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,
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
still tiered eyes open,
She walks down stairs, packs up, and gets on the bus,
She stares out the window wishing to spend the day there and not at a desk.
7 FULL HOURS of of unempathetic teachers,
they give her 6 more hours of school work to do at home.
No one cares!
The homework starts on the bus and she's lucky to have it done by 10PM.
Finely, she gets to go to bed,
But all she does is stare at the sealing with the overhanging stress of the work she didn't finish combined with the work her unrelenting teachers will give her tomorrow.
It happens each day,
It's beyond her control,
she tells teachers and friends but they spit in her face telling her they don't care.
It won't change.
Luckily, she has her head on strait,
and while she trudges through the mud she stays strong,
knowing that everything is going to work out.
So she tells herself just wait.
Copyright © Emma H | Year Posted 2014
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
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Unless you understand ,
What it's like to have noises inside your head
Loud sometimes buzzing ,always keeping beat.
They say to have tinnitus is temporary you see
But when I have these noises, they envelop me.
Lose my concentration,
Cannot sit and think.
Want them to stop buzzing.
Like cicadas on a tree.
Constantly building intensity and force.
I feel that there will come a day
When I stand some where and scream
Tell each and ever person
To remove the sounds I hear
For once nothing would be good.
I know it's my condition
To listen every day
To buzzing crackling noises
That never go away.
If I'm lucky they diminish.
There not as loud as some
Days that had me crying
Wanting just to run
This is my affliction
I battle every day.
Because I let a surgeon
Roto root my head
He was supposed to fix my sinus
Not turn on headphones
Buzzing every day.
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
Yes, the time had allowed another opportunity to be near you,
Though well heaven knows whenever you are near my fear crunches my breath,
Leaving me starving for you, and wanting nothing more than to flee…
I stood in line, mainly because my family was there…
God knows I was not hungry at all…
Which is odd—I’m usually always hungry when I come to food gatherings
But there I was, my stomach swirling, and I looked out of the window,
And I saw you with the others, serving the food
My first thought was, great, here’s an opportunity,
And then the fear came—oh boy, what are you serving?
Are you serving something I like?
Something I hate?
So I closed my eyes and opened them again…
And I looked at what you were serving…
It was either macaroni salad, or potato salad; wasn’t quite sure at the time
I was more intrigued by how you presented yourself,
So friendly…so easy-going….so very natural and engaging
Damnit! The line is moving fast!
I cringed at the thought of approaching you,
Even when I was following all the others;
And I knew you couldn’t be left insinuating-
Oh, that girl’s kinda weird and creepy…
I guess you’d only think that if I went to the table for the third time or something-
But still, I was shaking with stupid thoughts
There was a problem though…
I do like macaroni salad… well, a little bit--I've never loved it
And I’m rather sick of potato salad frankly…
So if I refused the food, would you think it’s just another way to avoid contact?
Or will I give eye contact and smile at you, and say “no thank you”?
As I got closer, it was apparent it was potato salad…
And I begin to think
Well! Potato salad…it’s not that bad…let’s play it safe, shall we? Let’s get a little bit.
And before I knew it, I was where all the food was
You were talking speedily, happily with the others
About just everything it seemed… my ears heard blurs at this point
A lady offered me salad – I accepted the bowl and slowly put dressing on and looked up
And you smiled at me and said,
“Best potato salad in the world, right here.”
And I can’t remember if I smiled,
But I most certainly lifted that stupid plate…
The lady next to you said,
“and there’s another kind right beside it!”
I said quickly, “I think I’ll pass…”
What she didn’t know was that I was trying to get the hell away before I vomited on everything and everyone...
I wasn’t hungry at all…
But one thing was certain…
I accepted the potato salad because you were serving it!
And I ate it too…
It wasn’t bad…in fact I could say pretty easily,
It was the best potato salad in the world
You were… were….. right there.
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
Remax can sale you a home but can't sale you happiness. I never visit the state of Georgia but things do get a little peaches. See this what happens when you eat finger food and take out orders. I never receive your Southern Hospitality/ I couldn’t even receive a plate of food you cook/ you can finally see now when I walk away out your life forever I don’t even have a single word for you. Only thing you will receive from me is this middle finger. You was taught at young age to go to School and learn in Class. But surely class can’t teach you “CLASS”!!
