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On Writing And Words Sad Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Sad

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Details | Rhyme | |

the Oracle in Love

       She laced her eyes 
closed with the ties
    of lover's binding vows

     she's flying blind
to prick your mind
    with thoughts 
   she's writing now.

She's gained conclusions
      from her flight,
and virtues from your smile,

     she felt your face
  in blinding grace,
     she glorifies your style.

    The double helix
spirals on
   to form us as it may,

    we choose another one
to be
   a place for us to stay.

The atmosphere 
    there crackles,
with lightning
    on her tongue,

    She spins around,
in sightless sound,
     and shatters..........
          deaf and dumb.

Details | Ballad | |

Unanswered Poems

Don’t send me more 
Of your tragic poems
My dear 
Covered in blood
Of your monthly flood
Of tears

Don’t send me more 
Of your angry poems
My dear
Carved with the knife
Of your molten spite
And fears

I’m just a peddler 
With a cart
Bringing discount words
To hearts
Broken hearts across the land
Woman left without her man
Broken hearts throughout the world
Anguished boy and crying girl

Your poetry’s too heavy, dear
For me to read, for me to bear
Your poetry’s too heavy, dear
For me to get from here to there

Don’t send me more
Of your bitter poems
My sweet
Forged in the fire
Of your endless ire
And grief

Don’t send me more 
Of your hopeless poems
My sweet
Ripped from the womb
Of the lonely room
You keep

I’m just a peddler 
With a cart
Bringing discount words
To hearts
Broken hearts across the land
Woman left without her man
Broken hearts throughout the world
Anguished boy and crying girl

Your poetry’s too heavy, dear
For me to read, for me to bear
Your poetry’s too heavy, dear
For me to get from here to there

(You see that shadow on the road
Trudging ‘neath its heavy load
A heart weighed down by sands of time
And your poems only make him cry
And he won’t add them to the pile
So he can walk another mile)

(And he won’t add them
To the pile
So he can walk 
Another mile)

Too heavy, dear 
Too heavy, dear
For me to read 
For me to bear

(They make him sad
Make him cry
Beat him down
Deep inside)

Too heavy, dear
Too heavy, dear
For me to read
For me to bear

They make me sad
Make me cry
Feel as though 
I want to die

(And he won’t add them
To the pile
So he can walk 
Another mile)

Too heavy, dear
Too heavy, dear
For me to read
For me to bear

(A heart weighed down 
By sands of time
And your poems 
Only make him cry)

Too heavy, dear
Too heavy, dear
For me to read
For me to bear

Details | Elegy | |

His Legacy

Up into the sky 
he soared 
like an Angel

With us 
down here-- 
at Soupland, watching him as he soared 
like an Angel;

So gentle… 
and brave 
he was,
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet

His breath
could not resist the resounding call 
of Heaven 
and he left, 

Leaving us his poetry, for 
when great storms come in, his laughter 
will dry our tears like rain.


for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all-- 
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.    

Details | Blank verse | |

Love Song

Here’s what I’m thinking now 
at the end of the world: 

There are no atheists in foxholes— 
no theists in politics. 
If knowledge is power, 
and power corrupts, 
then why did I bother reading you, Cicero? 

Does it matter that I didn't’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

There’s a poetry reading tonight 
whence I’I'll chide other poets 
who don’t sit alone. 
I won’t bring up death 
but I might have to breathe, 
even into a mike 
and mouth lines to get a snap or a boo 
maybe even a wince or two. 

Just maybe I’I'll talk about love 
and how following your heart is like following a dog— 
it only leads to vittles and (female dogs). 
But how many times have I used that line 
since the story I wrote about you, 
a witty and sexy and fictional you? 
Most likely I’I'll read something tonight about you. 

I won’t recite it from memory 
because I don’t think about you that much anymore, 
not even when I search for my socks in your drawer 
or when I put on the scratchy sweaters you give me, 
horizontally striped to bring out my eyes? 

