a wall
keeping your fall in a stall.
Red eyes you can see it at night
is soon devouring you with little bite.
Changing your belief with tonics of relief
and it is to late to turn a new leaf.
Ears start to deceive the animals sound
eating limbs are chewing around.
Slowly your red eyes steadily getting heavy
is starting to take your life with a levy.
Dropping down with no attitude
and your life force slowly loses altitude.
Breathing comes not so easy
smelling flesh seems so beastly.
The change comes a desire
with frightening red eyes of fire.
Comes more lethal than the hoodlums 
your heart beating like drums.
Your hand becomes all fury
claws come out and your howl with furry.
Trance your in with no one to blame
a rage thats hundreds of centuries of flame.
Rising from a slumber of long lust
a animal instinct that you can trust.
Tearing things apart with no meaning
is a trait that is so deceiving.
Red eyes at night you see in a window
like a poisonous black widow.
Keeps you in attack mode of insanity
that takes all your vanity.
Ferocious emotions eating away
the soul that you had once betray.
The echoing sounds of loud thunder
breaks away the armor with sunder.
You fall once again to torturous agony
the feeling of one self is so lonely.
Shaking in the corner you are found
with blood soaked skin you drowned.
The night becomes day cruel in some way
your memories go in disarray.
The hunters with torches and sinister look
had parted way their hands shook.


Details | Narrative | |

Permission to stand idly by, sir?!

Please don’t give me your pity
Because I don’t need it
Don’t show me how you’re saddened by me
My own is enough for two lifetimes
As for guidance, only when called upon
Although I must admit
That a handful of acceptance would be nice
You don’t require my permission
To be able to say how you feel
So remember this one thing
I never asked to be who I am
Or even to feel what I feel
For that matter, neither did you
You can’t possibly imagine what it’s like
To fight for something that was handed to you
But I have to earn
You might think you’re in the minority
But you’re oh so wrong
The ones ridiculed for being different
Fearing to air bottled sentiments
Living, but not owning thoughts of it
Not looking to convert or be converted
They’re on the road less traveled
I urge you to let them be
Just as they do you
By doing so, you’ll set them free


Details | Narrative | |

Wolves in full moon

"To best friends and brothers..."


Speed demons, derailed
Monsters of touch
More prudent, more potent, more…much
to the dismay of a boogeyman betrayed
My heart sank when I found out about you
And I even died a little more 
than I usually do
You leveled the playing field
you level headed freak
When you caused me to suppress the rage
It made me die a little
I’m flattered by your insolence
You’re cowardice and weak
Each time you open your mouth to speak
You make me die a little
I trusted the lies you spat
Swallowed the venom spawned
From the fooler of fools
Oh fool hearty one, you poisoned me
And made me die a little
Crown chopper, flatten my head
I’ll help pull the trigger, leave me for dead
End this lost crusade
though it makes me cry a little

I will never be on the wrong side again 


Details | Narrative | |

Ellis Dee

Faces seem so familiar
Names slip the mind
Euphoric waves roll through the veins
Reality is left behind


So complicated
Sentences are to create
Yet so simplistic it seems
Contemplating fate

Ideas seem to differ
Shifting beliefs from before
Envisioning new perceptions
Now destined to explore

Pink Floyd plays Comfortably Numb
 With the colorful flashing lights
As the mental climax seems so near
My soul rises in flight

Nothing else can compare
To this powerful little sheet
Unknown to society
It is rare the two meet

Shadows cloak clarity of thought
Easing the ache of the spine
Ecstatic sensations of wellbeing
Exemplifies life in the refine

Explosions of pleasure
Roll in like the tide
Speechless from the magnitude
Of this exotic godly ride

Only understood
By an experienced mind
Yet even thee
Remains unable to define

 
Speaking has become difficult
Signs of peak drawing near
Gazing into the colorful lights
Exploring this cerebral frontier

The summit of this trip, has now finally arrived
Lasting seemingly for years
The most enjoyable feeling in life
By so many it is revered

Unable to move
Unable to speak
Now having found
That which I seek

Only comprehendible
By those who have been freed
Rides such as these
Considered personal creeds

Regaining mental capacity
As the brain slowly clears
Through the door a woman
Seductively appears

This day couldn’t possibly
Get any better than this
Beginning and ending
In absolute bliss

She widely written about
In literature, and various songs
So rarely ever considered
In society to belong

Held in total reverence
For the most outstanding memories
Only made available
By the lovely Ellis Dee


Details | Narrative | |

Walking to Redemption

Stuck in a place with negativity bound within it's Walls. I need to get out of here, before the phone rings with insanity's calls. I burst out of the door into the streets owned by the night. Shadows staring back dodging the lamps light. I begin to walk down the urban corridor of uncertainty. The workers of soul catchers carry out their shady activity. I find myself in the empire of danger invoking pure photo-phobia It's a small price to pay for escaping the mecca of claustrophobia. As I reach the climax of the spiraling vortex tunnel. I walk on tenterhooks as my problems funnel. Facing me at the end of this path, is a door laced with remorse around it's edges. The entrance to unknown stands out with a line of devoted pledges. Those waiting and queuing are the damned and the lost. As I drift towards them, I wonder how much my sin will cost. For I felt the weight of the pressure and stress, forcing me into the light of shame? For I was the puppet master, who poured onto me the petrol and drew the flame. My moment of selfishness was a cardinal sin to myself and others. lacking consideration, deprived of thought for my sisters and brothers. That self indulgent cowardliness, has lead me to this final act. A door beaten with the hands of the damned, regardless it's still intact. As the number descends down to it's final member. I stand there understanding my sin, bound to surrender. Reaching out I grasp the golden handle, and turn it to the right. As I push forward on the door and out bursts a green neon light. My chance of escape has come to a halt, it's time for me to face the jury's end. I stand by my plea of weakness and insanity, as into the court I descend. A skeleton of the peril court rises with a verdict and answer. The jury has decided I was overtaken by a vicious cancer. The disease wasn't voluntary but they agree my cure wasn't correct. My punishment is to fade into the man that never was, with immediate effect.


Details | Narrative | |

The Sea Blue Eyes I

Once in a while I meet a person whose eyes tell their story
The story is like the sky reflection on the seas of glory
The eyes are all the wonder of the world
It sees the future, past, and present
The eyes give us knowledge of the world and reflection
The reflection of sadness and weakness of each creature
The wonder of each individual being has a present
To the world who has lots of false images
To arise the moment of that one glance
To follow the heart in romance
Just the reflection that gather in your eyes of blue
What a man and a woman should view
Life is such a pain without stopping to see each eyes
Its like roses you have to enjoy each passion in side
When that moment collides with mind and heart
Nothing in your soul can keep your love apart
Join in the fun look in every eyes of a person beside
With passion and romance I bet you, you would cry
The luster of all the things to come
A bounty of life long needs to be given by just the wonders of the eyes
The blue seas reflects the different depths of our feelings
And it should become revealing
Come to your senses with ravaging hormones of lust
The sea can take you and even the reflection in the eyes of the person
The beauty is not held by one it is held by everyone
Such looks with fear for no relief
Is almost a dreadful part in our human nature
Beware of what can happen when emotions are held
Held to the core of an individual
No such thing is kindness when you find yourself in the Sea Blue Eyes
Calling in your soul by just looking
With ignorance you play around with such futile emotion
Gush away the fear and do not go insane with life so dear
The grasp of the titans comes to reveal
The evil within your heart is so obscenely noticed
You want the sea and you want those eyes to look at you with wishes
The rage in the heart are waves that cannot stop 
It pushes and pushes with no regret
The heart falters and there is only one thing in your mind
The idea of one soul to be with is the ocean 
The rifts that is trying to break to end the wants of desire
Cannot be trusted in a human lier
The beauty of man is destruction 
The beauty of women are commands
The eyes of each does not matter in the sea
Because all emotion and desire is given to those who are true
Command of a person is just one thing 
The desire to destroy is another
The Sea Blue Eyes will see no bother cause it bares it all
Even the utmost desire
To be continue.


Details | Narrative | |

Empty Woman

Once the strong, confident woman
She now struggles to remember the battles 
Battles fought and won
The triumphant joy

How foolish 
Believing
Hoping

Now afraid, weak and lonely 
Beyond emptiness 
Complete and utter starvation

Sad, unforgiving, unkind
Filled with betrayal
Unarmed for battle
Alone

Share the wisdom of her pain
Don’t waste it


Details | Narrative | |

Understood

If you didn't know it was bad.
How would you know it was good?
If you didn't know how to be sad.
Would you be misunderstood?
What if someone told you something funny
but you thought laughing was insane.
Would you run inside when it was sunny
just to get out of the pouring rain?
Can you teach a child to hate
who never had any love to share?
Do you hurry up and wait
or do you wonder if you care.
How do you make up your mind?
Does someone make it up for you?
Do you follow closely behind
because you don't know what to do?
If you can't think for yourself
what kind of message can you give?
If you always ask for help
will somebody tell you how to live?
Will you happily plod along
until someone tells you it's time to run?
If you don't know it's right or wrong
then you might think work was fun.
Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
If working hard made you feel good.
But I think It's kind of sad
that you never really understood.


Details | Narrative | |

I WANT WAR


Why we have missiles?
To get them rusted in some iron containers,
And to do nothing when we continue to loose our men,
children in ghastly act done by coward soldiers of terrorists.


Why we have army, air-force & navy when we don’t have courage,
To fight that bastard who is responsible for every tear of my eye.
I hate dying like this again & again after every ridicules shot of those
Terrorists, if they want to kill me, kill me before me but not after me.


My life has changed because of that hidden enemy, I get checked
Every time I go to my metro or library as if I am not a human being
But an object, I am tired of this life; you may not see the chains I am in,
But let me tell you, I am not free.


They kill me in bus, train, market, plane; they kill me in hotel, road, beach and
Lane. They kill me anywhere they want and I get killed easily and always.
If it’s only me who has to get killed every time and everywhere then why not
In a bigger occasion like a war then to find a bomb in my own car.


Enough is enough ……….. I want WAR.


This time I am not going to blame any minister, politician, officer,
Policeman or even my enemies.
If it’s my fate to live like this, I am going to accept it and fight against it,
To either win my life or loose it, bravely.


When my GOD send me to this earth, he didn’t told me that I have to
Live in such a great fear and uncertainty.
That means he wanted me to enjoy life free & fearless and going by his
Choice, I will not leave myself on the mercy of some ill-minded men.


I miss the song of sparrow in this noise of guns; I miss the smell of air which is
choked by the smoke of burning layers, I miss all the things I used to do freely
when I was small and I wish my earth would not have had to face these
days but I know life will never be the same again as it was.


This is not that kind of world; I would like to leave behind me for my children,
And to the people who will come on this land after me.
Its time to act, to do what is needed and to kill the killers before we get killed.
My patience has crossed the bar.


We cannot afford this ‘peace’ …………….I want WAR.


[Throughout the poem I- stands for INDIAN not for the poet]
………………………………………………………………………….by every INDIAN not only VG!!


Epilogue

After the Mumbai attack on 26-29 November 2008 the poet was shattered, he was crying, he was angry, frustrated and wanted to launch a war on terrorists.


Details | Narrative | |

Her Personal Curse (Part Two) *warning, graphic in nature*

I felt his fingers bruising my flesh, tearing me till I bled onto him.
He made me taste it for him, I thought this would be the night I died.
Panic seized me anew when he settled between my thighs and pressed in.
A pain like none of his blows seized me, as he pinned me where I lye



I began to fight him again, digging my own nails into his shoulders.
It didn’t seem to anger him anymore as he pushed sending fire through me.
He let me scream now, and the bed banged the wall, but nobody heard.  
All I could think about was my mother in the next room, oblivious to my screams.

 He pound his member deep inside me as I gasped and begged him to stop
I called him by his name, and still, his hands grabbed hard as he continued to thrust.
Some of the pain subsided as he took me, I must have slowly slipped into shock.
I felt his hot release inside of me, as I lye under this man I once thought I could trust.

Spent and dripping sweat, he fell down against me, crushing the breath from my lungs.
I felt his lips suckle my neck, as he leaned off to knead my breast.
I lay limp as he kissed me, I could still taste vodka on his tongue.
I lay there being fondled by my mother’s 28 year old house guest.

He hardened again against my thigh, while he continued exploring my body
He murmured empty words to me before flipping me over onto my stomach.
I tried to get up and crawl away but he pushed my head down from behind me.
I screamed against the mattress while he took me, preying for it to go by quick.

It was dawn before he left me, aching and soiled down to my bones.
I curled up onto the mattress after he told me no one would ever believe me.
I was stunned that this could happen to me in my own home.
I thought of my mother sleeping in such close vicinity.

She must have left and I didn’t hear her, I thought. I didn’t want to face the fact
That she had been there, steps away while I begged and pleaded for rescue.
But as I painfully left my bed to prove to myself that she wasn’t there to stop the attack,
I stepped out into the hallway and heard her snoring, the door left open to her room.

Passed out on her own bed, left as vulnerable as I had been left, she was untouched.
While I was riddled with bruises and blood, scars inside that would never heal.
I ran to her shaking her awake to tell her, wanting to be consoled so much.
She looked at me, still drunk, as if wondering how she should feel.


Details | Narrative | |

A part of me

A part of me is dying
There is no point left in crying

Everything is wrong,
and my heart has been bonged.
Im left confused
not knowing what to do.

The world has lost its mind
And now a part of me 
dies cause you never noticed
me crying while i lie dying.


Details | Narrative | |

Undertaking

In ventures dates arise and forth
Musky as tortures I swinging
       Quasi I view myself hate or enrich
Who by pigeonholed proof been
Of actives kinship thy bachelors
       Around I try within of ranged vibrantly
Indeed, handle as matters upon
the dressed encipher it dealt
       Tho doubts or widely inquiries
And sinlessly lo ways ...
In state did so hornily, so straight.
       And jealous by signify, foes smelled
up, the elegy crucial for her, and obvious
Culled off mine attends thy bachelor.


Details | Narrative | |

Lost Memories

Slowly fading away

Are your memories of me

Forgotten moments

Glimpses of recollection

Then disappearing

In confusion

Knowing without knowing

Familiar of the unfamiliar

Living in another world

Not remembering anything

Slipping away before my eyes

In silence my heart cries

Watching you slowly fade away

Loving you now like yesterday

Here I stay

Embracing hearts in reach.


Details | Narrative | |

Earthly Delights - Troubles

You think you landed on the wrong planet?
You don’t fit in with the (other) humans?
Hate to tell you, Buddy,
But it was your choice (and mine)
To come here

Maybe we had something to learn
Maybe we had something to teach
Or, most likely, both

I think most folks came here for the Earthly experience
Of solid matter
For sensory fun

Somewhere along the line
We got stuck
Like Smaug (of the Hobbit stories)
- He was attracted to bright shiny stuff
And stayed with it too long
Until it became an obsession
A killer addiction
Which he killed to keep

One of our unexpected troubles
Is bumping into Other Smaugs’ addictions
Nobody wants to share
And that’s not fair

Please note:
Nothing lasts forever
Not even gold

So if you realize your place in things:
As a Witness
As an Experimenter
You may finally feel free to donate all your toys to charity
And go Home


Details | Narrative | |

THE WORLD I SEE

ALL THE PLACES- ALL THE FACES
EACH ITS OWN UNIQUE BEAUTY
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT?
 
ALL THE DIFFERENT PLACES
ALL THE DIFFERENT FACES
GAMES BEING PLAYED WITH HUMAN LIVES USED AS BARGAINING CHIPS 
 
THE OUTCOME DOESN’T REALLY MATTER
WITH EVERY TRIUMPH AND WITH EVERY DEFEAT
OUR HUMANITY SEEMS TO FADE FURTHER AND FURTHER AWAY
 
 ALL THESE DIFFERENT FACES 
AND ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES
SOULS ARE FOR SALE AND INNOCENCE IS A VIRTUE LOST
AND THERE IS NO RESPONSIBILITY TO BE HAD
 
EACH UNIQUE BEAUTY 
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
I ASK MYSELF WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT
 
SO MUCH HATRED AND SORROW TO BE SEEN IN THEIR EYES
NO TIME TO RUN AND NO PLACE TO HIDE
ESCAPE IS NO LONGER AN OPTION
 
THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE GREED AND CORRUPTION TO END
CHANGE IS THE ONLY HOPE
 
IT IS NOW TIME FOR ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DIFFERENT FACES TO BLIND THEMSELVES FROM
THE SUPERFICIAL
THE DIFFERENCES THAT DIVIDED US IN THE PAST SHOULD BE FORGOTTEN FOR NOW WE MUST STAND TALL
AS ONE 


Details | Narrative | |

Guilt

Guilt is the word 
regret and deceit flood my heart 
as I look at my daughter 
and what could of been 
Guilt is the feeling 

At the window bottom she sits 
waiting for me to come 
it's not going to happen 
as my mistress is home 
What could have been? 