A moment silent things were so quiet and complicate in the beginning I thought we could have reconnect /But just like the chips to connect four they don’t always stay in the same order. You had play a handful of games and this when the “Battleship” games has to end. Now I hope you feel the water rise from your sinking ship and allow your tears to fumble into your lap.
Copyright © christopher michaels | Year Posted 2013
Dawn’s arms rock us awaken
First light guides our eyes open
A minute or two we bask
Before we rise to the tasks
Buzzing we go, all duty
Not missing the melody
Of plans laid out well in war
When the battle cry did warn
Signs were posted in plenty
In aches of flesh past groaning
Clocks ticked too fast to keep up
We sensed the call to the Sun
Finally armed and fueled
We three and the engine revved
Taking routes always farther
Away from the walled master
Warmer becomes flesh and heart
As we steer like movie stars
Heads high to catch the sun’s drops
Eyes shaded in blissful lost
Soon we are flying through air
Passing green-eyed rooms with cheer
Bucolic scenes blaze colors
How beautifully they merge
Tempo slows as deep blue nears
Silent, the wait comes to bear
Descent is smooth, toes sink in
Digging in grains so golden
It is here we recover
Here, we let go of the war
Copyright © Terry-Ann Coley | Year Posted 2013
An American Warrior
please tell me why if you can
the reason I don’t have a right hand
my right leg is missing as well
all I can say is war is hell
I volunteered to serve my country
to defend it from harm
and to protect peoples in foreign lands
who wanted to live free from tyranny
when I look at the news I shed a tear
at what my buddies and I gave
and all my brave buddies laying in their grave
was all for not
the country of Iraq is worse off today and falling apart
and will not survive
so I ask again
what did I give my right hand and leg for
for what for what I scream and shout
what was my sacrifice all about
please tell me if you can
my mind and body are in pain
tears fall from my eyes like an April rain
my body is not whole
I am one man who is mad as hell
The way this poem came about is, I was sitting in my easy chair when these thoughts kept coming into my head. I wrote these words down. Some American Warrior Hero somewhere was thinking these thoughts I just happened to tune them in I have written 6 poems this way over the years. God bless our American Warrior Hero’s Dennis Davis July 4th 2014
Copyright © Dennis Davis | Year Posted 2014
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
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
It's time to come clean, to own up and admit to my mistakes, misbehavior, and machinations. I joked about "plotting" and "ousting" people, and the joke went way too far because it was taken literally and seriously, as if I actually possessed the power to exile someone from the site. You know what? That was wrong, and in the process, I hurt a lot of people and I have been responsible and at the center of much of the drama that has plagued the site for the past week or so. My behavior helped to warp our haven, and I have been wrong on so many levels; I admit it.
I am taking responsibility for my actions. I've talked smack about people behind their back; a lot of us have; let's just admit it: it DOES go on. I am guilty of it. The feuding must stop for the sake of peace and harmony. We don't have to all hold hands and sing kumbaya, but we can stand united beside one another and put our differences aside. I'm airing out all my dirty laundry here. I am owning my fault and guilt and apologizing to the people I hurt; to make amends is the only thing I know, and one thing that AA has taught me.
It would make me happy if we all come clean, admit our mistakes and make amends. I am just as guilty as some others; I'm curious if they, too, will come clean.
I've been wrong on so many levels it's not funny, literally. I'm not a bad person, but I have made big mistakes and I am here to apologize, sincerely. No more fighting or bad-mouthing. Let's all concentrate on producing great poetry instead of feuding. All I want is peace and serenity.
Again, I take full responsibility for my wrongful actions. I ask for your forgiveness and for your patience. This is a most trying and taxing time in my life. I battle addiction and the symptoms of my mental illnesses, all day, everyday. I have Borderline Disorder; look it up. It's a terrible affliction. I'm not going to blame my errors and poor decisions on my illnesses or my father's kidney cancer. They were just catalysts that brought out the worst emotions in me and I took my fear and anger out on mostly undeserving people (some deserved to be verbally eviscerated, though, and I make no apologies for that). But I do apologize for all my mistakes and bad behavior.