I don’t remember your eyes 
except they are blue. 
And I don’t remember you, 
not even when I smell cucumber and apple, 
not even when I sleep on my side of the bed 
or when you walk through the door 
happy to see me; 
even then I don’t remember you. 
Does it matter that I don’t love you? 
Would it have mattered if I did? 

How about a few one-liners 
for the end of days?— 

Depression is self-awareness, 
which you’d know if you were; 
I need Ritalin to listen to you, 
Lithium to hug you, 
Viagra to feel you, 
and Valium to sleep. 

All you need 
is me standing there, waiting at home 
with turns of phrase and word plays 
telling you about why I hate Ayn Rand 
but want to buy as much as I can 
and how I love celebrity gossip 
and detest poetry slams 
and find rhyming trite 
except when I am. 

Hypocrites can still be right, 
which you do understand 
because you nod at my nonsense 
about fighting the man. 

But now, at the end of all things— 
I’m speechless and witless and pointlessly well-read, 
and you’re just sitting there, smiling 
asking me to pass the bread.

Details | Free verse | |

Artificial Love Song

I wrote a pretty love song
filled with lullabies
and starry eyes
and fingers intertwined.

Drunk with love
and forgetting my name
nothings the same
and my hearts all aflutter.

Memories of sleepless nights
soft pink lips
and fingertips
cause me to lose my place

Your hand on my cheek
lips on necks
passionate sex
and embraces so dear

Such a pretty love song
filled with memories
and sweetest dreams
If only it were real.

Details | Free verse | |

Another Name

Such a soft, gentle word
For an experience
With the power to
Shake the soul
Wrack the body
And flood the hollow spaces
Of the heart
The hot, hard tears
Of anger and frustration
The constant clinging tears
Of grief and loss
The uncontrollable tears
Of irrational despair

Someone should invent 
Another name
For the relentless pain
And shrouded darkness
Called “crying”
And free the word “tears”
To mean only the iridescent
Tears of pure joy.

Details | Lyric | |

Day after Day

There’s places and faces where I’ve never been
some of them laughing and living in sin
Some of them hurting from being alone
And the places seem part of my own
The rhythm is flinging these words in my head
Against walls that refuse to be bled
Riding on nightmares through darkness and blight
Then lazily cruising in dreams
In this odessic searching
For reason for being
Nothing’s as bad as it seems
But on turning away
In my off handed way
I’m so tempted to say
Another could view it as fey

Another attempt at explaining my motives for living and writing about it

Details | Cowboy | |

The Cowherd

On dark hillside
A lone cowherd
Wrapped in his blanket,
Gazed up at the sky,
Dreamed into the night.
A wisp of crescent moon,
A sky full of stars,
In his thought
He was asking:
Does my small fire shine up to the stars?

Details | Acrostic | |

Who Are You

 How dare you take advantage of me like that ,
Leaving me stranded with no way to go forward or back.
   Using the friendship that we had led me to believe,
That there was trust and honor between you and me .
   How you layed me aside and left me for dead ,
You have caused these hateful thoughts inside my head.
   Never could I have done this to any man , 
I can see you have no concious so I know you can.
  There just one thing I really want to say  about this ,
It's been a long time since I have made a clinched fist .
  You have no idea how much hurt you have caused,
It won't be me you'll have to face That's up to God
   But you will regret mistaking this kindness for weakness girl,
Bad Karma will surely consume you this is my word.
   Yes you were able to catch me completely off gaurd ,
Never again because now I know who you are .

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Details | Tetractys | |

The Staircase of a Soupy Addict

       log in
           feel the rush
                    of poetry
                           smiles to laughter…friends…words that brighten day

                                                                          Shucks, system error, page takes forever
                                                                       upside down U
                                                                 is my mouth
                                                             no dice…

---nikko :)
for Michael's Smiles and frowns contest ;)

...ok, ok addict logging out-- in a bit,,,hahahaha

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Leashed Down

Leashed Down

Bound by my hands
Bound by my legs
Bound by my waist 
Bound by my neck
I can't  hear
I can't  smell
I can't taste
I can't see
I put everything away and only thought of
What brought me joy.Nor do I want to
Cry leaving my captures to smile about
To gloat,to have that unknown brutal power
Over me which is held in one tear.
My  body numb,my heart is stopped,my mind is blank
Is this dying? Why am I paralyzed? Could it be falling a sleep?
These chains are cold but everything is hot.What feeling beside
Pity would become of me?..Be it not grief not sadness not even remorse.
But as I stand up from this seat,I am nothing more then a well mannered
Pup on a tight leash.