Blonde hair, Blue eyes
So patiently she waits for her dad
the one who she adores 
but does not know 
How could I leave her? 

Walking the dark cold streets
I see her face in my head 
Them big glazed eyes
Brings a lump to my throat 
What have I missed out on?

Into this woman she blossoms
making decisions of her own 
leaving me behind 
asking questions 
Why wasn't I there for her?

Guilt is the feeling
regret and deceit flood my heart
as she moves on without me 
everytime I look at my daughter 
Guilt is the feeling


Details | Narrative | |

Gossip Hurts

Idle gossip,
has no place,
you only hurt,
yourself instead.

Many think,
they know so much,
when they use their tongue,
for their habits crutch.

If they really were concerned,
for anothers ways,
then they would give comfort,
in the words they say.

Prayer for those,
that walk astray,
is what one needs,
if traveling harms way.

Please show concern,
and plenty of love,
for a gossiping tongue,
will usually get burned.

I am dealing with this very subject right now,
and I get so upset over people that are supposed
to have your best interest at heart, to let their mouth get 
in their way of seeing what they are really doing....sometimes
quiet is much better.....please tell me if I am right.....



Details | Narrative | |

Long Live the King

Silence.
My bow drawn back.
A deadly silence laid over the kingdom.
Not a sound has been made, quiet as death.
i hear foot falls in the distance, coming closer.
I press harder into the brush, awaiting the intruders.
Three lords and the King steps into the clearing.
My bow relaxes.
The nobles are mourning the fallen knights, what . . . laughter.
Cruel, mocking laughter.
The lords pull out bags of gold and laid them at the kings feet.
The kings servant, deaf and mute, carried the gold to the Kings castle.
His majesty pulled out a small bag and thrust it into the shadows.
A mercenary strode into the open, clutching the bag,
My anger boiled, he was using the money earned by knights to hire a mercenary!
More laughter, they dare mock the heroic deeds of the knights!
Why would the knights give themselves to such a pitiless, greedy King?
What of the families of those dead knights, they must need that money!?
The Lords and Mercenary  hurled insults at the spirits of the noble knights.
The King laughed.
Fury erupted within me, I let loose my arrow.
                                      twang-fssst                  twang, twang-fssst, fssst
The lords lay dead at the greedy Kings feet. 
Wide eyed, the King stepped behind the nameless Mercenary.
                                              twang-fssst
Only the King remained.
                                              twang-fssst
The King fell to his knees and died.
I retrieved and cleaned my arrows, then placed them in my quiver.
I thought of curses matching the Kings character.
They where all to kind.
None would make his black soul repent in his actions in death.
Some sweetly sour words sprang to my lips as I approached the coming dawn.
                                                    "Long Live the King"


Details | Narrative | |

Art-twisted Side

Creeks and leaves run along the border
Mayhap I shall see his face once more
I begin to see bizarre sights with eyes wide open
Single lights and colors rotating and evolving
Flashing in and out of focus before my sleepless eyes
Then the bees come out of the wall, giant bees
I blink away the bees but then I walk toward
our bed the window blinds seem to be open and light
is streaming in the window. Branches are waving at me and I
remember there is no tree at our window. I get scared, more than ever before;
the bees come at me again, gieant bees. Why is this happening to me?
Am I dying, having a stroke? Did the fevers fry my brain?
The scenes keep flashing and demon red eyes appear and start to consume my family 
but Jesus pushes the demon down and saves me and my family.
The morning breaks and I am glad...


Details | Narrative | |

Her Personal Curse (Part One) *warning, graphic in nature*

In a drunken stupor, I fall down on my comforter
Baby blue sky covered in fluffy clouds of cotton.
I kick off my shoes, faded pink chuck Taylors
And make clumsy work of my shirt buttons.

I slip an oversized shirt over my head, Bart Simpson,
And pull it straight passed over my bra and panties, past my knees.
Now in the dark, on my bed, I hear the door creak open.
I turn to see your silhouette, and I hear the door behind you locking.

I sat up, before you lunged on top of me, and smacked me in the face.
I tried to push you off, but a little girl is nothing against a man.
Fear pinned me down with your arms, the look in your eye was crazed.
I yelled out as you punched me again, before stifling my breath with your hand.

I felt your fingers probe underneath my shirt, rough and groping.
The straps tore at my flesh as you ripped my bra apart.
I tried to push your hand off my face, I was having trouble breathing
But when you took your hand off and I gasped for air, it fell back against my cheek hard

I stopped trying to push you away, tears streaming, afraid you’d hit me again.
I bucked when your course fingers pinched, it only seemed to excite you more.
I cringed as you raked your nails deep down my stomach digging in.
You stopped at the top of my panties before yanking them till they tore.

Panic sliced through me as I felt you unclasping your jeans, understanding swept me.
I knew then what you intended to do and my blood ran cold at the thought.
You took your hand off of my mouth and threatened to kill me if I screamed
But I yelled anyway begging for help, preying that you would be caught.

I was silenced by a stinging blow that sent me hard against the head board.
Too disoriented by it to yell again before you were done taking off my t shirt.
Through blurry eyes and mind I felt your eager hands pillage and explore.
I was smacked again for screaming at how badly your fingers inside me hurt.

You showed no mercy as I screamed in pain against the palm of your hand.
You only continued to probe and play, talking dirty to me, making me talk back.
Through bloodied lips and wrenching pain I was abused by this man
He made me say unmentionable things about him, while he cruelly laughed.


Details | Narrative | |

What makes real men

I’ve seen so much
In the few years I’ve been here
Some things witnessed
Are my deepest fears

Not too long ago
On July 26th of 2004
Two great friends
That I greatly adore

The first on this day
Was my dear ol’ grand dad
The other was a kid
And this kid had

A bright promising future
Just out of high school
And he always seemed
Oh so cool

Thing happen
Unpredictable and unjust
Yet push on
Everyone must

What is done is done
The past we cannot change
And at time this causes our lives
To be rearranged

Honor their memory with laughter
Do not dwell on the grief
Just move on
You must believe

I have lost men
Whose shoes I could only hope to fill
Some had passed
Because they were incurably ill

Some have died
Before their time
Passing in the very beginning
Of their promising prime

What makes a real man
Is not how he starts things
It is the kind of finish
He shall bring


Details | Narrative | |

My World

My world has always been a world of eternal dusk not so dark I could not see but not light enough to see more then a foot in front of me. There are other people in this world I can just barely see them. They are transparent just outlines of people when I watch them move it seems like the air around them is honey they move so slow. I have screamed at them them but they seem unable to hear or see me and I pass right through them If I reach for them. As the years have gone by I have grown to realize that they are not just outlines but I'm the one who is not fully here. This is how I have been living my life as an outline and as the years kept passing I found myself becoming less and less of what I was,slowly began to lose my mind. No longer trying to get people to see me or hear me I have been walking up and down the same road mumbling to myself for the past 10 years. But a week ago a light appeared just a dim light far off into the distance but a light none the less. I have been slowly drawn to this light ever since. It's still so far away but I have begone to hear a soft female voice calling to me. But I'm fading so fast I am trying with everything I have left to reach that light and find where the voice is coming from.


Details | Narrative | |

Who Am I by Toi Ruiz 7th grade

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.

I'm the only one
who can see it.
Scared! Terrified! Alone!

Dark and alone
wondering who's listening.
Terrified of who I've become.
The fear inside of me is out of control.


Details | Narrative | |

Defense

I have always been alone it seems. This life has taken everything from me all my friends have gone walked away into the light where I can't follow. All my family has left and wont tell me where they have gone. So over the years my defenses have been built up and are strong. First the towering outer wall, surrounded by the dead bodies of people that could never get through. Next we have the inner wall, with two guard towers at either side. This wall is not as strong or high but the towers always filled with guards and weapons to strike down any and all who approach. People have reached this far many a time but almost all have fallen here. Second to last is a huge iron gate surrounded by a moat of battery acid to keep all from swimming it. The gate is thick and has never been lowered willingly, the gate keeps all out of the city that is my soul and heart. Only a select few have reached this far and a couple have forced there way in. Then last within the city, there is a golden vault door keeping all out of my inner sanctum. These defenses have been tested and tried but never have they all fallen. So imagine how shocked I was the day I was walking within my sanctum and out of a puff of smoke you appeared without any warning.........


Details | Narrative | |

FLESH AND BLOOD

He is my flesh and blood
For we are forever connected
Troubled from birth, he knows no peace
He dreams of a normal life
Yet instead he is forced to live in constant pain

When I look in to his eyes
I see his beautiful soul
For he is slowly drowning
With every passing day he loses strength
I want to save him, but I can’t imagine how

I sit on the sidelines, watching the world pass him by
I live in constant fear and sorrow 
For he is my flesh and blood 
Wondering will this boy ever be free

Such a gifted and caring person
His brain his very own prison
He has never harmed anyone so why is he condemned to live the live he lives?
He wants to be normal
He DREAMS of being happy

He is my flesh
He is my blood
I wonder everyday if today is the day that we must part

I have never loved someone
Who I hate just as much

The bruises always fade
The hysteria always clams
Injuries heal
But my heart will forever always be scarred… 


Details | Narrative | |

REFLECTIONS

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have gone sleigh riding in the winter's snow,
I would have realized the miracle of the rainbow...
gazed at a sunset across the meadow.
It seems not so very long ago.
Forgive me Lord. I just didn't know!

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have hiked through a forest and hugged a tree...
spent more time with friends and family...
learned the lesson of the honeybee.
Unawareness is such a tragedy;
I was blind and did not see!

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have reflected more on what would carryon...
that which would endure long after I was gone...
thanked The Lord for the gift of each new dawn...
discovered the purpose of being born...
regrets forever I will mourn.

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh what different choices I would have made.
I would have set my mind on things above...
laughed more, played more, and shared God's Love...
listened to the songs of the turtledove;
for this is what life is made of.
God is the hand and we are the glove.

My eyes are slowly closing.
Something is happening to me!
There's a Bright Light I see!
I feel such peace...a serenity!


Milton L. Delgado
October 6, 1998


Details | Narrative | |

The Sea Blue Eyes II

There she is the false image standing quietly
She is just standing looking at a beautiful flower
She notices her passion of earthy desire
Something is happening she burst into the sun
I look up as her hands grasp my face
Her sea blue eyes gazed at me
Her warm hand and then a bright light blinded me
I went down on my knees and cried
The salty water dropped on to the ground 
I live by the ocean so deep
I do not know how to swim
By the thought of a beautiful look 
That made me shake
With fear in my head I saw those Sea Blue Eyes
I cannot restrain myself she burst into the sun
What is going on is it just the feeling of being left behind
She was a desire and now I have none
Driving nuts and insane what will I do
Believing such a image is a dream
I walk on the sand by the ocean with flowers in my hand
Raising it to the sky and trying my best to lure her
The image came close 
It pulled me into the ocean I was soaked
What a lonely human being I am
I grope the sky with such desire
I look pitiful and look anguished
What horrible feeling I have to pull the beauty that is nature down
The wind blew one day the image once more appeared
A young woman standing beside a flower with deep Sea Blue Eyes
Looked at me a glance of hope and happiness came
I reached for her and all of a sudden I fell into a deep sleep
Months past they had told me that I jump off a cliff 
They explained that the flower patch was by it
I realize heaven and earth cannot be reached with out a sacrifice
With meaningless thoughts I would wonder of to the cliff area
To see the ocean were it meets and ends
I was told a story long ago that the feelings of the ocean can seep into your soul
The trend of this story came shortly after some deaths
I was fooled the lady with the Sea Blue Eyes can manipulate anyone
Ladies and men, she is an illusion of the utmost desire
Blaming everyone human kind knowing they are lyres
The ghostly images that creeps everyone is oneself
Desire falls upon those who are lonely 
Believe of the unnatural becomes science
The Sea Blue Eyes is no lie cause they have been taking souls
Through century they have been taking souls for tolls
I stood once again near the ocean reaching to the sky
Lonely I was ready to disappear 
One day she not the lady of the sea it was the one I knew
I was blessed that day she embrace me 
I then fell into a slumber of bliss and desire
Now I just hear voices and I am paralyze down
A disappointment I was fooled once more by the Sea Blue Eyes 

To be continue.


Details | Narrative | |

There I Stood

There I stood,
Safe,
Taking deep breaths-
Overwhelmed with fear.
Then I took a step,
Stepped to the edge.
In a flash
The curtains raised
And you shoved me 
To my fate,
Because you knew
I would be disheartened
And back away.
I knew you were still there,
Urging me to face the music.
There I stood (again),
Wide-eyed and trembling-
All eyes on me.
My heart began to race;
My hands became sweaty;
I thought I would surely faint.
I retreated.
I ran and I reached, 
But I couldn't get to you-
I panicked.
You looked puzzled,
So I just settled down,
Stood still,
And tears came.
You came to me
With open arms,
Embraced me;
And in an instant, 
You pulled away
And my knees felt weak.
You ushered me to go on.
I turned and I faced them,
All awaiting.
I began to cry,
Until I recalled the feel
Of the hug you gave me.
I looked up, 
And the audience's eyes 
All welled up with tears-
Every one wanting to hold me.
I dried my face and,
Unashamed, 
I told my story.
Every painful detail.
They were attentive,
Non-judgemental.
All knowing the pain I had.
When I had finished,
They all came to comfort me,
Shake my hand, 
Embrace me, 
Dry the remaining tears.
After some time had passed,
The majority had left-
No goodbyes.
Few had stayed.
They made me smile, 
Reveal my laugh once again.
They assured me
All would be fine,
And, eventually, it was.
I recall, for a second,
I was not being addressed,
So I turned,
Looked back to 
The drawn curtain.
You were not there.
I felt almost like panicking again.
I couldn't believe it. 
The one who had pushed me,
Encouraged me all the way,
The one who helped me through it
Was gone forever.
There I stood.
Lonely again.
Scared again.
Crying again.


Details | Narrative | |

Dreamers

Dreams in slow motion,
Dancing in the lead;
Have you lost control...
Of the long planted seed?
Growing out of refuge...
The flowers in your mind;
Will you draw me a picture...
Of all that is undefined?

Draw them curtained;
Masked in the finest drape,
For reality needs not...
To find an escape;
But to see truth...
Behind these wall flowers;
Reveal to us...
The power of all powers...

For dreams bare nothing,
But hopes unknown;
While man seeks greatness,
To be written in stone.
In a day of souls for sale,
May you dream me perfection?
I have not a single hope,
Scaled in every direction...

Please rest young dreamer,
For we are all the same...
Tied to a faction,
Behind dreams that never came.
For your drawings mean nothing;
When we're all blind...
A sad proclamation...
But it's how we're designed.

This is but a moment,
In the poor dreamer's brain.
So don't forget the ending,
As we're inching down the drain.
Draw me a picture... 
Telling our future's tale;
And he threw me a dollar,
Screaming our future's for sale...

Before I knew it he’d left;
Running away screaming in his depart.
Who would’ve thought...
That a dreamer’s dreams could tear ‘em apart?
Beep... Beep... Beep...
And my eyes, I’ve just opened...
Shutting off the stupid alarm clock,
Realizing the dream that just happened...

The reality of it all...
Trying to put two and two together;
An idea by which to relate,
And changed my mind forever...
That we could all be dreamers,
Caught up in our own dream;
Subject to our curtains,
But never as we seem.


Details | Narrative | |

one second out of life

Where can we go when our eternal pain from the sins around us is growing. let us shed the blood and tears just for the happiness we look for, the dire need for a miracle, desire for redemption . 

break the bones from me to have others the path to freedom from the world. let the mountains fall and see the truth we were promised. Let's end this masquerade party , show the beauty and thge ugly of our trusted ones. 

have the branches help one another for a stronger tree to give the perfect fruit. words are the rain that comes down to help and to demolish what we are. may the mothers know that they are graceful. 

the fathers who stands in their place to support the tree. let the fathers who had ran from the sun live for eternal with the moutains on the their back cracking


Details | Narrative | |

The Waffle House Way!