Again, let's all just put our differences aside and focus on our artistry. The Soup is about poetry and fellowship, not feuding and fighting. Let's have peace and harmony, for the sake of all. Thanks for listening. ~ Chan
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
Hostile Times II
By Nate Spears
Busted love is my Crystal Ball's fortune
My heart hurts in a torturing way
Nothing ever works in my favor
I lower my head and pray
Confessing to God
All I have to give
A 16 year old rebellious daughter
A 13 year old son that’s dead
My father is in prison; so is the one of my two kids
Is this really a way of living?
I didn’t have a choice from the days beginning
Would have a given me a chance
Walls of barriers bearing on us
On this earth we stand
Refusing to let go of this curse
If no bill is signed by Congress
My unemployment runs out next Thursday
Now I contemplate what’s next?
Sex dollars or Creflo's Dollars?
Be an honest woman; or
Be a fool that’s starving?
When pushed to the limit
All governors are discarded.
Hostile Times rains upon us
Other nations joins the honors
The Elite makes me vomit
There’s plenty of resources among us
God have mercy and let it trickle down on us
Rather than become degrading
In this pew
I choose prayer
Becoming Sunday Mornings best
Washing away my pains that become abreast; with my chest
Bringing in a new day,
For a better way
In these hostile times we live in.
Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013
"You in the military?"
I was confused at first and didn't know why the man would ask me such a question. But then I remembered my recent haircut.
"No... is it because I shaved my head, that you think that?"
He laughed, in confirmation. At the time he seemed good-natured and so I decided to try and spark some kind of conversation. After all why not? I had two hours worth of sitting ahead of me, and I was bored of the silence.
"Do you think it's weird that I shave my head?". Admittedly I'm not the most graceful conversationalist. "Not at all... so why are you headed to Boise?". I told him I live there and that I just got back from Europe. For some reason where I came from didn't interest him much.
"You study at BSU?". I told him no, and he started to sway back and forth. He had a weird habit of not being able to stand completely straight. "What do you do?". And I said I was just a pizza-maker, and thought the description was ample. He paused for five minutes and then said in a low condescending voice "I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that. Now what do you DO?".
I was exhausted from almost twenty hours of drawn out sitting, and plus I was never good at clever responses, so I said dumbly "I don't know". He said "What about CWI? You know, coll-ege-of-west-ern-i-da-ho", pronouncing each syllable precisely. Did he think I had mental problems or something? "I don't know, I haven't looked very deep into it".
He seemed irritated with me and continued that annoying sway of his. My shallow side got the best of me and I couldn't help but form conclusions of what he thought of me. Like for instance; this kid probably spends most of his time playing video-games... that is when he's not smoking pot. Hell, maybe he even does both at the same time. Those were the thoughts that came to me and I was helpless to stop them.
He showed me his military ID, saying proudly "See here, I'm in the military." Placing his finger right on his portrait. I said "Cool!". But I really just wanted some peace and quiet. He put his card back in his wallet. But he had this look about him, that showed deep disappointment. He looked as though he was waiting for some profound response from my end. Did he expect me to bow down, kiss his feet, and shout out "Oh you brave man! I'm simply not worthy of your presence!" But no, all I said was cool and continued to look at the giant digital clock on the wall. Will this plane ever get here!?
"C'mon man, you gotta know what you wanna do in life!". His badgering just wouldn't stop, but I was in no mood to breathe any comebacks beside mechanical responses. I could have told him I had a passion for composing songs on my piano, and that I was self-taught; or that I had enough material on my Kindle Fire to start at least a couple books. I could've even quoted Plato, stating "College polishes pebbles, but dims diamonds". But I don't think that would have jived well with him and would have simply caused me more stress. Why should I bother defending myself to someone who knew absolutely NOTHING about me? I just wanted to get home after a month of being away. Not get lectured by this complete stranger who refused to get the hint.
"My son is seventeen years old and has no idea what he wants to do". Was he talking to himself or me? "I'd like to show him brochures of Michigan or Hawaii," he snickered, "Heck, maybe that would get him out of the house!". I mentally rolled my eyes at him - I was simply too beat to do it physically. I've never been so grateful to have a dad like mine. That poor, poor kid! When the plane, at last arrived, I rejoiced that I didn't have sit next to that meddlesome man. I say this in complete seriousness, that he was quite possibly the most irritating person I've ever met.
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.
Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.
Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."
Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.
Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.
And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...
"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.
I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.
You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think...