Details | Free verse | |

Invisible Ink

"My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear" – A Rambling Poet

Someone once said, “Write not what should not be read…”
He never knew what to do otherwise
for his pen was his only friend, and paper, his face
of which emotions made themselves known

Forbidden love touched his heart,
never knowing ‘til then that it could be 
the ink for which his pen would write

He seized that passion
and wrote ‘til his fingers bled, mindless of the pain,
numb with love.
The pain was superficial after all, just blood on skin
A flurry of letters that grew strength on secrecy…

Ah, but someone once said…
“Write not what should not be read…”

But how badly he wanted to be read…
the only problem is that word called

Love reveals, love betrayed;
hearts betray, hearts revealed.

It was all a ruse,
to let slip secrets that were never meant
to be known.

The pain now draws from the heart,
bleeding him dry, reaching his soul
to dehydrate him some more,
‘til Death becomes his friend.


She receives one last letter in the post
-a blank sheet, wrinkled…warped

Was it invisible ink?
On the contrary,
its message was loud and clear.

No words needed at all, just
pure sorrow of a heart and soul 
that wept

…her tears stain that paper now,
never enough to smooth it out.

August 14, 2011  149a219 
for Constance’s Just Write contest :)

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Details | Narrative | |


The rain slides off my hair,

soaking me wet.

The sky seems to be crying over me,

I don't care.

In the middle of nowhere,

without no soul to speak with.

Should I embrace my fear?

Tears are coming,

though not mine.

But I await my fate,

inpatient for all to end,

not worried for ones deathly drop.

I never had my laughing days on this smiling planet,

nor smiled at gracing sunsets.

No need for me to be where I have my wrongly self being,

in a world that doesn't want me in it!

Can't I be free?

escape, without it not labelled a sin?

My words doesn't breach a sound!

Am I bound to disappear with just one argument?

I now don't feel the need to fear,

useless waste from above.

But I do regret for what soon my breathless body didn't become,

maybe in the end it'll turn out to be all I was.

They will finally see,

a lost poet.

Instead you'll be seeing tears in my lifeless eyes,

like fallen old crusty papers,

with no expressions,

nor emotions of any kind that suits your almighty mind,

for ever no sense.

Throw away my heart and mind into dark flames of hell!

Feel my fury from the heat of not understanding!

All vanished within my last dying breath.

Don't cry for me,

cry for yourself.

Dead writing,

like me forever,

I was........


Details | Verse | |



Abomination scorn Affection Passion Yearning
Struggle Attempt Cherish Relationship Flame
Taste Tender Inner soul Bloom Bamboozle

I was a woman scorn 
Unknowingly  cherished a relationship
where the flame was no longer existent;
where time flew by in the distance and I missed
everything in my life I intended 
because I was accepting a me that depended
on him
I made an attempt to bamboozle the truth
and convince myself that he wasn’t screwing Kim
Ultimately I faked passion and lustfully feigned for affection
since I’d been betrayed
So, I got down on my knees and  I prayed 
I began yearning for knowledge of my Inner soul
I began to taste freedom and feel whole
The healing began and my consciousness rose - fresh bloom
It was no longer a struggle to end an abomination that would 
prove to be a path of doom

Details | Rhyme | |

Blank Page

Too long have I been staring at this cruel blank page before me, My crazed, hysteric mind screaming and imploring I know there is a message that's dying to come out— I need to fill this confounded page without the slightest doubt! It's a simple predicament to manipulate, Into a mass of thought A futile attempt to insinuate, Weak hints are left with naught I sit here in silent desperation, What can fill this page? I slap myself in indignation, My eagerness becoming rage! Like roaches sporadically running from light My thoughts are but a haze The words I write just don't seem right, On this cruel blank page!