Customers are like bouquets of flowers passing through our twenty-four hours.
Breakfast, lunch, or dinner all 365 calendar days guaranteed for a full twenty-four seven.
“Hello Sir”! Welcome to Waffle House America’s favorite place to eat!
Some say we are the closest thing next to God's Great Heaven!
We have a confusing language of our own, the blabbering towers of the real “April Showers”
Service with a smile that has walked the many hard-earned extra tenths of miles,
Nothing computerized with files, just organized by our own genuine unique styles.
Waitresses are serving with hard enduring time and each crosses over a mighty fine line,
Master grill operators optimize a divine talent marking your plates perfectly aligned.
Friday and Saturday nights the party train arrives blessed coffee to the many lips we’ll revive.
Regulars and irregulars you’re served just the same, pardon me did I really get your name?
Loud ones, quiet ones, and even the picky ones strive to come back to us,
Here we bring back the basics of being alive.
Scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, diced, peppered, capped, or topped? 
So do you want them “All the way or just partly aflame”!
Young, old, or different at being indifferent just being sane, 
Especially when the “Waffle House Way” is to say the first “HELLO”!
“Morning Mam”! Can I get you your usual or will you be having something different  “TO GO”?
Brief moments of insanity with the moods that walk through our doors, 
Thank God for every single one of those Jukeboxes!
The quality of service opening an eye to the sly foxes, 
We’d really be in trouble if we sold liquors!
Foreign, military, and even civilian are in and out, 
Our servers are like the gold stored at Fort Knox.
So what can we get you today that you haven’t already had before?
 “The Waffle House Way” America shouts!
 It’s like being home because that’s what we are all about.


Details | Narrative | |

The Darkest - Blackest Tuesday (Part lll)

Now Children the pink and purple pails are for the girls, blue and green for the boys
We are going berry picking down by the stone wall Mr. Bethel said we could pick his berries 
too
The stone wall off limits to the Webb household, Bobby, Joe and Jim had the scars to prove it
Oh, “MOM“, (coil in fear, no crop) Thank-you What did Millie say; Are we going to make pies?
Ma’am didn’t know sign language, of course we will tell her she can wear the number 2 apron
Dotty, George, and I started running to the end of our property Slow down They’re 
excited “Mom”
I know Alice listen you older kids will be paired up with the younger ones: Alice, George and 
Harry
Virginia, William and Dorothy; Joe Jim and Robert; Rebecca you’re the best signer, You and 
Mildred
Alice, yes Harry why did Ma’am say we could call her “MOM” my voice shakes when I say 
Mom
 I think all of us feel that way; but make hay while the sun shines, What?  Just let her be 
MOM today
Pick them ,don’t eat them Wow, Al ,that’s what Becky just said to Millie look Millie said they’re 
so sweet
You can read that from over here Yep Millie and Becky have been teaching me. You know 
what this means
Easy: I Love you too Where is George? Over there George your not suppose to be on that 
side of the wall
It’s sprinkling , my pails almost full come on George let’s go back to “Mom” Alice go get the 
other children
This is the first time since I’ve been here that we were all together, laughing and talking 
while Mom smiled
As we got to the steps of the porch the sky opened sheets of rain a bolt of lighting , a sonic 
boom of thunder


Details | Narrative | |

For Mark

His home is always
where he is –

Beneath the trestles
of clattering trains, he huddles
in the damp & sandy wind,
eyes across the ocean,
sandwich crumbled,
filthy in his coat pocket

His home is just
where he is –

Now inside a box behind a dumpster in the middle of downtown nowhere, 
surrounded by the 
bizarre aroma-therapy of steaming, festering garbage 
His home is exactly
where he can
no longer go –

Inside the placid, welcoming walls
of the house
where his sanity lives

~~~

He stumbles, aching,
crying from his
wretchedness,
crying from his soul –

His pants encrusted 
with what he could not leave behind, 

His hands 
clutching a desperately empty bottle, 
His hair in stringy,
unkempt ribbons,
slapping his face in the wind

~~~

He, trapped & terrified
in a life beyond his living,
seeks suicide
by public transportation,
wishing it could all
just be over

Wishing he could somehow
force his feet to take his body
into the path
of the oncoming bus –

But the driver
will not mow him down,
will not have him on her conscience –

She refuses his anguished gift
of responsibility
& slams the bus to a squealing,
furious, bone-shaking stop
& screams at him

"NO!

I will not do it!"

Sad, relieved, horrified, pleased,
he views the scene as
one more evidence
of his beleaguered, hated,
ridiculed immortality


And laughs his drug-indentured way
back to the motel 
which has a dumpster 
behind which he can once more 
box himself in 
until he thinks he can afford to
take the public transportation system on 
again, 

And maybe this time, he’ll 
find his win, 

he’ll 

be successful 

And never have to live 
inside these walls of pain 

(again) 

which he only knows as home 


Details | Narrative | |

My Computer

My Computer lets me down.
It switches off.
No Windows or fat 32.
It sulks with nothing to do.

Hundreds of files appear every day.
I delete all I may.
They copy themselves.
Soon no space will be left.
Such a pest.

No virus have I.
What can be the cause?
Help me, someone.
Or I die.


Details | Narrative | |

Bullying

Bullying destroys the heart, 
It makes you weak inside, 
Don't want to face the world outside, 
You want to hide from all the fear,
The tears you shed, you hold in here,
In your mind, the pain gets stronger, 
Overcomes all the love you've ever known,
To make you hate yourself.
Unknown to you,
Its not your fault,
You are not alone,
You must find the will to live,
Throw away all fears
Forget them,
And learn to love again.


Details | Narrative | |

Mistaken Identity

As the line’s listless structure leapt into attentive control;
It’s purpose for existence instantly acknowledged.

The double-tapered weight-forward shooting line’s condensation,
Informed of its instant transformation,
Leaps to the water’s corresponding constitution,
Each droplet acting as spherical asteroids of deception on the current’s rippling surface.

Instantly, a silent connection has arisen.
One derived out of technology,
Entombed in the cosmology of the seasons,
Originating before explorations in genetics.

Taking solice in a meal of two moons,
How could one resist this temptuos delight?
Emerging with swarms of life; Analgous in size, shape, and color,
Cleaverly disguised in the guile of organic structure.


Details | Narrative | |

The Legend Of Julie Faye

  
Her name was Julie Faye.
   She was a little runaway.
She ran from home, the scene was bad.
   Beaten by her mom, molested by her dad.
She fled to the streets she had no choice.
   At least out there she had a voice.
Just thirteen and on her own.
   Neither love nor kindness was ever shown.
No childhood life could she expect.
   And no expectations as to what life would offer to her next.
Panhandling on the street was the way to eat.
    But it’s a dead end road this life on the street.
Eating out of a dumpster sometimes was the only way.
   To feed yourself, stay alive for just one more day.
Little Julie reached a point where her sanity broke.
   The streets just too hard for a lot of folk.
On the overpass she stood with no good memories at all.
   As she climbed up on the railing I said be careful you’ll fall.
Well she smiled for the first time since we had met.
   She said I’m gonna do it, do you want to bet.
And before I could stop her she threw herself to the street.
   Julie Faye I’m gonna miss you, you were just too kind and sweet.
Julie why did you go and do that don’t you know that’s wrong?
    I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming, I didn’t know you weren’t that strong.
Well good luck to you Julie wherever your at.
   I guess I’ll take your bedroll you won’t be a needing that.
         Good Luck Julie !


Details | Narrative | |

The End of My Nightmare

The dark took from the space I lived
And it buried me deep inside
But I struggled within my own soul
Leaving my heart and mind behind

I saw an open space where I crawled under
I could see a stream of light shining through
But the more further I reached there, it was getting harder
And I was stucked in the middle of the truth

I cried for help without my voice screaming
I tried to reached my hands forward to freedom
The world was spinning in my head
I decided I would have to stay here a little longer

Angels surrounded me when times I am in fear
And I seized all that pain away
Follow all my unfulfilling footsteps
I would never get lost in the way

And so I found the light again
It was becomeing large as I move closer
The dark faded as I went to open the door
And there was when I realised it's over

In the end of my nightmare
I struggled upon my very feet
Trying to stand with my mind broken
I won't wait till I bleed

At the end of this nightmare
I opened my arms wide in the light under the sun
And I stare into the blue sky which i had longing to see
Open my eyes to the clouds moving east
I saw the birds flying over me
And the nightmare I fought through
And in the end of my nightmare
I had finally found the hidden truth


Details | Narrative | |

Restless

The natives are restless because of the economy,
turning to drugs, guns and brutality,
Even a good time makes them uncomfortable,
because beneath it all lies deceptions
and fables,

Restlessness is taking control of a nation,
turning good folks into vagabonds,
The lives that they have nurtured for so long
is going up in smoke before their eyes,
No one in power seems to hear or care about
their desperate cries,

Holding on for one more day,
only leads to more times that are gray,
When will the government heed their 
pleas and heal their discontent?

The natives are restless and harboring
thoughts of ill-intentions,
When will they be heard and given 
honorable mentions......????


Details | Narrative | |

Tax Time Blues

I am all confused about income tax credits 
Now you ask about something called debits? 
This is really driving me insane with a pain. 
Do I get interest at all for capital gains? 
What can I tell you about common stocks? 
Now liabilities and stockholder’s lock box, 
Is this really a case of stretching my brain? 
All this taxes take our money with no gain. 
Balance sheet increase, this just sounds crazy 
Income statement and loss, this is so hazy! 
It feels like my eyes are just filled with grain. 
Thank you the day is done and it was no fun 
Look at this accounting spreadsheet again? 
Help me lord, now I know I’m going insane! 


Comments:  This is a free verse narrative poem.  I had intended to make it a 
sonnet on taxation.  It was written during an income tax accounting class.  Input 
was received from several students.  Some thought it was really funny, and 
others thought it was very serious. It was read by the professor the week before 
finals and was very motivational.


Details | Narrative | |

We all stand alone

When all of time has elapsed & the moment for us will be no more
No, plight of fancy given hence to even ponder the ego
An explosion of sorts that marked a pulse on some plotted page
The door way of hope where no one bothered to offer your way
Through pillage of inner torment many will stand at heaven's door
With no intention of ever entering yet their will be w vast chasm to explore
A new exploration of that of content in nature

We have planted our seeds
Now is the time we will wait for the harvest to grow
Through vast fruition in timely exploits we will search further then ever before
To never relent in the place we will reach which will be in effect heaven's door
A given chance at which to humbly explore
A challenge to be made free is a question in time
Hope knows just where the stained glass window adjorned next to it's borrowed pew

To name just a few from the sheltered dormant of the chasm again
The given chance at which to humbly bow the head to count to the number ten
We must search ever vigilant to look within once again
Is their something that I had missed
Perhaps a fond lady that I was ever sorry that I had kissed
We stand alone on the promises of God
As we search within again
The given sphere on the oblonged gem'
Through portals of jest timely circumstances
We search even further then ever before

Through golden portals of emmense filled water that has been quenched to humbly 
nurture the inner palate'
Abounding in ever more stimulation,
We may need a break on some long awaited vacation
Then again to wander within
We all stand alone in that final day
One may never get a second chance at which to ever bow the knee to pray ?
Yet its all safe to say that it never had to be this way.


Details | Narrative | |

Last One Loving...

I got a call, I am to report for military duty in the morning..
I reluctantly tell my wife as she was doing her usual cleaning.

She covers her face with her hands and begins to cry.
I gathered her in my arms and told her I would be back by her side.

Holding my wife, I drifted off on the couch, listening to music.
She was singing and humming quietly to the songs and their lyrics.

She tells me she understands and shows her love and support.
Morning finally came, and she drove me to the airport.

We exchange vows again, and I kiss her tenderly..
She whispers that she will remember this moment blithely.

She received his letters, read and cherished every one of them.
Thinking of the times they were together and the essence of him.

A month went by and she tried every possible way to find her soldier.
She closed her pocket filled eyes and prayed he was out of danger.

Three months passed by without word of his well being.
Trying to stay positive but, in her heart was a dreadful feeling.

She felt so oppressed and worried her hands were trembling.
She was weak and weary, her gait was somewhat stumbling.

She hasn't slept, it seems~since he left.
She takes some sleeping pills and takes a long deep breath.

Couple of days go by and he "rolls" through the doors.
He looked at her paleness and begins to feel remorse.

His thoughts start to torment, right or wrong, was now confusing..
Tears fall from his weary face, his mind is loosing…

She deserves better, he tries to reason with himself.
Reaching, he loads the contents~placing the box back on a shelf......


Details | Narrative | |

Jonah

The lost and found 
all walk this earth.
We trudge along
till death from birth.

At the age of eighteen
the Lord found me
wallowing around
in my misery.

I asked for His help
and He showed me His love.
But when things got better
I suddenly had enough.

I was bound and determined
to do it my way.
My lust for the flesh
led me astray.

I never even knew
I was so alone.
My heart was so lonely.
It turned to stone.

Believing my life wasn't 
as bad as it appears. 
Lost in my addiction
of sex, drugs, and beers.

Stubbornly I continued
to live the lie.
Pretending I was happy
with no love in my life.

No matter how hard I tried 
all I could do was fail.
I guess I was Jonah
and the earth was the whale.

Battered and beaten
after the world swallowed me. 
Confused inside the belly.
of the whale in the sea.

I felt like a captive
and I had to get out.
Quietly whispered prayers
with a head full of doubt.

So lost in my sins 
I didn't think He was near.
Softly I said, Lord are you there?
And You said, "I'm still here".

No longer living the life
of a sinners neglect.
Your forgiveness is love
that I'll never forget.

Now I know I haven't been forgotten.
Of this I have no doubt.
Because the Lord tickled that whale
and the earth spit me out.     Amen


Details | Narrative | |

Delusioned

He sits at a booth and orders for everyone:
"Eliza will have a strawberry lemonade
and a salad, no dressing;
Hubert will take an ice-cold beer
to wash down his steak;
my grandmother, here, will have the chicken
and green beans;
and I suppose I'd like the duck."
The waitress responds to his requests:
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I’m terribly confused.
I see no Eliza to serve a lemon or salad;
and Hubert’s not here to prove he’s of age.
Your grandmother, dear, I’m afraid isn’t here;
and we don’t have duck here to put on your plate.
I'm sorry to say, mister, 
but you are alone.
No one is here with you tonight."
He stares up at her, baffled—
two tangled prisms absorbing dim light
"Miss, I insist, please bring me the food.
My friends and I have grown weary
from battle and war and we need to dress our wounds. 
Miss, can’t you see that we’re brutally beaten?"
"Sir, I’m sorry to say that you are not damaged
or beaten in any kind of way. Your clothing is bright
and your hair is all combed. 
You are still very much alone."
He stands up straight and sighs,
"a man is born alone and so, alone is how he dies."


Details | Narrative | |

Riddles

I’m not sad, I’m scared... there’s a difference.
You see lately, I’ve been having these dreams.
Weird dreams, and they feel so real.
Like they’ve dug into the very secret that is myself,
and turned it inside out.
Opened me up, my insecurities awake to be taken advantage of.
Like the stupid little things that scare me the most,
and my bad memories have woven together.

I feel like I’m not in control.
Something is going wrong.
I wake up confused, scared,
I wake up in tears.
My dreams are brainwashing me.
I’m drugging my life away.
Quick fix, quick fix, take this, take this.
When can I take control.
How can I take control.

I feel the effects, the effects of love.
How much it hurts me.
Distance is good, but I get so scared.
I have complete trust in you.
But I feel like manipulation is growing strong.
It’s my dreams, they’re brainwashing me.
I feel hated, and that someone wants me miserable.
My dreams are brainwashing me.
I know the truth, at least the truth I’ve been open to.
I know reality, yet I’m still scared.

I’m scared of a lot.
Being hurt again, deceived, lied to.
Being stabbed in the back, again, by a friend.
Losing control, that scares me the most.
I feel like I’m slipping through my fingers.

It’s cold here... in my dreams.
Dark too.
I can barely make out the faces in front of me.
Truth is, it’s how they make me feel when they’re around,
That’s how I know. 
Voices mean nothing, they’re all disguised.
They speak in riddles and in lies.
But it’s the feeling, the feeling I get,
That is how I know, I know not to forget.
It’s hard to explain, all of these fears.
My dreams have injected them into me.
It’s hard to hold on, to reality.
When my dreams, they’ve brainwashed me.


Details | Narrative | |

Break-in Upper as Thought

The cat disrupt her thinkable moments, by 
      attention thou needed.  She took the torso

and kept it hold from the breast by  
      all used ways, and kept her stand for 
                                                                                            
apart the opening window, in somnolent   
       in love instant glaceing is helplessness                                                                         
							
in nightfall terrain moonily lasts sky, 
     standing for in deeds’ anxious sudden flow 
                                                                                     
up fictions points then’ sinew not really   
      she moved away from the window                                                                                
		
Then! — put-down above rugs in blue  
        as faithful cat roommate, busing in breach

And ratified herself, at  joined her kitchen 
                     Baking feed.  
Now by! Blank went, her young mind 
                                                                        
And freed from images, in stages love —        
      In head a new channel, while, the nowadays.