Copyright © The First Born The First Forgotten | Year Posted 2013
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
God Is Real/Miracles Happen
By Nate Spears
God is real, and miracles happen
Despite of his struggles
The middle class poet kept on writing his chapters
Times were tough
But he didn’t give up
His bills were overdue
No water, no power
He used GOD as his source; and
kept on writing his chapters
Then came a knock
He opened his door, but no one was there
There was a note left behind, along with a white feather on his mat
A rent paid receipt
Plus full payment of his utilities
He closed the door quickly, and went back in the house to his desk
The pages in his book was flipped
to a ending page he couldn’t miss
A inspirational piece was left behind that he didn’t write
It read this:
For your time and effort given
to lead and inspire, this is the final chapter in your book that I so desire.
I restored your power, to give you energy to write.
I gave you water again, for the tears shed on your writes.
I provided funding for your rent, for the priceless messages your poems present.
Those sheets of paper have inspired many lives in need to vent.
I read the final chapter, and started to cry
I glanced out the window at a river of joy nearby
A rainbow appeared in the sky
Under covering my darkness
There lies a ray of light
No matter how deep life pounds
No matter how hard things get
If you believe you can overcome
Just keep up the fight
The battle is already won
Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013
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.........
Copyright © Kiara Lebel | Year Posted 2014
THE POOP OF LIFE
The poop word is a replacement
For the other four letter word
You know the one that means poop
The one you have most likely heard
There is a lot of poop in our life
That is really like our body poop
Both are really a necessity for living
Let me give you the comparison scoop
The type of food taken in your body
Or what is fed into your life for you
Will certainly determine precisely
What type of poop you’re getting in to
If you let the poop get all built up
You tend to want to push and strain
In hopes to hurry and force it out
That can only cause cramps and pain
Slow down and take a deep breath
It really is always best to just relax
The more you try to lighten up yourself
The easier it will be for the poop to pass
It’s time to worry if you have no poop
Or if you just can’t get that poop out
Keep it fresh and make room for more
It feels great when it is all cleaned out
A stall full of poop has the best worker
As Proverbs 14:4 suggestively does say
So a good worker does poop a lot
Please don’t let it pile up for days
No one wants to step in your poop
Or even wants to see it for that matter
We need to clean up our own poop
Every little particle or a tiny splatter
It is important to remember
To always wipe twice
It’s like double checking
And it’s really the best advice
If the same old poop is left
Just everywhere lying around
It only attracts the flies and scum
Those pests from every part of town
At times there may be a lot
Of just stinky hot air
Then sometimes you get
The real poop coming there
There are many different types
Of shapes, sizes and textures
With the daily poop we’re given
The variety of life is measured
I could probably go on and on
Even you may think of more, I know
So I’ll leave you with this one last note
Try not to get caught in deep poop though
Florence McMillian (Flo)
Copyright © Florence McMillian | Year Posted 2012
Stuck in a hole
Ear-drums bursting from crumpled sound
Stuck in a hole
Secret wire-tapping sin soul
Loss of sleep is thunder unbound
Death is a noise heart-beats confound
Stuck in a hole
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012
Reheated road retired by moving pandemonium,
Altercating, bitching, clamoring and demanding
sluggishly set forward
Birds and flies dispersed towards different directions
Their infuriate cry overspread the moving commotion
Against the riot the power standing
highly fortified, uniformed with stars
Attentively antagonized, barricading with iron bars
behind the fuming
Uproar reached closer
and disagreement sparking
Bottles, stones, whatever touching hands took wings
High torn and overfilled emotions animated
in place of confirmation, coordination, and correlation
flushing water, smoky gas and rubber bullets
find way to reach a peaceful solution
tears, vain juice and screaming
flowed without win nobody
Road reheated seeking solution treatment!
Copyright © Jayaratne Weerakkody | Year Posted 2014
I woke up this morning
And wondered when life would be good to me
I see nothing but problems
I hear nothing but people wanting
Wanting all of me
I have nothing left to offer
Nothing left to give
If I close my eyes just for a moment
Will all be as it should be when I open my eyes again?