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Controlling Men: Physically, Mentally, and Verbally Abusive Men

All men (the loser boyfriends/husbands) think that it's their right to be physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward their female companions (girlfriends/wives), well they're wrong. Most guys are always beating their girlfriends/wives up every single day just because they didn't make their men dinner, do chores around the house, or whatever. It seems that these womanizing losers are way better than their women. Actually, they're not; they're idiots. Controlling these women and being physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward them don't make these Neanderthals men; they're like childish cowards. All guys think that they're the only breadwinners in their families and the women aren't. But guess what--they're not; some of them don't have jobs. And does anyone knows what gets on my nerves? Men always cheating on their girlfriends/wives with other women, getting them pregnant, and not taking care of the children they already have. And those controlling, abusive men, they're always telling their female spouses/lovers what to do, what to eat, where to look, and who to talk to. I mean, who are these womanizing losers to judge other men and to boss these women around? I mean, who does that? Everybody doesn't even know why they'd bother spending the rest of their lives with those abusive idiots. This whole saying by these controlling abusive men have been getting on everybody's nerves and my nerves, as well: "You're-not-to-speak-unless-spoken-to," this "You're-not-to-talk-to-your-family" ordeal, this whole "You're-not-to-have-guy-friends," and this whole "You need me! You're nothing without me! You have no money! You have no friends! Everything's in my name: the house, the cars, clothes, everything I own! You're useless! You're worthless! I own you for life! And you will respect me!" Where I come from, the rest of us nicer guys, we treat our women with the respect they rightfully deserve. The last time I checked, the mothers have raised their sons to treat women and other people with respect, but they now know where they've gone wrong with those womanizing clowns. My suggestion for the women is for them to leave their abusive husbands/boyfriends before it's too late because if they don't, they'll end up in the hospital or the morgue. To be honest, these women, they never should've met, let alone dated or married those abusive men to begin with. And if these abusive men think that they can control those women forever, they've got another coming.

Details | Alliteration | |

We Beat Until We Battered

We sometimes drink and smoke so much We get beat until we are battered 
Our dreams were like one giant wall of glass where upon they were destined to be shattered
 Broken in a heap of glass we now stay occupied where lost souls continue to gather
 Dark yet so desolate living amongst those were nothing in life but a quick death seems to matter
 It seems as if the harder we try the more below we get needing somekind of ladder
 All I hear are silent screams among gossiping chit chatter 
Our truth is getting skinnier while our lies are well fed by the way the are getting fatter
 Crying souls overcome those that are filled with laughter 
The clock for many of us gets slow but our life train to death only gets faster 
Many of us which remain lost in addiction looking for a positive leader, a mentor, some kind of master
But when shyt hits the fan we must remain strong even if we just lost someone close and are feeling sadder
 If life is to throw us those curveballs in a the ring then its time stop mr nice guy and get badder
 You must endure the shyt that you got to endure even if it gets your hands and feet a little tathered
 Life can and will get you drunk so handle your drink or let it bring you down until you can no longer stagger
 You must tell yourself **** them and everybody else because you still got skill even if you aint got swagger
 Just tell yourself "**** they judgements" because you know in your own eyes you still look sharper than a dagger

Details | Lyric | |

I Can't Say It Without You

I was your never ending composer
We spent many a nights, and many an hour together
But now you’re lost inside
And I can’t find my way, again.

( chorus )
Cause I can’t say it without you		
It hurts to be without the feeling		
Never knowing when it will return		
But I know that you would stay with me	
If you came back, again some day		
But till then I’ll wait till you appear.	

I really miss the way you make me feel
People said we were meant to be together
Why’d you leave me so unexpectedly
I hope you come back soon.

( Chorus )

It’s been two months since I’ve written you
All I’ve got to show is crumpled bits of paper
The passion and creativity is now gone
So come back home so I can work it out.	