                            


Details | Narrative | |

Love Blinded Him

Tears roll down a young mans cheek
As darkness rolls in overhead 
The pain is reflected outside his window
As rain rolls down the glass
His hands shake as tears mix with rage
As anger takes hold he holds no regrets

Vengeance Blinds Him

Rain falls on a young mans head 
As he walks methodically, 
On a mission, determined to get even
As rain rolls off his hat
His fists clench as rage mixes with hate
As the target comes into sight he never thinks twice

Pride Blinds Him

Fists fly from a young mans body
As he connects with his target time and again
Fatigue sets in
As rain still falls
His knuckles throb as blood and rain mix
Knowing his victim hurt her he holds no regret

LOVE blinded him


Details | Narrative | |

Innocent Child

Raping my soul
with your angry thrusts
of domination
ceasing to exist
of your internal penetration
and your violation of my spirit.

Lost and confused
my feelings and emotions 
became immune.

A ruined and battered person
from your violent anger
and negative power.

Keeping me prisoner
in my own cell of fears.

Sleepless nights
nightmares of your face
reliving those moments
over and over again in my head.

You stole my essence.

It was not yours to begin with.

Robbing my innocence with your sick
and twisted ways.

I was just a child who thought it was a game.

Trying to lure me into hidden shadows to do the same.

I ran away but could not forget
or forgive without regret.

Feeling ashamed and blaming myself
for something I did not create.

I was too young to understand
to heal from my ordeal.

Time stood still when I was seven
from my living hell to my beautiful heaven.


Details | Narrative | |

Depression

When the sun shines bright and the sky is blue
That feeling of happiness so friendly cheers you
But away from the light blinds closed like the night
Someone is lying curled up crying with fright

The thoughts that are swirling in this persons mind
Are dark and unfriendly a terrible kind
Life has a down side that they comprehend
That feeling of unhappy loneliness will it never end

The door bell it rings let them go away
Don’t want the bother in bed I will stay
This life has no meaning they will not understand
I don’t want sympathy my life’s in my hands

Please God give me respite from these feelings so strong
Unhappiness it seems has stayed with me for so long
I dread the wakening from sleep each time
That feeling of desolation it will not leave my mind

The darkness gives me some comfort although it may be small
This cocoon of self pity it seems I revel in it all
That’s what those around me think when they recall
The tantrums and the crying they say it is for sympathy that’s all

But if they only knew the depths to which I sink
The thoughts that torture my mind when I start to think
This journey that I travel this hell I’m going through
Maybe I should end it all perhaps that’s what I’ll do

These feelings I will have to conquer because no-one knows but me
They do not understand within the family
They have had a lot of stress to live with because I’m ill
The treatment seems to be working and I take the tablets still

Talking through my feelings it seems so foolish but then
If I am to recover and make this nightmare end
I am the only one to help myself with my councilor so kind
We intend to bring my inner most thoughts to the surface of the mind

The stigma that is mental health most people don’t understand
What has happened is she mad her life before her so grand
But that darkness that is inside the mind it has a life that is so real
Those feelings lets hope those doubters will never have or feel




Details | Narrative | |

Tempted Grimace

I locked the white door
And held my breath
'til I was lonesome
I laid dead
The speck of light
Overcome my thoughts
No intent of doing it so
I held my consort
I waited for sleepiness to visit
I stayed sheepish
Nostalgic as I was
I miss the touch
Ensnared by lost romance
Taunted by truth
It was just a twinge
Then deepened
I long for it
I badly need it
I wept a tear
'til I felt somber
The crave was perpetual
There's no control
I can't escape
How could I undo
Here goes the villain
I fell again.


Details | Narrative | |

The Falling: Part II

Thats all she needs.
She desperatly wants his strong, protective arms to wrap around her and sheild her from this cruel world, this world that has broken her.
She desperatly needs him to whisper to her the words that would set her free.
That everything will be ok, and that he won't ever leave,
Like the many times before, where she would lie in his arms for hours
just listening to him breath in and out. His steady heartbeat playing its beautiful composition in her ear. The most signifigant sound in her world. 
She drops to her knees, pulling her drentched hair from its roots,
Screaming at the heavens.
"WHY?!"
The heavens respond with a loud bellow,
shaking the earth beneath her.
She knows the truth.

Yet she refuses to accept it.

The pouring rain continues to fall.
She continues to break.

He does not exist.
Not anymore.
He never did.

She wanted it too much.
She wanted to feel love.
She wanted to feel human.
She wanted to feel the unconditional need to be with another person,
and have that feeling returned with equal amounts of passion.

Was it too much to ask for?
Is it too much to ask for?

She can not move.
The rain starts to freeze mid air,
violently pelting her exposed body, leaving red marks as proof.
She does not care.
She can not feel.

The heavens cry out to her, begging her to get up, 
To get help.
She refuses.
All she needs is him.
Who ever He is...
Where ever He is...
She will wait.
Wait for all of eternity if need be.
She will wait for the unconditional love.
For that unruly passion that burns in both of their souls.
She waits for the man who was designed to love her,
to need her the same way she needs him.
Forever.
She waits for the man who cannot live without her warmth,
her touch. 

And with that,
She slowly, unwillingly pushes herself off the muddy pavement,
permitting herself one final glance at the angry sky,
catching a glimpse at her diamond among coal
Her only friend in the wake of night.
The moon.
"Save me, my angel...Save me."
she whispers towards the sky, allowing a tiny smile to dance across her pale, desolate face
Before returning back to her throne in her cold, abandon dungon, her in lonly, abandon castle.

Feeling a new emotion she's never felt before.

Hope.

Hope shoots across her sky like a metor.
Shinning so bright, filling her with warmth that blinds her.
The heavens cry out,
Relief.
He will find her one day.
And she will be waiting. 

[.Because Falling in love, Is giving someone the power to break you.]


Details | Narrative | |

Situational Awareness Is The Undying Key

Disregard for effect
In the eye of the beholder
We sit in dire need
As the looks grow colder
Abandoned out here
At the horizon’s end 
We sleep all alone
With nothing to defend

The dreams come
But at what cost
When the lack there of
Has found us lost
The heart grows fond
In times of resistance
For reality lost touch
And with it our existence

But is that enough
To stand all alone
For solitude draws deep
Turning expressions to stone
The deals are dealt 
And dreams fell short
Where do I go from here
When every step I distort?


Details | Narrative | |

The Widow

What leaks out of the window pane,
And flows into the ground,
Is evidence of a widow's pain
That's heard her spouse's sound.

She felt his whisper graze her ear.
She heard his lowly call.
"Be safe, my love, and please take care
Within this gloomy fall.

I love you so, my dismal dear.
Please, create not such debris.
My soul's on the abysmal sphere,
So, please don't cry for me.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't died
And left you all alone,
But I'll see you on the other side,
Where we'll both be at home."

Her buried head, so warm with love,
And resting on the seal
Rose to see a cooing dove
Which made the time surreal.

Her eyes were wet with mournful glee
As she bowed to pray,
"Lord, please help my sorrow flee
And let my heart display

A sense of strength not pumped before
Through this old-aged heart.
And let my husband not ignore
The fact that we're apart.

And as I lay me down to bed,
I make this final plea:
Never let me lose again
Unless the lost is me."


Details | Narrative | |

In her poetry

In her poetry her heart shall stay
In her poetry her passion will lay
In her words you will find her secret
In those words she will tell you it was worth it
In that feelling you will see her tears
In that feeling you will know her fears
And in that poetry you will discover her hearts desire
The burning fire
The passion that flares
And that girl who cares
You will find her there 
even when she is lost
But to read her wisdom there is a cost....


Details | Narrative | |

The Falling: part I

Noise. 

Loud noise.

but it was not just noise, no, not to her.
It was the wild cries from the heavens, calling out to her, reassuring her that everything will be ok, that there is somebody out there who understands, who is just like her.
She emerges from her throne, in her cold, abandon dungon, in her lonly, abandon castle where she is kept prisoner. Kept prisoner from her dreams, her temptations, herself.

Serenity.
Bliss.

The scent stunns her.
Memories from her former life proceed to play like a movie in her memory...
a movie that she can not pause, can not forget.
She stumbles, -afraid to move for the thought that this magical moment may dissapear if she becomes too hasty- to her only escape.
Destroying the barriers that stand in her path.

Ice cold.
Refreshing.
The tiny rain drops fall from the sky,
releasing her temporarily from her own personal hell.
From judgment.
From criticism.
From the abandonment that overpowers her.

Lifting her pale, desolate face to the sky
she lets the rain wash away...
Wash away the hate
Wash away the pain
Wash away the lonliness
Wash away her...in the end.

She cries.
No one would notice, the rain unselfishly disguises her pain so any on lookers would assume that the moisture is just from the malicious storm.
The wind.
So rude, so loud, whips past her.
Attempting to knock the fragile being to the ground.
But she is strong, stronger than she thinks.
She is not phased by it's attempt.
Mother nature is kind.
The heavens cry out again,
begging the young girl to remember, to be happy.
But she cannot.
She can't breath.
She can't think.
Her heart stopped beating a long time ago.
Stopped dead in her lonly, broken chest,
and the heavens cannot understand why

No one can.
But no ones ever tried.
Suddenly, the vicious winds attack her once more,
this time getting a reaction.
A violent tremmor shakes her body
raising goosebumbps on her skin.
She barely notices.
Her imagination runs free, 
unleashing all her memories, all her former happiness.
They all consist of Him.....


Details | Narrative | |

IT'S ALL A MYTH

Hollywood is trying to cash in
on an unrealistic movie about
the Earth's destruction bound
to happen in the next two years...
how could you believe it, fools?
Doesn't God create it to be everlasting?


It's all a myth leading everyone to believe 
that's what exactly will occur almost instantly;
those fiction writers wouldn't care less
where you stand on this ridiculous story...
as long they make a huge profit and laugh
all to way to their bank...don't you agree?


Hollywood used to make great, memorable movies 
to glorify the name of the Almighty, that even now
make a positive and sound impact on all of us;
every possible subject has been exploited
from drug to sex...from politics to bloodshed...
Hollywood has become the haven of ostentatious riches.


I wouldn't waste a buck and stand before
a screen that shamelessly proclaims this lie,
even the most ignorant person wouldn't fall for that!
Don't squander your hard-earned money on stupidity,
and make those greedy movie-makers rich for
a motion picture that promotes chaos and fret!


The Christmas' Season and Hanukkah are almost here and the Devil plots in Hell;
they couldn't have come up with a better idea, or a more inspiring story?
It's criminal and despicable to prey on a gullible audience,
and force them to believe in a fiction that goes beyond any credibility;
it's a time for reflection...to redeem ourselves and get rid of pretense,
refuse to be brainwashed by the entrepreneurs who are awaiting their share! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Narrative | |

Hmmm???

Aloft in the clouds, I suddenly realized I could not be. I began plunging to the ground, which 
turned out to be a mirage. I could not figure out where I was but I agreed it was not here. 
My fall turned into stopping and this energy started lifting me. I tried considering this until I 
made two steps off of the edge. I start rising again, reaching a place resembling where I 
began. But now the clouds are solid, formed with the deepest emptiness. Hmmm???


Details | Narrative | |

A REVELATORY MESSAGE OF SALVATION

The Good News is for people
who have a sickness and need to be healed,
and healing starts with a reborn spirit,
but spiritual blindness won't make one look upward,
to ask for forgiveness and becoming whole;
the Good News can give you a new heart
with their revelatory message full of promise...
coming upon you form the Divine Source!



Who has the audacity to blame God
for not intervening in the world's affairs,
whose troubles are too numerous to mention?
Starvation causes incurable diseases,
bizarre and unrestrained sexual behavior kills;
state after state approves of the same sex marriage:
Sodom and Gomorrah lives on
with their merry-making mocking!  



And the same individuals who frequent
holy places, in which they worship their god with vain praises,
condone the filth and ugliness already tolerated by society,
making easier for them to express their sexuality
in offensive ways and disobey God's commandment;
two men taking the role of a lovable daddy,
and two women that of a devoted mommy?
Aren't they sending the wrong message to those tiny beings?



If men lay with men and women with women;
conception is denied the joy of blissful birth,
and the screams of babes, coming out of the belly, 
won't be heard anymore...what an awful pity
for children not to have mom's and dad's affection: 
to live a normal childhood on this beautiful earth!
O lost and uncaring people, receive and hear with elation,
the Good News with their revelatory message of salvation!
  

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Narrative | |

My angel in jeans

I awoke, to find myself standing in the middle of a concrete covered wasteland.
i could'nt seem to shake the feeling, that i've been here before.
but i can't seem to remember when, or why?
the only thing that seemed to remain,was the faint smell of a paradise long gone.
I began to seach for the way in, hoping it would lead to the way out!
as i felt my life's force fading away, i knew my demise was drawing near.
i knelt down to pray, dear god forgive me!
As i spoke a calming warmth came over me, i no longer feared death, i called for it!
at that moment i knew, my body and soul were no longer one.
my earthy form was but an empty shell.
It was then death welcomed me into his arms, i cradled my head down,
into the bosom of the reaper. i senced a great sorrow, flowing from deep within the dark one.
pulsing out from where a heart, could never be.
It seemed like day's, but were only moments!
i opened my eyes and saw only clear blue sky.
a light breeze wrapped itself around me, bringing with it the most glorious, feeling of joy.
I knew i was home and safe. turning i found myself gazing into the worn green eyes of an
angel. with a loving smile, and a powerful fludder of her wings, she was gone!
Clad only in old blue jeans, my saving angel, with torn and tattered wings.


Details | Narrative | |

Daddy's Little Girl

Her eye's are pretty with innocent inside
Her face is precious with curious trying to hide
Her body state's that i am a grown woman
The tight clothes and plenty of makeup keep
the grown men coming
Her every move and every step is just to dog on sexy
That man's eye's missed her face because her body
is screaming caress me
Before he realize this is , he's inside
Her body feels everything that her curious face was 
trying to hide
Those pretty eye's are no longer innocent
Guilt has came and made all her presents pastense
Now that body that stated to be a grown woman with
those eye's that was pretty innocent ; no longer can
hide her precious face with curious
That man never saw her face until after he planted that
seed and then realized that this is serious
Because her body was screaming caress me
His eye's missed her face but , saw her every move and
every step that he couldn't resist because she was just
to dog on sexy
Who cried , when her body lied
But , realized now she have to be a woman and this big
old world
If it wasn't for the tight clothes and plenty of make-up
he would have saw that those pretty eye's with innocent 
meant that she was daddy's little girl


Details | Narrative | |

LUCIFER: THE PROUDEST ANGEL

And there was Lucifer,
the proudest angel,
who envied God 
and His endless glory.
But Almighty Jehova
hurled him to Earth,
and Lucifer became 
the Serpent to cause havoc
among Nations.
Wars followed with destruction,
violence and death;
truth was veiled by deception.
Who could have defeated him...
if not Christ himself?
And because of Him,
we live with the vision of Heaven...
of governing with Him for perpetual ages. 
When Lucifer has finished
his kingdom of terror,
he'll be chained in the pit
with every soul he has deceived.
Is that a torture of eternal punishment?
It is worse than dying from an incurable disease:
with more acute pain and desire not to live!
Lucifer: the proudest angel..
willingly disobeyed his Creator,
causing rebellion and turmoil 
among obedient angels...
was he aware of the consequences?
No, jealousy blinded his conception
to foresee what was to come.


Details | Narrative | |

A Plea to Infinity

The Infinite Mind of all eternity
In all your wisdom you decided reality to have me
Of all I know about you, profit is supreme
Please help me succeed too in securing my dreams
For it falls within the functions you purposed in me
Moreover, me being a product of thee
Means embedded in me are the elements of supreme skills
Designed to succeed in the highest scale of reality

The infinite mind of all eternity
Everything about me reflects the virtues of thee
My bodily beings daily grow and my heart never stops
Most times I’m all alone but I always feel You around 
Perhaps it may be that if I call upon thee
The wisdom of how to carry my burdens with ease
	...will be revealed to me
Oh, how I wish this weight on my back would turn into wings
	...and fly me far and fast, to the lands of appreciation and rewards
Away from the dreadful past stuck right at my back


Details | Narrative | |

An Iniquitious Night Hawker

She knows him to be a destroyer
Oblivious of having made her, a self-destroyer.
With great passion she hates him
But gave herself to him.

Here he comes again
To make her do what she hates.
Fun you may say she derives now and again
But disgust is what she accommodates.

The only way out, though she seeks
For freedom she loves to obtain.
There stands on her way a veil
That make her shatter the safety she seeks.

Though she often hears a voice calling
Lift thy hands and thou art free.
She seldom tries
But her past keeps hunting.