Copyright © venessa lisa asvat | Year Posted 2013
The day has started once again people rushing to their spots
Frequently humming, and forgetting their words and dots
The day has started and with all sorts of voices scattering
Frequently hesitant, in smiling and remembering to breathe
The day has started with heart beats pacing slow and fast
Frequently blanking minds to stop all thoughts that scare
The day has started say Hi! To all, soon with grace stand tall
Frequently hushing each other to take control with a smile
The day has started with warm ups to keep voices on pitch
Frequently done as a relief in their thoughts and voice
The evening has came so suddenly, the concert is to begin
People rush to get tickets or seats to listen to their child
The evening has came to fast for some and need to breathe
People begin to converse load then often times silence down
The evening has words galore infinite gathering tones
People speak well of their kin, or children that are hoarse
The evening came and soon lights dim to start the concert
People react to the conductor standing in front to guide
The evening sure is starting out so very fine with great hope
People are quieting down to here every ones voice
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
There are times when the demon in us stealthily it appears...
How else I get to explain why I did what I did when life is so dear...
How can I explain away my flaunting of a basic safety driving rule...
It is dangerous to overtake vehicles while going downhill...
So it happened, the devil took over my steering wheel this day...
Speeding downhill, two automobiles I overtook rather easily...
At this speed I can take on one more vehicle, that oncoming car is so distant...
I pressed a little more on my accelerator, my double cabin truck shot forth..
That oncoming car, God! There's not enough distance to clear this overtake...
Stay cool, don't panic! Softly and steadily I eased down on my foot brake....
This vehicle I seek to overtake, its speed is much faster than my initial take...
In that split second, dire realisation struck home, you cannot clear this overtake..
Do I brace for impact, trusting in the good Lord, as the oncoming car grew in sight..
In a flash, I'll to trust the good Lord but I did a quick hard swerve to the right...
I'm through Lord! I was right to swipe across to the right to go for the side.....
Then that jarring impact, what's happening, my grip is firm on the steering wheel...
I'm thrown about, splintered glass rained upon me as I wondered will my car stop..
Felt my car heavily crashed through scrubs, saplings and bushes trying to stop..
Absolute silence, dazed comprehension, I'm in a collision, am I alright...
Slowly reached for the ignition, switched off, thankfully I felt alright...
Gingerly, reached across and released my safety belt, feeling no pain..
Cautiously, fearing broken bones or gaping wounds, I took stock again...
Praise the Lord, I feel alright, there's no pain nor bloodied spots...
Miraculously, I think I did alright as I reach to open my car door...
Half in daze, relief welling inside, slowly I let out my right leg outside...
Carefully placed my right foot down, gingerly eased out onto solid ground..
A numbed but relieved mind in me whispered softly, I think you made it...
God in heavens, I have gone through a high speed crash and survived...
Safe I am, this time...!
In my country, drivers are seated right and slow drive is on the left...unlike
Continental driving in the reverse...
Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015
Summoned into the office
after years of daily labor
to hear something about something
of the new management personnel
"it's nothing personal" he heard,
"it's just, you know - business."
So the man, picked up his
second amendment right, and
gave his commercial opinion and,
a small caliber thought in his head.
"nothing personal boss man,
it's just recapitalized business" he said,
"and this is my arbitrated concession",
and turned and went to meet his new fate.
© Goode Guy 2013-07-09
Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2013
Office Arrival 9:30am
Stress is accentuated by the untimely and un-natural demise of a certain pot of liquid whose vicissitudinous qualities are essential for work place co-habitation. This life's day, as I know it, could be inexplicable altered.
2nd. Of A Series
Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016
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.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2011
When she lost autonomy,
the world became a different place -
sharp-eyed young women were on the alert,
and she had to eat at the silly set times.
Washing took on grandeur -
was there really an order?
took high pulse.
The home became a place of fear,
and she dare not speak her mind.
The sharp-eyed women would tell the nurse,
and, further, she was going blind.
Copyright © Julia Ward | Year Posted 2015
when I turn.
Still, it is there,
can feel its eyes
at my clothing.
Each step I take,
it does too.
Each time I stop,
the silence is frightening.
Afraid to run,
I know it's faster,
so I walk on.
a sound I hadn't heard before
crawls up my spine,
breathing, louder than mine.
My heart is pounding now,
mind whirling in panic.
What did it want?
Does it know me?
Then, a hand on my shoulder,
I freeze in horror.
A familiar voice laughing,
you forgot your jacket.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Copyright © 2015 Robert William Gruhn
Copyright © Robert William Gruhn | Year Posted 2015