Details | Free verse | |

My savior

It’s been years and I did nothing but watch the walls crack
I look everywhere and see a glimpse of things I missed
I try to go back to do things that was undone
But what’s in the past can never be undone
I’m so littler now
Stuck in the jail of my heart 
Broking to pieces 
Barely breathing
weeping bitterly for my savior 

I’m sorry for I left you for so long
I’m ashamed of holding you
You were the only one who gets me
You’ve always been here through my ups and downs
And I simply walked away from you
I always exploded all my feelings to you
You did nothing but listen 
Never judge me with a glance
I’ve hit you
Threw you
Broke you
You’ve always forgave me 
And came back 

You always knew what was really there
I didn’t need to show you for you to see
I spilled my heart to you 
Without even saying a word
You just simply knew
You helped me find my words 
To show the world 
As it is from my heart
For they need lots of words to understand 

With just a movement of my hand
You helped me draw my dreams my thoughts my unspoken words 
On these wet forgotten papers	
Gave it a new life 
A new story to share

I promise ill never leave you again 
Forgive me, My Pen My savior

Details | Tetractys | |

My Pen Cries

                                                 Fills pens
                                             Within the ink
                             Hurt reveals itself with every stroke

                             Exposing that which I try to conceal
                                           Each letter weeps
                                               with sorrow
                                                  My pen

Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.

Details | Alliteration | |

One Among Many part 1

Chapter 1 
As but only one young lost man in a great land I sometimes don’t want to see what I see in life but death causes me to look. I don’t want to hear the things I hear but have to admit the things here that I’ve heard. I don’t want to be guilty today it’s why I continue to strive past my past for innocence in the near future. I don’t want to feel what I feel but after another day in this dark place has gone by I can’t hide what I have painfully felt. As but one young man I wonder why I question others motives and still can’t see the answers to my own as if I know all the answers to life when I don’t even know the true cause of my own. I wonder why I am happier at times but more often than not why I continue to be sad. I look for ones in groups of twos and get lost in groups of threes, but don’t get even me started on the groups of fours. On the outside world I am lost yet inside myself I know I am found, I holler silently at night while I quietly pray during the day. As but only one young man I can only do what is best for self-first if I want to start making a difference for two. 
Sometimes life for one can be fun, but on the reservation more often than not it is boring and dull. On the reservation I found serenity and solitude in the hills but I also found old savages and young Satan’s in the towns. I see beauty and peace in Mother Nature but I also found violence and ugliness among my very own in the neighborhood. I see not what I see and I think not what I think for I feel what I see which leads me to think. I choose rather to just be rather than not be what other people want me to be. I see what I see because I haven’t really got a choice in what I will see, I’d rather choose to just say that I saw. Outside people can’t make one see what I already choose not to see for I see what I see rather if they want me to see things their way or not. I can’t feel what they feel unless they feel what I feel and live where I live and be where I am to know where I truly am from to understand the thoughts and feelings of not only a young native of struggle, but as a person worldwide no matter the skin color.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Ex-Best Friends

Two people have broken their friendship ties because of either a disagreement or he or she has found out that his/her boyfriend/girlfriend had an affair with his or her best friend of one too many years. This type of betrayal has taken its toll on all people since day one. It seems that this friendship wasn't enough for him or her, especially when this guy chose this girl over her best friend and this girl has chosen this guy over his best friend. Why these people aren't best of friends anymore is because for one, his girlfriend or her boyfriend cheated on him or her with his or her best friend and for two, they've gotten themselves in a lot of compromised situations. It breaks the hearts of every human being just thinking about it. He or she, of all people, should know that they've been the best of friends since kindergarten and/or elementary school. So now that these people are no longer friends, thereby being "ex-best friends," I guess he or she has no choice but to move on with their lives. These people have broken ties from each other, eventually trying to rebuild them. But even if he or she has betrayed his or her best friend, one should be seriously forgiven for all the misdeeds he or she's done: trying to take his or her girlfriend or boyfriend, leaving him or her hanging, everything. These two people are best friends and they're all they've got. But the sad thing about two people being ex-best friends is that not only are they not talking to each other anymore, they've humiliated each other publicly and personally. So, if that's the way these two people want it and they want to cut off communication with each other, well, then two ex-best friends (guys and girls) have no choice but to wish them the best of luck and hoping that they'd forgive each other in the near future.