Details | Narrative | |

Always The Same

Your heart is  a mystery,
as a canyon is deep,
the sunlight caresses,
many secrets from me.
Generous with gifts,
always something new,
where are your memories,
hidden from view.
A smile of betrayal,
reveals such pain,
always nothing,
always the same.


Details | Narrative | |

God or Gods

God Made Man 
Man Made Gods 

Yes My Lord 

Thou Only Made 
Adam and Eve 

See, how many,
he has made of Thee 

Thou banished and 
Threw him out of Eden 

Roaming Aimlessly 
he became a Heathen, 

Angered further, 
Thou scattered him, 

Drove him in 
different directions 

Changing his colors, 
even his speech 

Making Thyself 
further out of reach 

So scared was he, 
that he made a God 

Every direction he went 
he made a God 

In Every Language 
he made a God

He made a God of  Gold
He made a God of Silver

He made a God of  wood
He made a God on Paper

He drew thee on the walls
He carved thee on the rocks

Made mountains of Gods
Made rivers into Gods 

No matter his 
color or creed , 

He made a God
He made a God
He made a God

So where is
He at fault, 

O My Lord, 

Thou Only Made
 Adam and Eve 

See, how many, he 
Has made of Thee 




Details | Narrative | |

The Plague

It starts with a look.
An attraction,
a want,
a desire.

It looks good,
with smooth words,
and cool moves.
And you succumb to it.

It taunts you,
flirts, and
fills your emotions.

Giving into to your want.
You compromise,
you sacrifice.
Your time,
you efforts,
your mind,
and your heart.

Giving yourself away to
what is it you desire most.

It is not satisfied. 
It's hunger grows for more.
Leaving, to find another victim 
willing to give in.


Details | Narrative | |

Friday

Always Friday has been
my favorite day;
not Saturday with
its frantic pace, 
or Sunday with Monday's 
anticipation, 
but Friday with 
Saturday's full potential
awaiting, like 
standing at the door 
of Westminister Abbey,
not having any idea 
what will lie on the
other side but
feeling it will be grand.
But when inside it is
too much, too complicated
with its high arching
ceilings, too high
to make out the fine details.

When you were away, 
Wanting you was wonderful,
imagining a chance meeting,
a close warmth behind me 
and I would turn and 
smell your heat
not touching but standing
so close my nipples swell and
stretch to you with longing.

But then you came back and
Watching you drink
and watching you sleep,
I knew there was something there
I didn't understand like the
fine details in the high arches
of the cathedral and my
Friday dreams were flattened
in the dull thud of Saturday's 
lost potential.


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #18 / A soldier-form

Shadowy, now constant
a soldier-form marched out of the void
before it arrives, it is gone.


Details | Narrative | |

Never Ending Tunnel

Slowly walking down
the never ending tunnel.
A bright light blinds my eyes,
but I hear soft sweet music.
It soothes away the pain.
The light keeps getting brighter
and the music stronger.
But still as sweet as it was.
I keep walking down
the never ending tunnel.
I start to turn.
I can not go on.
Fighting for my breath.
Fighting for my heart to beat.
I'm back home
where I truly belong.


Details | Narrative | |

Breakthrough

narrative poem

It was in the eighth month of the eighth year,
when Ronald Reagan was the president.
I heard the loud noise of many actors -
singing praises, clapping hands in tribute.

Play-acting, cultured lines, memorized songs,
performed by men and women with spirit,
indistinguishable from sincere praise.
Drama entangled with reality.

It was the evening of the fourteenth day,
I had invited a friend out to eat.
A dinner and a show to celebrate
his retirement from a life of teaching.

The play was a homecooming church service;
it honored a pastor who was moving.
Though the scripted testimonies given
were heartfelt, I had a strange sensation. 

I kept seeing these same entertainers
in former plays as thieves and infidels.
Make-up, costumes, and props were authentic;
the audience applauded loud and long.

The next day, the fifteenth, was a Sunday.
Hurrying through breakfast, I bathed and donned
my good clothes and best vocabulary.
With Bible in hand, I  headed to church.

As always, the praise songs and the scripture
were rehearsed, the bulletin was the script.
The program even listed times for prayer;
I offered my largest bill to the plate.

My worship was a measly performance.
Should they had watched from a balcony pew,
my  non-church work friends would have seen me as -
simply another moonlighting actor.

At work last week, I had cussed out the boss.
Three of us sneaked out to last Thursday.
On occasion, I lie and scheme, even
have a good laugh at tasteless, raunchy jokes.

I left church and wandered in deepest thought,
pondering, “What is worship all about?”
An hour alone with God was revealing,
brooding o'er events of the past two days.

My pretense at worship,  hypocrisy,
disappointing to God, awkward for me.
A major breakthrough,  I just let God talk;
then I apologized for my play-acting.


Details | Narrative | |

CAT-ASTROPHE

She stepped into the blue ocean of morning, 
and looked up towards the sky
& as her gaze moved up and up,
something odd, atop a willow caught her eye

There, in the tall thin branches, 
swaying in the wind,
a still & silent tabby was 
curled amongst its limbs

She shouted to it, clapped her hands, 
her dogs enhanced the sound
but the cat just lay there, never moving –
its silence was profound

---
Knowledge that the cat was dead
slid slowly down her face
in bitter tears that came unbidden
with grief’s wet, salty taste

She struggled back into her house
through mourning’s heavy waves
& tried to ponder what to do,
and who to call to save

At least the body of this once fine cat,
to bring it back to ground -
She imagined how it sought its safety
then could not climb back down,

& how it sat there, starving, thirsty,
forever trapped in that green embrace –
She couldn’t stand it, went back outside,
but when she looked, saw only space

___
The cat was gone! Had played great possum,
just pretended to be dead!
And what she’d believed to be total truth
was just a story in her head

Then laughter hit her, exploded from her,
joy blazed throughout her soul
 
as the crystal blue promise of the ocean of morning
was restored, renewed, and made whole

© March 2006
RG Hudson


Details | Narrative | |

Ann In The Morning

Visiting Ann...

Wondering if words can ever make information clear in my mind again.

Inside I cry... for me and Ann.

Life, changes have taken so much... from Ann.

Retreating into the past, her Bridge to Tarabithia...
Bridge to eternity...
Bridge to a sound mind...



(This visit is so paranormal to me, I almost go insane temporarily, to get through the visits. 
Reason has left her on some days and some days she is fine. So sad and frustrating.)

For John Freeman's contest.
~~~Recieved placement in the contest~~~


Details | Narrative | |

Image in the mirror

Who’s that woman, who stands in the mirror?
She cries for help, but no one hers her.
The image on the other side,
Reflex the pain she holds inside.

She has a look of despair applied on her face,
As she looks at her body from head to waist.
Who’s that woman, who stands in the mirror,
Why is it so hard for people to hear her.

She looks in the mirror and asks herself why?
Because she feels like life has passed her by.
Her skin of bronze and her long black hair,
But deep inside she feels no one care.

She probes for questions that’s in her mind,
But the answers she can not even find.
Who’s that image in the two glass,
Is it my present, future or past.

So much turmoil in her inner soul,
That it’s making her emotion so hard and cold.
Who’s is this woman that I can see,
It’s hard to believe that this image is me.

You see her in public and could never tell,
That deep inside, she’s going through hell.
She smiles and takes the punches and blows,
And comes to the conclusion that’s the way life goes.

Written by
Vertie Adams
July 11. 2006






Details | Narrative | |

Nothing

When I saw a different world I never felt anything 
There was no one and there was nothing 
Nothing to feel and 
nothing to imagine 
Nothing to say and 
nothing to mind 
Nothing to see and 
nothing to hear 
Nothing to worry and 
nothing to fear
Now when I'm back to this world, 
I have lots of things to do     
I miss that different world, 
where there was nothing to do


Details | Narrative | |

Tell Me Why

Tell me why men and women go to war.
Tell me why they die for causes that know one has an explanation for.

Tell me why we rush to the aid of homeless and hungry people who are not from the united 
States.
Tell me why our homeless and hungry don't get the same treatment and our elected leaders 
will tell you its still up for debate.

Tell me why the elderly should have to decide weather to get food or medication.
Tell me why some of them cant remember their name or the last time they went on vacation.

Tell me why I use to pay for my gas with the money from my pocket.
Tell me why now not only do the oil bigwigs get richer, but now i have to also lock it.

Tell me why people that retired a long time ago are suppose to enjoy tier golden years.
Tell me why now those same people are working again just to survive and exist from there 
worst fears.

So someone please tell me why these same questions get asked over and over with no 
certain reply.
I guess we will never know with any certainty the answers, so until then I'll just ask please 
tell me why.


Details | Narrative | |

Forgive Me Father

Into the darkness,
where eyes can't see,
only voices crying,
"what is happening to me."
"Is anyone out there,
where daylight dwells,
do you have an answer,
does anyone care?"
Paper stacked up,
with no value at all,
vaults with guards,
behind these walls.
The forgotten word,
from somewhere within,
forgive me Father,
for I know I have sinned.


Details | Narrative | |

Mankind Ha more like ManNasty

Mankind is a curious breed
Peace and Love, consumed by greed
all the stuff we don't really need,
where our hearts should leap
is where evil seeps
so much so, God's guitar gently weeps,
We hold so much power inside
how we use it, is why he cried
humans looking on mutely while 1000's died,
An abbhorition of how we should be
I should care for you, you should care for me
that's the true message of humanity,
to speak for those without a voice
allow Love not profit to make every choice
then God's tears would dry, and instead rejoice,
for that would bring Heaven on Earth
not sold to cover debt, a receipt for your birth
listen to the 1%, so full of mirth,
We could be so very much more
all it takes is to feed and house the poor
stop those pound signs from raping the law,
all were born equal, all should have a fair share
those who want to sit in castles don't really care
they want their fingers in, every pie that's there,
not me though, i'm different from them
I don't see the appeal in a sparkling gem
or having a gown with a golden hem.

I wear my heart and soul upon my sleeve
conscious thought is what I breathe
Governance's wicked deceptions, no longer decieve
The Universal harmony I now receive!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull


Details | Narrative | |

Orbital Emotion

Am I a conglomerate of feelings, one meant to demonstrate the full
range of all emotion? But how? Is this possible? 
Daily to express the range of human emotion?
Is this human emotion, or that of some other?
This cannot be normality!  If anger, if rage destroy, then why am I
still existing?  If sadness and depression are suicidal, why do I stand 
in this place?

The range of such feelings, emotions, provocations is not fathomable by
any.  What then is the conclusion of the matter?  Is there a
conclusion?  Is there even a matter to be concluded?

If I am one of honor, why does any not exist, why is there no nobility,
no chivalry of any kind?  Was I bought forth to be an oxymoron?  To
show that one today with such a heading could not be so?  Is anything
vanity?

These utterances bring no comfort to the orbit of my mind.
They only complicate an already undeterminable cell of matter.
Why is there no comfort?  Procedure is followed, formula taken, but no
change, no result.  Am I so unaffected that no medicated solution 
bought forth will intoxicate me?


Details | Narrative | |

She Came Saying "Violet"

Who is she?
What girl there, do you recognize her?
I, I do not know who she is...
tell me, who are you?
"Look in the mirror to find out
look into these eyes"
No, no I do not know you,
just go away.
 With that; hands trembling, break
the mirror there
watching herself fall into pieces.
"But I am you silly, I am a part
        of you.
I can't really make this
          stop
but won't you please,
         let me out to play."
 "See, look;
          we
        can't feel a thing now
 you stay right here
    in this moment,
and I shall play the part
    of you
 in this wonderful show called
         LIFE."
 who are you though?
"Me? Why I am you. But you,
      you may call me Violet."


Details | Narrative | |

A Night of Silence

As I lie in bed,
I hear nothing
I see nothing
And I feel nothing.
I feel empty,
I am scared,
I am afraid
I am ready.
This is a night of silence,
In which is ruined.
I pierce it with my screams.
I cut the silence with my tears,
With my pain
I try to stay quiet.
Whimpers from my bloody lips,
As I touch my heart
The spot where I hurt worse
Where pain has no end.
Where I want to stick this knife.
Not the wrist cutting
Or the gun to the head.
No, it’s a blade 
A blade to my heart,
To cut off the pain
To stop the hurt,
To stop my fast hard breathing.
I pierce the skin
But then I stop,
I can’t go any further
Blood trickles down my chest
But I can still breath.
I touch my left breast
And I feel the blood.
I feel my pain draining
Draining from me,
As if I’m being cleansed.
I cry,
I sit,
I listen,
And I lie in bed 
And I think.
I cleanse myself
Now once again
It’s a night of silence.
I feel right,
I feel strong.
I am ready for the new day.
Ready for the darkness
And ready
For a night of silence.


Details | Narrative | |

Billy No Mates

I live a life quite solitary
friends? No, I don't have any
the stench of a loner I do reek
but, peace and queit is what I seek.
Down so low, where do I go?
When i'm in my rabbithole
more a rock without the roll
this hectic city's takin' its toll
all of these people in the street
yet no-one ever returns your greet
they just stare at their feet
pass you by like a piece of meat
their lives seem such a hurry
their faces etched with tire an' worry
they've got no time to spare
just pretend your not even there
some return a smile, every once in a while
but most run a mile, as if i'm an imbecile.
Humanity has gone to sleep
so much so I often weep
why most people are selfish creeps
who make me cry a river deep

I've had enough, i'm off to take a leap
goodbye cruel twisted world,
here I come silent eternal sleep!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull


Details | Narrative | |

"Best Friends"

How could he be so cruel, 
Trying to steal his best friends girl, 
Why was she such a fool,
To think he could ever love her.

She had it good with the other,
But she ended it anyway,
She should have realized he was a player,
Her heart just wouldn't let her.

Now he's with her best friend,
And he seems even more revolting,
He says it will never end,
But we all no that he's lying.


Details | Narrative | |

Despair Everywhere

Standing on the platform of despair
awaiting a train to anywhere
whether it's over here, or over there
no idea where i'm going, and I dont care
must be better places everywhere.
What a shock, train is late
even longer I have to wait
quick pint to commiserate.
The road is long, the path is thin
surely being this miserable is a sin
need to find, this happiness within
turn the frown upside down and flash a grin.
The emptiness that dwells so heavily
only recedes when rhyming cleverly
the joy I get, from the sentence I create
this empty page, was fun to decorate,
distraction in thinking of the words I know
gelling together to make sentence flow
open my mind, for creative winds to blow,
but when the poems done, that's it for fun
back to the emptiness of a life humdrum
and a downwards slant from my thumb.
My hair I could tear out, screaming I wanna shout
do I always have to go without
even though there's so much about
from venison to rainbow trout
I feel like a vegetarian in a steakhouse
the only empty plate, in a very full house
I know i'm a lion, but I feel like a mouse
either that, or an abused spouse.
The pits of agony, i do fall
not anymore, stand and walk tall!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull


Details | Narrative | |

Love Obstacle

What's this hill in front of me?
Is it another love obstacle? No it can't because I've been through one before.
A few steps closer yet it seems to travel further away.
Is it a goal or a destination, I don't know.

The sun blurs my vision for a moment but I can hear your guitar in the air and that
reassures me you're close by.
The notes slowly fill my heart with desire and passion.
I can hear your voice singing,"The keys are in the back by were we used to sit. You loved
me and I envied you. Let's start this journey over again. Just you and I."


Details | Narrative | |

Smart Woman

It was the evening before Thanksgiving,
so off to the biggest store in town I went, for a few items,
I needed to complete my Thanksgiving Feast.
Everyone was grabbing, and hurrying to get out.
I was totally out of my comfort zone, 
for I hardly ever come here,
except to buy a few things, you don't find anywhere else.
Then there he was, lost as a goose in a thunder storm,
his wife had played a severe trick on him.
A list he held in his hand for the items she needed.
I heard him talking to himself, so I stayed close behind him,
just for the entertainment.
Marshmallows, does she want the big ones or the small ones,
oh no, couldn't put that down, so I'll buy both.
Cherries, now where are they, probably way over on the other
side of the building.
Just then he turned around to look at me,
am I blocking you, if so I am sorry, but I don't know 
where anything is, and with this crowd in here, I can't
even think, much less find anything.
No, I said, you are fine, I am just as lost as you are,
that's when he told me, my wife played a cruel trick on me.
She wanted to come early, and get this over with, but I told
her, what is the rush, well, I will never say that again, ever,
and if I get out of here alive, you will never see me pushing a buggy
in here again without my wife.
I don't know how she does it.
I thought to myself, smart man.
We have to give his wife credit, smart woman.




Details | Narrative | |

Off To Work

Today,
like many a day before,
I packed my lunch,
and headed out the door.

For many years,
every week the same,
in scorching heat,
and pouring rain.

Off to work,
two till eleven,
how many shifts,
there is no telling.

Payday to payday,
that's how it is,
house payment,groceries,
and doctor bills.

Then today,
I got the news,
another layoff,
what will I do.

Sell the house,
move in a tent,
my little check,
won't pay any rent.

The American dream,
where has it gone,
someone messed up,
I have no home.

Maybe one day,
my life will heal,
as so many others,
who got a bad deal.

Out on the street,
just trying to find,
any kind of job,
will do fine.


This is not about me,
but for so many this is the way it is....
I pray things will soon turn around,
and jobs will be plenty.....


Details | Narrative | |

one fine day

she woke up earlier,
no alarm needed.
scrubbing, meticulously showering,
each movement a ritual cleansing
of the dark parts,
the soft parts soon so softly
seen & sought by darkly fingers.
a dab from the alabaster jar
in every strange spot
his nose usually goes.
slip the thin yellow dress
that won't stop
the warm breeze of breath.
ringless fingers clasp the watch,
the tiny hands holding
an hour between their meeting.
they will walk the beach today,
she will smile in the shade.
the dress will rest in the sand
while nymphatic jealousy
invades every beast in the glades.

"where are you going?" i asked her.
"just for a walk," she said, eyes probing
her purse for a smoke.
"want me to go?" i asked her.
"no," she said, "i just want to be alone
today, to think about things."
she was wearing the yellow dress,
it used to be my favorite.
"that's fine," i said.


Details | Narrative | |

Cutter's Lament

He was supposed to be my dad
He was supposed to make me glad
He should not have made me sad
Now I don't feel the same.
He should have handled me with care
We should have had a world to share
He should not have touched me there
Why do I feel some of the blame?
I couldn't tell my mom, nor my counselor in school
I couldn't face myself, feeling like a fool
Now I lose control when my urges start to rule
Will these feelings never cease?
Now, in the darkness of my room, when I'm all alone
Feeling my life is over, I don't have one of my own
As I cut my arms, I feel as though my heart has turned to stone
With the blood there comes release.
I have no future I can see, but go on each day I must
I don't fit in this world at all; my dreams have turned to dust
There is no one I feel comfortable with, no one I can trust
All my days are filled with rain
I press the edge against my skin but still I do not feel
Oh God, please make it stop. My life's been so unreal
Sometimes I pray, sometimes I swear, but still I do not heal
Why, oh why don't I feel the pain?
My days are filled with darkness, only I can tell
Inside I feel the shame and know I never will get well
In my mind a sense of hopelessness, my own private hell
As I sit alone and cry.
Am I neurotic, psychotic? Is my mind nearly gone?
Why am I here? Why do I need to carry on?
In this twisted hell you created, I feel like a pawn.
Now I'm wishing I would die.

      This was written for the cutters I've worked with, all beautiful kids, all abused 
by the very people who should have been loving them and watching out for them. 
A reinforcement for me on my belief in the death penalty. a slow calculated death 
penalty.


Details | Narrative | |

What was that?

It was a coldest night
I was feeling tight 
Darkness was there and I heard a sound
I tried not to bother and be spellbound 
But then I felt what to do 
What I’m supposed to do 
Then I opened my eyes, 
to see myself on the bed
I couldn’t figure out, 
as I was unable to head  


Details | Narrative | |

A fool rushes in

You say you love him
but is it true
or do you believe it is true
I caught him up
you don't believe me
you barely know him
and you are his girlfriend
what happens when
you find out he is cheating
are you gonna take him back
you rushed in a relationship
what do you really know about him
is he really the one
you rushed in too quick
I don't want
you to get hurt
so be careful
and get to know him
and see if he really is the one for you.


Details | Narrative | |

beginnings and endings

i go in the morning, 
as i normally do, and 
warm my cup of coffee,
robust awakenings to today,
sit down and begin to arouse and 
contemplate the day before me

after a bit, i move about and 
down the last of the cup,
then i swish the final in 
and i realize immediately 
and run to the kitchen sink 
a few steps away
...and spit out.

i look down and see
a dark form in the sink
unmoving, i mindfully think,
a fly, as dead as...day

with revulsion i feel
the solidness still
within my mouth bouncing 
across my tongue,
and glance again
to the bottom of the sink
and spy the second fly!

two dead flies i surmise
were stroking in my cup
in the romance of the night,
buzzing vaguely French soundings
between them, ripples expanding
in their caffeinated pool

"aaah, my dear you make me
feel so alive! so energized!"

"oooh, i too feel alive my love
in this cool dark water
with you...drowning beside me"

and i wonder if these
anthropomorphic house flies
really loved each other...really,
and would prefer to...go down,
together rather than fly alone
past one more night of 
speeding blissful intercourse

touching, still, it leaves a
peculiar taste in my mouth

© Goode Guy 2011-10-04

a guy, alas, a true story.

---

addendum:

four days later, i wake and 
find my cup in the kitchen.
a bit more savvy now
i dump the inch or so
left in the cup, in the sink

a dark form, forlorn, lies still
the winged jilted lover, 
i think, how  bittersweet,
that the third too, wished
to commit caffeinated suicide

now that the pot is hot and
a new day is possible

© Goode Guy 2011-10-08


Details | Narrative | |

Crack the Date

Guess what or guess who?

You shall sit old for I shall shape form and fashion your young.
Harkening heralds still laugh out loud bolstering it up with you.
You sound like a plummeting bee yet of all times now I’m stung.

Oh Really Now? 
Like I do not hear you?

If my truth is told then you are all that I can possibly do!
And poof! Your chord wraps only to get hung or strung.
You’ll still be silly but you’re just like a naughty old fool.

I know it,
And I know I know it!
I shall wait! 
While you knowingly remember to crack this once upon a time date?

Ah ha!

I scoff to my so be it with my most famous woe.
Obviously, you are late in my newfound state.
Now I am astonishingly confirmed as in lieu!

What does one do with the likes of one like you?
This is indeed my definite declarative stalemate?

I know you like I know myself,
I just know what I know I know!

So do check the date,
Or crack ye old mate.
 
 


Details | Narrative | |

Drama

There is just too much
drama everywhere I go
people talking behind each others back
too much fighting
what happened to the
respectful people
in this world
so much has changed
the drama is getting worse
why can't the drama stop
why does everyone have to fight.


Details | Narrative | |

Fear

I have fear
of walking down the street
afraid of everybody
who comes near
fear is what's wrong
I can't trust anyone
I am afraid to go to work
but I go anyway
I finally learned
how to deal with my fear.


Details | Narrative | |

Knowing The Truth

I watched the sunshine,
fade from your days,
as something so secret,
was stealing you away.

Uneducated, and clueless,
I brushed it aside,
not realizing,
you could have died.

Friends are amazing,
they see what we hide,
then gently confront,
with tears in their eyes.

Knowing the truth,
was the first big step,
I had to admit it,
before you could be helped.

The struggle was hard,
weeks turned into months,
and for days you disappeared,
without calling once.

Then one day,
God answered my prayers,
performing a miracle,
with you in His care.

The love of our Father,
is always here,
but sometimes we are blinded,
by unknown fears.


Details | Narrative | |

The Chase

   Speed, adrenaline, the rush and wind.
Cheeks stinging, hair flying, cold skin.
   Why am I running?
From who or what?
   I can't recall, the rush makes me stop, not my feet, but my mind.
Thoughts that flow out through the passing time.
   Breathing as if no air will ever appear.
The magical surrounding of stars and trees, along with street light rushing by me.
   Reaching out to touch, the never staying stranger.
It gets dark, not just any dark, but as if a black hole.
   It wraps its self around me, engulfing my essence.
Shadows chase after me.
   Not to scare, but to make me aware.
The run becomes an endless abyss.
   What am I running from?
Is it my unforgettable past?
   Maybe its the undetermined future.
Am I being chased?
   I see nothing, but what stands befor me.
Longing to reach my goal.
   Can you see now?
Its not a chase, but a simple desire to run.
   To run for fun.
To enjoy the moon and stars.
   No houses or cars.
A desire like nothing else, to be by myself.
   My head is humming and my heart is thumping.


Details | Narrative | |

Bad Days

 I'm in a messed up kind of mood and it was one of 
 those days
 Where I realize that I have no luck but in all the
 worst ways
 The husband that's never home, and the inlaws that
 always are
 What is family anyway, just people who will scar
 It goes back to childhood really, I always just 
 came last
 What am I really saying, that it goes back to my 
 past 
 But the truth of the matter is, I wasn't well liked
 anyway
 Always the second best and not first asked to play
 Such a young age when I put the wall on my heart
 Because of childhood lost and the family torn apart
 Never wanting to learn, and not trying to succeed
 But I played a good role at pretending to be happy
 Just going day to day, living a crazy life
 With every passing second just thinking I would die
 All these bad things seemed to happen and I seemed to 
 only cry
 Like I was born with too many feelings, and I had to
 wonder why
 Always seeming to suffer, and it gets so hard to live
 Because the feelings that are lost, it makes me scared
 to give
 Maybe someone will notice, maybe they will see
 That there really are some good pieces of me


Details | Narrative | |

Of My Despair



In the darkness
Of my despair
I wondered
Where I had gone
The mirror
Having no answers
For me
Where I looked
Only to find
Wistful eyes
Wistful for what?
The man I love
Or
Myself?


Details | Narrative | |

Our Right

Under the vines,
of heavy ruins,
comes much regret,
of other's doings.
Give it away,
just spend, spend, spend,
when it's all gone,
what then.
Borrow more,
get on your knees,
they are probably tired,
of our many needs.
Foolish, and carefree,
falling fast,
many told them,
this can't last.
Blind as bats,
and dumb as dirt,
now look at the people,
they have hurt.
Things change fast,
just blink your eyes,
and cover your ears,
here comes more lies.
Clean fresh air,
is what we need,
let goodness prevail,
exit the greed.
We can do it,
we know what's right,
we must speak up,
that is our right.
If money could talk,
of where it's been,
another nightmare,