Details | Sonnet | |

The Melancholy Man and His Magic Pen

The melancholy man who loves a poem - into a hidden room will now descend to there unloose his mind and soul to roam; his pen, meanwhile, grows a feathered end. This implement can take away his pain and harness it. When disappointment surges, it marks his pondering in sad refrain; then melancholy poetry emerges. The plume dissolves. The poet lays aside his special pen, while to their deepest shelf, regrets return in his dark room to hide until released again from inner self. Like magic, when the quill begins to grow, a smile molds the lips of the man of woe. Tribute to Dan Tharp, an old poet friend that lost contact with me and others in the club where we met him. His poetry, though sad at times, can be beautiful and nostalgic. For Francine Roberts' "tribute by Sonnet" Poetry Contest

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Suicidal Voodoo

Chase the voodoo to sleep. sleepless freaks i see in the silver screens blocking the vision of me. there's no choice but to eliminate hate inundating the mind. please mute the voices haunting the airwaves making me blind. the big bad budding burden flashing red lights at every intersection. stealing away the insight i try to gain by using time for reflection.

It's a mess the way i test myself with deranged prophecies and bleak scenarios. replaying horror flicks in my head. blasting screams in stereo. all too often the worm hole shoots me to a mid evil castle of torturous devices. impaled in dreams that seem to be broadcasting punishment for succumbing to the world's entice and vices. but other times i fall victim to a good old fashioned "day-mare". people notice the self conversations and can't help but laugh and stare. I must say it's becoming difficult to blame them. if i can't learn to shake this voodoo, it's true my future's looking grim.

What do I do? they're gonna end up arresting me! Toss my ass in a padded room and throw away the key! and get i worry about getting sent away, the paranoia increases inside my head. i reach for medication increasing odds of ending up prematurely dead. I may be crazy, but don't take me for an idiot fool. and don't haze me about where my faith is, cus' this could just as soon be you. and i've learned enough to know that each and every one of us will die. and you may take me as insane, but me not taking my own life's got nothing to do with having a fear to fry. 

This is exactly why i choose to write as my mind fills up with crazy thoughts and throws fits. it's a therapy for me to try and work out all the kinks that make me sink, instead of cowardly throwin' in the towel n' calling it quits.

Details | Lyric | |

Beautiful Inspiration

Beautiful and inspiring is he,
Who sees the world through rose colored glasses.
If only he could see what I see.
His sight is clouded with unfortunate sadness and melancholy
He views the world from a birds eye perspective,
He sees the beauty of the world around him...
Yet true love and honest beauty,
Grounded in reality
He has neglected.
He soars on eagles wings,
Beautiful inspiration is what he brings.
Strong and confident is he,
Yet blinded by loves unsure indemnity.
A broken heart, the gift of his passion
Has left him standing alone...
My beautiful inspiration.

Details | I do not know? | |

That Place

A birth ends, another begins.

All is remembered, all is forgotten.

From struggle to splendour, from feeble to forever.

All is remembered, all is forgotten.

Will we learn today

From all whom have, the path, lay.

Will we turn the clocks of yesterday

And have it another way.

To learn to forget,

To learn to remember.

To strive only for That Place,

Where all is remembered, all is forgotten.

(In memory of R. R., 1986-2009)

Details | I do not know? | |


MUM ...
































Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Being Treated Like Trash

Every day, some people have always been treated like trash, especially by their tormentors. It's always been like that since the day they met or whatever. And come to think that he or she is way better that the other makes every individual sick to their stomachs. The fact that day in and day out, he and/or she is still treating each other like garbage, especially because of either a disability, a religious background, or any of that stuff. The only reason why the victims will have put up with those bullies is because of their parents and/or his or her so-called "friends." One person being verbally abusive to another is one bad thing, but treating him or her like a piece of trash is as troubling and hurtful as being abusive to one another physically, mentally, or verbally. It makes these people sick just thinking about it, even their parents. And no matter what those hard-working people do, no matter how hard they try, they're still being treated like trash by these so-called "big shots" who are way better than them. It seems to the ones who are way better than the others are so ungrateful, especially when these people have known them for years to come. On top of all that, people like his so-called "girlfriend," people like her so-called "boyfriend," and people like his or her so-called "friends" will have the audacity to disrespect each other. And no matter that day in and day out, these people don't even have the guts to stand up to their tormentors, including the ones who are way bigger and better than other. No one should be treated like trash and quite frankly, these people are sick and tired of it. Why can't some people start treating the others right instead of treating them like dirt and who are those bullies to pass judgment on them? Right now, I wish that these bad people were to stop being self-centered, stop treating these people like trash and to stop being arrogant. And if those tormentors continue to treat them like pieces of useless garbage, that's going to be a problem. Something must be done right now.

Details | I do not know? | |

Light child

A child is born
all loving, forgiving, honest,
a special child of the light,
eyes wide open, awake,
the wolves are happy,
to feast at the table of its suffering.
Feed it just enough love to survive,
milk it of its light, little by little
suckling its love, its forgiveness,
a sweet delicacy for a vampiric world.

The child becomes a young adult...
control, conformity, submission,
overwhelming expectations,
no freedom, no love, no peace,
a barrage of others suffering,
cant get it off me, out of my head!
out of my heart, it hurts!
Its all too much! 
Why do they all hurt me?
Why are they not honest like me?
How can they be so mean to me?
What is wrong with me?
I just want a taste of love, 
to remind me why I am alive!!

Details | Couplet | |

It's Time I was Moving On

Sad news today, February 6th in our year 2011
To "The Great Gig in the Sky" sell out in Heaven

My favourite blues rock guitarist, Mr Irish Gary Moore
Joins the "Midnight Blues, "Too Tired" no more will he tour

At fourteen years of age he received his first guitar
Like many budding rockers aspirations to be a rock star

The Beatles, Elvis Presley and the amazing Albert King
Heavily influenced this left hander, who made his right hand sing

As he grew past his teens, the genre he'd enter would mean
The likes of John Mayall's Bluesbreakers and Hendrix, now he's seen

Blues Rock it was to be, when Peter Green caught his ear
If you grew up with this maestro, you'll know his career

It started way back, way back in 1969
Skid Row, from Dublin he joined, as the music industry would find

This is where his association began, with Lynott, bassist extraordinaire
Many nights sharing the blues, this two Irishmen would share

His solo career just grew and grew, then into Thin Lizzy he would blend
Sharing the Black Rose stage with Phil his Irish friend

The blues became his life, with two Albert's who'd share his stage
Guesting with his 'Midnight Blues Band' many a jam they would engage

I now close my humble tribute, for he'll always be in my heart
On this day in Estepona, Spain, my hero in final depart

Details | Free verse | |

In The Landscape Of Cantaloupes

It learns while you learn
In the impossible dream of a mind on top of a tongue,
The landscape of cantaloupes
In the summer-fall.

The birds watch clamming towards barn sales.

My mother was a banjo up until the age of nine.
My father took the goat and sailed to a planet northward
When he was five.

When he was five,
When he was five,
When he was my age at the age of five and I became lonely
And felt much like now.

Yes I have,
I have written this poem many in anothertimesandnother.

Details | I do not know? | |

Song: I hear America singing (My version)

I hear America singing,
The girl next door sings her life with great aria,
As she gets the new Lexus she always wanted,
The boy in my dreams sings his sorrow,
As they bury his mom's coffin...

Have you heard their songs?

Your turn will come, my child,
Your turn will come.

Little Timmy down the ally sings warmth and comfort,
As his mom holds him tight from the bitter cold,
Little Angelica sings anger,
As her parents do not grant her wish,
A big pony for her birthday!

Have you heard their songs?