begins.


Details | Narrative | |

Shipped Away

Lost in a world
I do not belong in.
No one cares to understand
what I am going through.
So they ship me away.

Away to a place
where I am asked to talk.
My feelings,
my fears,
my life.

My feelings are please let me go.
My fears are of you.
My life has ended...
since they shipped me away.


Details | Narrative | |

The Friendship of Night

There are some days when night crawls in
and I find myself afraid
and alone.
Darkness gives way to darkness
when I open my eyes,
the light has left your eyes
so what is leading me home now?
Home, home, home, what is home?
Shadowy tendrils grip my wrists
burning along the scars
ghost pains;
I tremble, shake, trying to keep my will firm
but inside I can feel it building up,
and the monster howls at the bars of his cage
she complies willing to open the door
and the shaking intensifies.
Her voice continues to whisper in my mind
outside I suffer the silence
night remains dark glass around me,
I know what letting him out will mean
I beg my mind elsewhere
but feeding the fire my memories turn to him
and the monster and she get stronger in my distress.
"Please hold me," I beg,
but the darkness has no hands to offer solace with
simply encompassing me with nothingness
I spoke to nothing,
all around
and I continue longing.
Until the build up leads to eruption
a silent scream tearing away at my vocal chords 
with the pressure
of silence,
weighing more to stay silent
then to simply surrender to the scream.
In my moment of breaking she slips in
opening the door to the cage
the monster begins to plunder through my veins
longing to get to the surface
and to taste blood.
One, two three, four, five, six
white lines from two wrists
and our flesh is smiling back at us
the monster has taken his fill
of torn skin, and blood.
I sink below to the static numb
mixed black and white with the hue of red along the edges,
until tired, I surrender to her
allowing her complete control
she smiles, my lips turn upward
and she slowly rises, from the gore.
Back into the quiet night.


Details | Narrative | |

Lesson 101

You don't have no idea of what I'm going through
I've been through so many trials and tribulations
So don't even pretend or even tell me that you do
I've had my heartaches and many nights of frustration

I've soared and seen my highest high
But been crushed down to my lowest low
I know God got something for me in the sky
And I have many more places to go 

People continue to doubt me time and time again 
But I don't have to prove myself to anybody else just myself and I can win

Oh how I wish people understood me better, 
But it seem I have not yet found none
My life is not a fairytail at all

Welcome to Misunderstood Lesson 101


Details | Narrative | |

I use to miss you

I use to miss you, but now I don't
You seldom cross my mind
I'm sure it's you, but you I don't want
Thought it was gonna be just you and I
Man wasn't I crazy to think we could survive pass the lies
Tried to fix something that was broken in you
Never saw the pain & trouble I was putting myself through
To experience something is to live and learn
To enjoy love with someone to me, will be well earned
Letting you go was priceless
I use to wonder if you thought about me
If you'd show you're self approved
Take that next move
Step up and be a man
You know, do all you can
Obviously it was just me
That wanted it to be
You and me far reached, silly of me!
I use to miss you, but now I dont
You seldom cross my mind, I'm sure it's you but you I dont want!


Details | Narrative | |

Down On Wall Street

I pray for my country,
and all who call her home,
she is so beautiful,
but smothering from all the wrong.
Some have taken,
and not given back,
their greed is the reason,
she is in a crack.
Once so strong,
people had honor,
but not today,
they just take more from her.
All their spending,
is never enough,
hoarding their stash,
and buying expensive stuff.
Some don't have,
enough to eat,
but betcha they do,
down on Wall Street.
Please bail us out,
we are losing our ---
if you don't,
everything will crash.
Working people,
start working  more,
they'll waste that away,
and scream for more.
Tax us to death,
until we turn blue,
and tell us more lies,
they are saving me, and you.


Details | Narrative | |

I am

I am inflection
Poisoned pawn of perception
The Black Hand of persuasion
Twisting pallid pillars of affluence
Mercurial marble garlands
Plotting in political repose
I am invention
Aberration of anger
Neurosis of Nero
Ignited incense of Roman ruin
Human torches of venomous vapor
Breathing betrayal’s mushrooming rancor 
I am wrath
Sword of Damocles
Shadowed fate of mirrored steel
Forged in sweaty palms of cold conviction
Serpents of Cesar 
Striking slumbering senses of state
I am volition
Harbinger of history
Crux of Cicero's sedition
Hiding in Everyman’s reflection
An assassin of contention
Wearing a sentence of death


Details | Narrative | |

The Last Roll Call

Get ready,
it's here,
like a thief,
hidden so near.
Into our homes,
taking our dreams,
something is wrong.
Give, give, give,
what we don't have,
sure,
we're mad.
Taking for granted,
time heals all,
but in the meantime,
our economy will fall.
Trying to get back,
what we once had,
will be just a memory,
how sad.
Starting all over,
with the clothes on our back,
while greed is dominate,
their band aid attack.
The eye of a needle,
is very small,
and the time is near,
for the last roll call.


Details | Narrative | |

Quote

I passed the test
But failed
I ran the mile
But walked
I screamed
But remained unheard
I was quoted


Details | Narrative | |

Enough is enough Mr. J.J.

  

This is dedicated to a one Mr. J.J.
    Enough is enough already today.
 Save a few for tomorrow,
     As we bow our heads in sorrow.
Didn’t your momma ever teach you about a thing called sharing,
      Space them out and make some good friends who’s hearts will be loyal and 
caring.
What’s the deal anyway
       Or you running out of time and if that’s the case then go ahead it is okay.
But if you’re just being greedy then shame on you,
      Because other people would like to post a poem or two.


Details | Narrative | |

UNTITLED

When she returned back from Chicago
she wasn't quite the same woman,
She returned having dark secrets of her own
secrets that she's not revealing.
Her husband was back in Alabama
having the time of his life,
It was though he'd forgotten
that he even had a wife.
The old ball and chain was finally gone
he felt so footloose and fancy free,
But he dreaded the day that she came back home
he'd wished that she'd once again leave.
People seem to think everything's okay between them
considering in public they're always showing affection,
But the people don't know the true story about them
on their part it's just merely acting.
She just don't know that while she was away
he was fooling around with his ex,
And over in their home the ex did stay
playing the role of good wifey for a minute.
What he don't know is that while in Chicago
she'd found the man of her dreams,
And pretty soon she's making plans of returning back to Chicago
just to be once again with the man of her dreams.
Apparently, they're both keeping dark secrets
that either one doesn't want to know,
Eventually, in due time there's going to be a revealing
and over will be the charade and show.


Details | Narrative | |

The numb arm

My arm is getting numb with every slice.

I'm standing in a pile of blood.

I am thinking if i need to quit.

If i need to but the blade down.

I can't feel my arm,

or the warm tears that are hitting my arm.

All I see is the blood all over the floor and my arm.

All I feel and the warm tears going down my face.


Details | Narrative | |

Crow

It all started with the fall of our great towers
We lost our own citizens to a small group of cowards
For those people that died, we honored them with our flowers

We sent troops over to fight in foreign land
To find out who ordered the command, that brought our country so much sorrow
And the fear of what would come tomorrow

Our loved ones have been fighting for months on end
Fighting the enemy who brought us to defend, our nation who fear’s and cries 
because of them

Why has it come to this?
Years of conflict and days of pain
Our soldiers are still fighting, but in who’s name?

This conflict has had nothing to show except for our dead
Who lay to rest in eternity’s bed
Forever lost with nothing we can do

We look at our leader and say “It’s all because of you”
Are feeling have brought us to hate our own kind
We as a nation can not see past our own bind

Throughout all this agony and pain, 
Our troops still fight from morning to night

They fight for what they know
Will eventually lead them to the sought after crow

The crow of disaster, the crow of pain
The evil man that brought us this shame


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #247 / Chad

“Chad deserves a round of applause!”
And more applause!
And more applause!
And a standing ovation!
And giggles get passed around!


Details | Narrative | |

Confounded

Regaining a confident spirit, as positivity blossoms within.
The utter sense of a rut has vanished, the charismatic advanceman is
back in control.
Waiting to tackle any and every obstacle with urgency and admirable
aggressiveness.
Feening for opportunity to make his voice be heard, to speak out above
all others.

But just then timidity grips his core, he can utter no word.
Panting, gasping for a breath...why is such a change so rapid?
Confused, all are waiting for the aggressive natured potentate to
arrive, but he is no more.
Replaced by a gentle mild mannered individual, he lies in the company
of beast-like characters...waiting to envelope him.

He withdraws from the situation, doubting himself and his abilities.
His doubts, his motives, are all called into question.  What has
happened to the mind and heart of such a respected obelisk-like figure?

He used to dwell by the belief of trusting himself when doubted and
reviled by all others.
But now when doubting himself, what doctrine is to be of a consolation?
 
Withdrawing...fear gripping...there seems to be no reflective insight,
no thinking or wishing of solution.
Only debilitating doubt and an utter dread of the day to be dawned.



Details | Narrative | |

The Night of the Moon

It's the night of the moon
and though it's not in my sight.
The magic will be here soon.
The full moon takes the stage tonight.

I feel as low as the tide. 
The dark clouds set the tone.
Watching waves and sand collide.
I walk the beach all alone.

The clouds are fighting the sun.
They can't keep the bright light behind.
Sunset and beauty become one.
Doubt and hope crowd my mind.

Brilliant hues of orange,pink,and red
contrasting with clouds dark and gray
The sun paints a picture before bed
and then takes the painting away.

Splashing way out there in the sea.
Winking stars playfully laughing out loud.
I wonder,how this can be?
The night wont carry a cloud.

Where have all the clouds gone?
They've been plucked out of the sky.
The battle with the sun was been won.
I question not how, only why?

There's a bright glow in the west.
The curtain goes up for the show.
Dancing lights on the water are next.
Slowly rising the moon seems to grow.

Sometimes it's such a spiritual thing.
When nature reveals what it can truly do.
I can almost hear this moon sing.
So extravagant, it must be alive too.

My memory goes back to a time.
When the moon stole the show like this. 
I was with a girl that was so fine
and remembered that,that night we kissed.

But my memories are what had me down. 
I can't remember too many good.
There was the clouds at sundown
and suddenly I understood.

If I only kept good thoughts in my minds eye
and make all the bad ones just finish.
Maybe then my thoughts wont seem to magnify
what my memory can't seem to diminish.

Out with the bad thoughts in with the new. 
I'll fill my head with good memories only. 
But it seems that there are so few
that my thoughts might just get lonely.

That makes a smile come to my lips
and I wonder, did I just laugh out loud?
I watch enchanted as the moon slips
across the sky without a cloud.

My mood has changed I realize.
I knew I felt that pull.
Now I know hope never dies.
Hope lives in a moon this full.


Details | Narrative | |

I Would, But Not Now

I would, but not now
My teeth sinking slowly into my tongue so I don’t scream at the baby
Milk all over the table, papers, dripping down onto the chair
I could, but I won’t

Screaming into the pillow until needles prick at my throat
My nap interrupted feels like heroine being snatched away from an addict that is 
ready to shoot up
Blood rushing through my veins and pulsing behind my eyes, pressure building
Needy child hands pulling at my last shreds of sanity
I can’t, but I do anyway

Where is it for God’s sake, I just put it down? The phone is ringing again, and 
again
Warm hands in the dark test the waters of my failed libido
I can’t, but wish I could

Why don’t you get a part-time job, take some classes, join a group, start an 
exercise routine?
Swirling murky thoughts just out of reach inside my corpse of a head
I would, but not now.


Details | Narrative | |

Hold On Tight

Hold on tight,
get ready for the storm,
better seek shelter,
a place safe from harm.
It is upon us,
inflation gone wild,
bull is everywhere,
pile after pile.
What has happened,
I fell into a hole,
I know what Alice,
in a Fairy Tale told.
Everyday, is something new,
no one,
anywhere,
knows what to do.
Throwing money,
into a bottomless pit,
where the greediest of the greedy,
are taking all they can get.
Hello, hello, 
is anyone there,
hello, hello,
does anyone care?
Talk about the future,
let's worry about now,
if things get worse,
there won't be one anyhow.
Tread that water,
keep your head held high,
we're in this together,
you, and I.


Details | Narrative | |

The Key

Rings of cold metal
Rigid combinations of truth
Only one fits, the clink is definitive
The turn is excruciating… expectation of opening doors
But deep inside the lock is rusty and the tumblers fail

Try again, invasion with another false hope
Each attempt weighs upon my soul 
putrid peeling paint on an ancient door…
A rough and failing surface that disintegrates with my touch

Tears and hope hung upon a keychain
But there inside the door waits only deception
For the locked door is not the barrier it seems
All this time I have had the wrong key.


Details | Narrative | |

Medley

It came from the realm of nowhere
in time you wouldn't know if it's forever
Walking down the bridge this summertime
reaching the sun, I knew is wasn't mine

Keeps beaming, farragoes of the sun
he took me away for one forlorn run
The warmness of his brace remains
until the calmness of my heart regains

The coldness of the murky night
he was alone in a sombre flight
my specter befits poignant
and my gore flowed stagnant

His voice lingered, the sonnet of winter
turbulent spirit burning; no one could hinder
this dark hour of lustful dance
evading will not be a chance

I can see his shadows fading
paralyzed by the verses of the evening
illusions of crimson and delusions of grandeur
from the vagueness of his strident eyes...I knew not for sure


Details | Narrative | |

The Sorcerer and the Apple

Hearken well,
As I commence to tell
This tale of the apple that fell
From a tree I believed from Hell:

Black I wore on this sunny day,
Similar to all my other days
When the Sun went away
I Lost all faith,
Thus lost my way.
Where my integrity went, no one says.
I Walked into a dark forest,
A maze,
On a night with no moon and no face,
I gazed at the gates
Not afraid, but rather amazed.

Me, myself, and I,
On this blackest of nights,
Walking in this forest of frights,
Without any shining light,
Blinded by self-stupidity,
A stark, blinding dark,
The beast's, who shall be named Anger, barks,
My bullying ego and my absent heart,
My sanity and humanity, were way too far,
You see I was helpless from the start.

When everything "seemed", or so to speak, wrong,
And hope was long gone,
Without a spawn
An apple came along,
I was no longer alone:

This apple gave me eyes,
In many ways made me wise
This apple offered light;
It defined beauty,
In color, shape, and size.
'twas a precious surprise.

But then came a time,
Again, I became blind,
Only with a stupidity, quite sublime,
So here came the crime:
I was succumbed by hunger and greed,
Needed to feed my needs,
My desire:
To eat the whole fruit but the seeds,
I devoured it,
Indeed I did.

What a waste, such a life,
Such a pity,
One True Lie,
I sliced the apple in slices with my knife.
That which represents my insolence and pride.

If only I had left Hubris by the tree,
Withholding Anger in his leash, next to me,
Then I wouldn't have agreed
To walk right beside Glee,
Sadly, I was weak,
As you can see,
My tolerance limited to short degree.

Here I am,
I see dark,
I see not.
Hear the lamb,
The one I'll sacrifice
To get my apple back.


Details | Narrative | |

Time Is The Keeper

My baby girl called,
to see how I was,
her usual routine,
just because.
I immediately knew,
something was wrong,
her voice was different,
absent that merry little song.
She wanted to know,
why do some dads change,
why can't they stay daddies,
and always be the same?
He never calls me,
anymore just to talk,
although he lives,
only a short distance to walk.
He is too wrapped up,
in making a dime,
he's really self centerd,
but to his children, he's blind.
Nothing I could say,
would make the hurt go away,
I told my daughter,
pray.
God opens eyes,
as He touches the heart,
and sometimes He allows us time,
to make a new start.
The dearness of our children,
can't be replaced,
but you must forgive him,
never say hate.
Time is the keeper,
of every mans soul,
one day he will remember,
one day when he is old.



Details | Narrative | |

UNTITLED

When she returned back from Chicago
she wasn't quite the same woman,
She returned having dark secrets of her own
secrets that she's not revealing.
Her husband was back in Alabama
having the time of his life,
It was though he'd forgotten
that he even had a wife.
The old ball and chain was finally gone
he felt so footloose and fancy free,
But he dreaded the day that she came back home
he'd wished that she'd once again leave.
People seem to think everything's okay between them
considering in public they're always showing affection,
But the people don't know the true story about them
on their part it's just merely acting.
She just don't know that while she was away
he was fooling around with his ex,
And over in their home the ex did stay
playing the role of good wifey for a minute.
What he don't know is that while in Chicago
she'd found the man of her dreams,
And pretty soon she's making plans of returning back to Chicago
just to be once again with the man of her dreams.
Apparently, they're both keeping dark secrets
that either one doesn't want to know,
Eventually, in due time there's going to be a revealing
and over will be the charade and show.


Details | Narrative | |

Boredom

Im writing this poem, it's not coming from heart. 
Im writing from boredom, uhh.. where do I start?
My day has been boring, the night not looking too great.
My body's too tired, though my minds quite awake. 
I slept all day long, it was an honest mistake. 
I’m checking my email, no messages will come. 
For it's late in the night, and no one is on.
And yet I keep checking, cause there always could be,
Another lame person, who’s bored just like me. 
Boredom is constant, it must live in the air. 
Cause its impossible to have fun, when boredom is there. 
I think I am tired, cause this poem won't flow. 
And I really am bored, which by now you all should know. 
So I guess it's that time, I'll just go to bed. 
No point of staying online, not much more to be said. 


Details | Narrative | |

The Fangs Of Jealousy

The fangs of jealousy just walked in,
trouble of a sort, you can't win.

Trying to explain the situation at hand,
why do you think I want your man.

The way I see it;  is, if it's real,
no one can touch it, no one can steal.

Don't come accusing, if you don't know,
my time is valuable, you need to go.

Maybe it's him you need to question tonight,
I wouldn't bother, he's not very bright.

So take your self, and turn around,
do yourself a favor, find yourself a truthful man.



Details | Narrative | |

My Blood

My blood betrayed me
Seeped slowly from its delicate channels
No one noticed, not at first
All inside, it did hide

I slipped away; slowly like a trickle
But they cut and tore and explored
Cauterizing and containing
Suction and clamps
Pulsating arteries and starving organs

Most was gone, but not all
Reinforcements were called in and they
Gave to me someone else’s blood to keep
I wonder if my body knew the difference…
Fresh infusion of life, delivered in plastic bags

Transfusion confusion…
Was this new blood all from one person?
Or maybe it was a mixed cocktail from many 
Is it gone now?...
Replaced by my own regenerated supply?

What a strange fragile thing 
That we never like to think about
Blood.


Details | Narrative | |

Sleep

Awake all night,
my mind in a buzz,
gathering my thoughts,
floating in a fuzz.
Yawning, and thinking,
I need to rest,
watching the clock,
glowing on my desk.
Turn on the tv,
watch a movie or two
at three in the morning,
not much else to do.
Maybe tonight,
I'll sleep like a log,
escaping the confusion,
lurking in the fog.



Details | Narrative | |

"Still Confounded"

Understanding that a period of anger and rage need to be had, 
to allow her to vent her emotions and then regain her sense of self and
reality.
But is a prolonged period needed?
Is such a permitted tenure being abused?

Not wanting to give in I remain in a sense of unbudging callousness.
Only such a state will empower me agains the abuse of her warranted
anger.
Why can we no longer be amorists?  
Why have we been conformed to have no dialogue between us?

No normality of such a relationship has existed for some time.
Not since this relationship has been cultivated, have we experienced
the socially acceptable union...or even that had among our peers and
elders.
Partly due to my lack of experiecne and damaged conscious, many of our
problems can be charged to me.

But why, when something better is desired, is there no coupled effort? 

Nothing sought after on her part?  
Perplexed, I seek to dig within myself to alter my ways.
But still she does not appreciate any change.
She continues to have her magnifying glass over my head, only examining
my shortcomings.
Perturbed...Confounded I remain.


Details | Narrative | |

Stupid Is Awake Now

I lie here in our bed, I can't sleep anymore,
listening for the slamming of your truck door.

I know where you were, and the reason you didn't call,
I followed you tonight, and I saw it all.

Don't give me excuses to cover your shame,
I already found out your new baby's name.

I knew something was wrong, and I just had to see,
so tomorrow when you are sober, you will have to leave.

I guess I have stupid stamped all over me,
so many nights before, you thought you were home free.

Well stupid is awake now, and she has had enough,
"oh by the way, leave your new truck."

All this is mine now, the house and everything,
I hope she was worth it, your bar room fling.

I will see you in court, and your new baby too,
my private detective has the goods on you.


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #270 / On the day I daw love

Would you believe that on the day I saw love
I knew I would come here?


Details | Narrative | |

See no evil, Hear no evil ...

I am stone cold
And fittingly I require
Garments draped in gold
A coating, shielding attire
Of royal worth and empire
For minions to behold
When the right time comes
Necessity apts to do as deemed
I cover fragile eardrums
Take one last look, Medusa scheme
Salt pillar demising plights and screams
And suicide by Midas touch
This wheeling world keeps turning
As alien flora settles in
My life’s crop circle, burning
Engulfing flames of wealth and sin
Where burdens merely end to begin
Its tragic, milestone yearning


Details | Narrative | |

IT DON'T STOP, IT DON'T QUIT

There's so much violence happening in the cities
making the picture of peace and harmony not look so pretty
Where's the light at the end of the tunnel?
As I hear a Brother in the night suffer
"Hey, can you spare a dime?" I hear a begger ask
but the people on the street just point, stare, and laugh
I drop a few dollars into his empty cup
what he really needs is the warmth of someone's love
Young bloods show no respect toward their mamas
always living a life plagued with trouble and drama
An education they don't seem to care to want
as at an old man they harrass and taunt
Fights break out in the streets and schools
it seems like the kids don't mind acting a damn fool!
Always packing guns and knives
constantly gambling with their lives
A family has no food to eat
not one slice of bread nor once slice of meat
What is there for me to do?
This kind of life sure ain't cool
I can't bare to see another tear fall from another child's eye
I can't bare hearing an innocent baby cry
It just makes me weak to my knees
oh, God! Help us, please!
My heart is feeling quite heavy
this world isn't made for my baby
Where can I go?
I really don't know
This world is nothing but a living hell!
I can actually hear Death ringing his bell
He's coming for us soon
no matter if it's morning or noon
My eyes shall close at this time
I'll rest until around night at the hour of nine
Maybe a message the world will get
but right now it don't stop, it don't quit


Details | Narrative | |

What A Day

It was just about midnight in the bright of day,
on a cold July morn in the month of May.
When out of no where came such a howl,
the turkey next door turned into a cow.
This ain't happening, it can't be real,
what in the world, must be a fire drill.
Then my donkey got up to run,
his pants fell down, they came undone.
Snow started falling, black as clear,
I jumped in my skates , and put them in gear.
This ain't happening, it can't be real,
now where did I put that bottle of pills?


Details | Narrative | |

Cram, Cram, Cram

The stores are busy, readying the shelves,
Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, what a mess.
Too much stuff, crammed into three months,
all at once, put out in front.
Buy, buy, buy, now wait a minute folks,
Santa is now wearing a Vampire cloak.
I see ghost dressed like elves, and turkeys
pulling the sleigh, I'm confused here, about
the Holiday.
One at a time, is all we can stand,
not, all at once, cram, cram, cram.


Details | Narrative | |

Shame , Shame

Shame ,Shame, you raised a hand,
no, your victim does not understand.
Whatever in this world, gives you the right,
causing such pain, looking for a fight.
You are the one, with a problem, you hear,
not the one, you've filled with fear.
Prisons, and asylums,  hold many like you,
help or punishment, for the things you do.


There is no excuse for this.


Details | Narrative | |

You Hold Me Away

You hold me
You push me away
You hold me again
You say, "It will be ok"

You hold me
You push me away
You say to me, "Be yourself"
You knowingly molded me like clay

You hold me
You push me away
You say my thoughts are important
You don't believe in what I say

You hold me
You push me away
You say you'll never hurt me
You do in what you say

You hold me
You push me away
You say for better or worse
You use these words for play

You hold me
You push me away
You yell at me, "Get out!"
You beg me to stay

You hold me
You push me away
You say, "Go have fun"
You wait for me to stray

You hold me
You push me away
You say you trust me
Your jealous every day

You hold me
You push me away
You degrade me in front of the children
You control me from day to day

You hold me
You push me away
You insult everything about me
You got your wish last May

You hold me
You push me away
You hold me a little tighter
You know I'm slipping away

You hold me
You push me away
You held me too tight
Your price was too high for me to pay

You hold me
You push me away
I fear you
I can't stay

I will forgive you some day.

For my husband 1991-1995
Written 1997




Details | Narrative | |

What

Hey, now they are selling our roads,
what is wrong with these greedy folks,
We the taxpayers, will be footing the bill,
is our country becoming, make us a deal.
We are sitting ducks for whatever they will,
I, for one have had my fill.
Money, Money, Money, get all you can,
in the back of their minds, what is the plan?
If other countries own us, can we be saved,
buying, and selling, giving us the wave.
Hey America, just watch the news,
this is our tax money being used.
Sheep going to slaughter, yes, we are on our way,
if you don't like this, feel free to have your say.


Details | Narrative | |

Shadows

Shadows of new cast on your wall,
echoes of pleasure sound down the hall.
Are you awake, or is it a dream? 
You’re afraid to consume 
all that you've seen.
Completely in shock; what a surprise!,
she continues to smile
as tears fall from your eyes.
The hints were so clear, you re-play them in your mind,
the love was never there, that you thought you would find.
You thought you were two, together as one,
but 2,3,4 she thinks are more fun.
Shadows of pain you're sick of the lies,
but she's not concerned...
just lost in Jan's thighs.


Details | Narrative | |

The Magic's Blend

When looking at me what is it that you know you can see?
What does your self have to say to you about the soul that lives inside of me?
Can he see what it is that’s deep inside the back of my eyes?
Or is he the ultimate from behind the promise of my only surprise?
Maybe it’s not what it seems in the beam of this ray of light,
Or maybe he sees his visions glaring in this blend much too bright.
Yourself or you which is fool and which is wise?

Up and away we go riding all of the waves that our eyes can possibly see.
Coiling loosely and simply falling free.
My breath captured with my body soiled from the scent of the bliss inside of you.
Magic blends heating the layers of gloss that keep shining me all of the way through.
With my body hot my blood trembles beneath the feel of my bared and wet skin.
I’m all up inside of this glare feeling magical as it completely blends all of my needs safely in.

When looking at me what is it that you think you know?
What does your self have to say to you about the feel beneath the touch of my skin?
Does he see this glare of light with his visions sunk or just anchored by a strange hook?
Or is he the ultimate from behind the beams when they will only burn shining on dim?
Maybe it’s not what it seems when you’ve really, truly and even squarely looked?
Or maybe he sees these beams blending when his visions are adapted too his all time low.
Yourself or you, which is friend and which is foe?

Up and away we go calming the almighty of the highest seas.
Completely loose simply aiming for free.
My breath taken and my body covered with the scent of the blissful buried treasures in you.
Complete subliminal excellence in the magic that keeps shining me all the way through!
My body glossed and gleaming as my blood quivers in the light of this heavenly vision’s blend.
I’m up inside of myself soothed as the magic warms what is deep beneath my bared wet skin.

Yourself or You! 
Which has vision and which is dim per glares in the currents of “The Magic’s Blend”?


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #63 / Commons

I suddenly remember! Here!
These very commons in which our physics class today
collects tiny manifestations of the laws that govern Nature
in the sunlight of the late morning 
smiles and laughs beaming from every face
Yes, here, not even one week ago
club music thumped through the empty midnight
bodies were packed tight, sweaty, bouncing to the beat
dreams were made and broken just as quickly
(mine was recycled)
a plastic punch cup, kicked, skid across the floor
rolling to a stop in a shadowy corner of the night
where even now, in the light of day, students’ works of art
are illuminated, set on display for passersby
But look! Now tennis balls bounce across all-color tables!
A blue metal chair set atop!
Will they collide?


Details | Narrative | |

Shall We Sit

Shall we sit, and talk for awhile,
or maybe use this time to accomplish
something worthwhile?
Shall we busy ourselves with task at hand,
realizing a difference can be made with two 
strong hands?
Shall we listen to the cry of the needy,
shaming the wasteful, showing signs
of becoming greedy?
Shall we take notice , we can't blindly stand,
while things are getting too far out of hand?
Shall we become a voice as one,
seems these days,
nothing will be left for our daughters, and sons.


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #77 / The land is old yet reborn

Oh! The land is old yet reborn
baptized in the fallen rain, innocent
in spite of the pain it has witnessed
over thousands of years the stage of
countless tragedies, tales of mortal strife, now they all
fall away, oh, save for mine! 
On the porch I swoon from the fear 
of that coming witch!
My soul wavers! I cannot remain!
Though my eyes would love to drink up these angel tears
I will walk back inside with Hannah!
I am lost!


Details | Narrative | |

Yesterdays Today Tomorrow

Plagued by yesterday. 
Yesterday is today.
Today will be tomorrow. 
Tomorrow guilt will follow.
Followed pain from sorrow. 
Sorrow of no hope to borrow.
Borrowed hope lost. Heart’s hollow.
Hollow heart from pain and sorrow.
Sorrow brings guilt into tomorrow.
Tomorrow will never be today.
Today will soon be yesterday.
Plagued by yesterdays today.
Tomorrow.


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #19 / A thousand skulls

A thousand skulls litter the battlefield
the stench rises, vultures fall
rivers run red,
“wasted wars and selfish pride”
How many of them knew the truth?


Details | Narrative | |

Questions

How many have taken an oath of peace,
to fall so short, and their promise breached?
How many can talk a pretty good talk,
but the shoes they follow, unable to walk?
How many want power, to sit so high,
only to fall short, in the watchers eye?
How many speak words, that make them shine,
only to be dulled, when cornered, they whine?
How many have a vision, within ones reach,
only to derail,  when profits, they keep?
How many are able, to follow through,
with being honest, in the works they do?
How many believe, how many deceive,
how many , these are some questions,
for you, and me.


Details | Narrative | |

The Night of the Genie

 

As he came staggering down the hall,
   Walking slowly hoping not to fall.
The taste of whiskey still on his breath,
   Hating himself wishing only for death.
What had turned his life this way?
   He used to be happy until that day.
He came home from work and found the note,
   It tore him to pieces the words she wrote.
I’m leaving you and I don’t know why,
   I’ve got to be free or I feel I will die.
Well that was all the note said,
   And he started shaking from those words he read.
What had he done he reasoned in his mind?
   All alone in this cold and dark house he felt betrayed and left behind.
To the liquor cabinet he drank his supper that night,
   Confused and mad and now wanting to fight.
But there was no one there but himself he was all alone.
   He cried out in anger this is the worst feeling I know I’ve ever known.
The old bottle cooed to him I’ll be your friend,
   I’ll stick with you till the biter end.
As he picked up that Genie and sloshed it around,
   And took another drink from this new friend he had found.
He drank so much he fell asleep on the floor,
   And upon awakening he couldn’t remember much about the night before.
He sat at his table with coffee in hand,
   Trying to clear his mind looking for answers to help him understand.
Well he thought to himself that what she had done was all wrong,
   But if she wasn’t happy with him then he reckoned she just didn’t belong.
That night of drunkenness may not have been right,
   But it sure took his mind off his problems that horrible night.


Details | Narrative | |

Ode to the Nut

 

I’m not crazy I’m insane.
   Kind of goofy, have no brain.
Goofy is as goofy does.
    Can’t remember who I was.
Happy yes or happy no. 
    Here I am and there I go.
Looney toons is just my way.
    I’m in my world and here I’ll stay.
Simple, simple what’s the deal?
    I like things that are not real.
I just lost my peace of mind.
    I look and look but cannot find.
If you see it passing by. 
    Bring it back so I don’t cry.
I’ve got crayolas and paper too.
    So come on over and I’ll draw for you.
I have to go they told me so.
    Back to my room is where I go.
The people here they are no fun.
     Treat me like I’m a crazy one.


Details | Narrative | |

Blocked

I have had a block?
Out on my ear, quite a shock.
No talking any more.
Will not open the door.
Cannot say sorry or try again.
To be blocked is a pain.
In Coventry am I.
I don't know why.
To be friends again.
I want to try.


Details | Narrative | |

In Harms Way

Their mission at hand , can't be defined,
sent far away leaving loved ones behind.

Streets patrolled every minute of the day,
a land of bloodshed, a society in disarray.

Killed or wounded the reports come in,
as more are recruited, and trained to defend.

Tears keep falling every minute of the day,
as families bow their heads to pray.

A wise woman I'm not, but who is these days,
when they send more, and more in the middle of harms way.

God bless our soldiers, and bring them home,
this war we are in, has been going on too long.


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #24 / Two weeks ago

Two weeks ago I could stroll
along the riverside happy smiling in peace
Where’d it go?
And can the Timbuktu of tomorrow really
be closer than my home of yesterday?


Details | Narrative | |

A Letter From Meth

(A letter from Meth, 
You don't know me, only what I can do,
I am the devil, I am living with you.
I guide your children to play with fire,
you can tell when I'm needed, that helpless
desire.
I am not pretty, and I'll destroy their health, and
don't think for a minute, I care about those
tears you wept.
I can't get enough of sharing myself,
even for free, then they'll need me.
I know you stay up, and wait for them at night,
I'll never leave, without giving you a fight.
Families don't mean a thing to me,
hooked is all I care about, you'll see..
Running in flocks they all do the same,
calling me daily, Meth is my name.
Weight falling off, that hollow stare,
don't really care about what they wear.
News is on the street, I heard today,
a grave is being dug for someones baby to lay.
I mean business, don't mess with me,
I am out for money, and I am greedy.
Remember I warned you, I told you all about me,
now it's your turn, open your eyes, and see.


Details | Narrative | |

We Need Help

How careless they play their game,
do I have to name , names?

I'll do this, and I'll do that,
but my bank account needs to be fat.

Constantly they fight for votes, hey, 
they really know the ropes.

Don't blame me, it's not my fault,
and another one just got caught.

Sneaky, and slick, where do they all stand,
I believe we just got slammed.

Trust, respect, honor, what do these words mean?

They mean a war in a far away land,
They mean soldiers, that don't have a voice,
They mean graves being dug everyday,
They mean hospitals full of wounded,
They mean promises not being kept,
They mean we as a country, really need help.


Details | Narrative | |

The Dilemma

   
When your heart breaks what do you do?
   Do you patch it with band aids or use super glue?
When you feel all alone and you stand in a crowd.
   Do you shout to be heard do you holler out loud?
When you feel blue, what color are you?
   I look at myself I’m clear thru and thru.
When sadness ends,
   Is that where heartache begins?
If you’re melancholy,
   Does that mean you’re not jolly?
What about anger is that a bad thing?
   I‘d certainly try it if relief it would bring.
Maybe it’s confusion this pain that I feel.
   Maybe I just lost it could that be the deal?
Whatever it is I know what to do.
    I’ll give this problem to God and blame it on you.


Details | Narrative | |

Her Wasted Years

Sobbingly she said, I've cried over you a thousand rivers full of tears. 
   Why have you never shown any emotions towards my feelings or my fears? 
Did you ever once consider the pain I suffered for you? 
   Have you ever thought of the heartache you caused by the things you do? 
The only guilt I carry is the love I dare not end. 
    What is it you have over me, why I dare not call you friend? 
I thought when we were younger that you would change your ways. 
   The only thing that has changed is the hardness of your heart so black and so 
decayed. 
Without love in a marriage it simply wilts away. 
   That's why I have to leave you I do not wish to stay. 
As those words I hear over and over, steadily banging inside my head. 
   Had I listened with compassion, but I listened with contempt to her words 
instead. 
She warned and pleaded almost a daily thing. 
   Now I feel the heartache and the sorrow that not being loved can only bring. 
I want to say I'm sorry, reach out and bring her back. 
   But I don't want to hurt her again I'm afraid it's morals that I lack. 
I know she's probably grieving, so much of her life she threw away. 
   Wasted on me, could there be a doubt, and my childish ways. 
 Wishing won't bring her back, and I doubt I'd ever change. 
   The one thing that I hope for you instead of bitterness you find true happiness 
and love you can exchange. 

This is just a poem so please don't get angry at me. The real sad part is it 
happens too often .


Details | Narrative | |

Untitled #64 / Out of a moldy cavern

Out of a moldy cavern I step into the afternoon sun’s radiant warmth
All around me pounds the pulse of life,
yet, among this crowd of my peers,
no other soul feels the Dharma nature. Still,
in their words, their movements, their expressions,
their sighs, their laughs, their struggles, the Dharma
preaches itself to me. Now I walk
straight forward through this cacophony,
slower than ever, no eye contact, deliberate through life,
knowing well I was on the point of epiphany.
There! A forest path reveals itself!
Upon it one lonely soul shoulders the
burden of his backpack as he plods his way home.
Oh, to forge every dull routine of life
into a miraculous, marvelous moment
is to put and end to your rebirths
and drink forever from the Fountain of Youth!


Details | Narrative | |

My Dream

  

I had a dream earlier this morning,
   It was like I was receiving some type of a warning.
I was told to reach out to all I could,
   And that things are fixing to happen that may not be good.
Repent and turn from sin,
   These few words kept playing over and over again.
It was a dream but was it real,
    I feel like we are living and seeing the breaking of seals.
Look up look up keep watching the sky,
    Is another thing that keeps flashing in my minds eye.
I feel so strange writing this down,
     But I was told to share it all around.
I saw a lot of fire throughout my dream,
     And I felt as if I could hear people scream.
There was blood all over the ground, 
     And your feet would stick as you walked around.
There is only one thing I know to say,
    We must turn to the Lord and shed our evil ways.
Ask for redemption before it’s too late,
    Seek out Jesus and change your fate.
Seek Him in prayer on bended knees,
    Seek Him and ask Him to honor your pleas.
God bless you all that read my letter,
    Jesus is the only way things will get better.


Details | Narrative | |

High Experience

We sat in a room. 
A bedroom, a messy one. 
One with a mixture of clothes, garbage and drugs scattered everywhere. There 
was random writing on the walls, like grafitti, and the paint was chipping. We sat 
mostly in silence, we knew what was going to happen that night. When he arrived 
we got into the van and he introduced us to his stash. 
We got to the highschool commons. It was a giant building with tall ceilings, 
giant pillars, and big glass windows, and it had no supervision inside. Before 
going inside we smoked some hash outside. There had to be at least 400 
people there. The room had flashing lights, loud music, and teenage wreckage 
everywhere. The people were forming a kind of mosh; their arms flinging and 
they screamed to see if they could out-roar the music. 
The effect was deafening. Nearly all the stash-ridden tables were smashed to 
the floor, so we hurried to the only stnading one left. He dumped his stash on the 
table. 
The lights plus the music plus the emotion made you want to dig into the stash 
and join the mosh. That's what we did, but we didn't join the mosh right away. We 
sat around the table and watched the masacre, finding it overly amusing. We 
laughed at mearly everything as the acid took it's effect. I finally got up to mosh. 

Everything wanted your body in, and it had already stolen your voice, for you 
couldn't hear yourself scream. Before I could get my feet off the ground, I couldn't 
help but notice that there were people making out everywhere, as they moshed. I 
laughed at them, but was jelous. 
I started kissing someone, unsure of whether or not it was a guy or girl. We 
stripped off our clothes until we were nearly naked, but then he/she backed away. 
They rejoined the mosh. 
I stood still, and the mosh parted before me leading me to the glass wall. I 
walked, barefoot, to where it stood surprisingly clean. I took the object in my hand 
and smashed the gleaming wall, screaming with the music. The crowd cheered 
and roared until my ears were ringing and I was nearly deaf. I moshed into the 
middle of the mosh and everyone jumped to my rhythm. I felt hundreds of eyes 
watching me, so I closed my eyes and let my body go. He/she found me again, 
and kissed me again, and the masacre disappeared. Eventually so did whoever I 
was kissing.