Your turn will come, my child,
Your turn will come, my child.

I have heard their songs,
I am the song they sing,
Will you come and hear their songs, too?

Details | Epic | |

Teen Pregnancy 3: The Reasons Why I'm Against Teen Pregnancy

I'm against teen pregnancy because it's a waste of time and energy. I'm against teen pregnancy because it'll alter the future of all teen boys and teen girls. So, every day, the parents had to tell their teen daughters to not get knocked up, and their teen sons to not get the girls pregnant. But no matter what the parents do to prevent their teen sons and teen daughters from ever being parents at an early age, let alone 15, no matter how hard they try, their teens just won't listen. It's bad enough that the moms and the dads have to just suffer, thereby being grandparents this early. Plus, it's a heartache for almost everybody. It seems that the backs of every mom and dad have been turned, even when their teens are going to an unsupervised party, filled with underage drinking. The next thing everybody knows, those teen boys and teen girls will have had unprotected sex and in less than 72 hours, those girls will have been either gotten STDs, or have gotten pregnant. After the babies are born, all teen boys and teen girls will have been stuck with their kids for life, which means no more going to parties, no more going to the movies, no more going to the mall, or any of that kind of stuff. Definitely no more hanging out with friends. Those teens will have to go to school, to work, and raise their children at the same time. And what's making everybody sick is that those teen guys are refusing to help their girlfriends raise their children. After all, those womanizing jerks, they got those underage girls pregnant. And the next thing everybody knows, all of the infants that those teen girls, who will have given birth to, will have taken over the planet by the year 2015. Those teen girls, they should've kept their legs closed and kept their clothes on. Those teen guys, they should've used condoms. And mostly, those teen couples, they should've waited until after their education was completed and they'd gotten married. This is starting to look like episodes of "Teen Mom" and "16 & Pregnant" on MTV and those paternity shows on "The Maury Povich Show." Now I know why I never became a father at an early age, let alone 13 or 17; it would’ve made both of my parents so devastated and seriously depressed. And if teen pregnancy continues to wreak havoc on every teen boy and teen girl in America, their parents and their futures, they’re doomed. No children until after education is finished and marriage.

Details | Lyric | |

Read My Words

Read my words
Can you feel 
their pain
that like a cross

and you will see
there is NO
inside of me

there is
the pain
of these

© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(December 8th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

Details | Free verse | |

Words No One Hears

Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION


Details | Sonnet | |

Mad Genius's Folly

He strove to be an abomination,
the bold Scorn of Affection and Passion.
Yearning to be free of humanity’s 
struggle to empathize, and to appease
those who hold onto ties with a tight grip,
attempt to cherish their relationship
with God, or another. He froze his heart
so icy cold, no flame could hope to start.
Never to taste the tender inner soul
of love that doggedly passed self-control
desperately clutched by a lonely man
puzzling only on logic’s bloom which can
bamboozle the most quick witted of mind,
yet leave aching hunger of the worst kind.

Details | ABC | |

MidNight Wishes

Even though i did not hear your voice tonight i'm still ahit,
I will go on like this for ever, i wont go out without a fight. 
I'll fight till the end of this life to win your heart,
All you have to do is tell me when to start.

The music blarrin in my head phones at 1:52 AM and i'm lovin it, 
cause it helps me remember your gorgeous smile like it was meant to fit. 
Wanting to feel your touch and kisses all over me ignites the fire in me,
Wanting to take you by your hand and run wild in a big sea. 

There aint much i can say to express myself but this will have to do for tonight,
I think its just that i haven't reached height.
You no I love you and that's all that matters or will ever matter to me,
I will love you till i die, like I told you before, cant you see? 

Details | Verse | |

The Saddest Poem

~A blank page with teardrops.... the saddest poem ever written~ © kashinath karmakar 2011 ===========00============ Placement: 5th; (December 2011) Sponsor:Rick parise Contest:Poetry on Poetry By: kashinath karmakar 2011

Details | Rhyme | |


It's sad to reminisce the memory of those
who have long left our world without a chance for goodbyes....
I was left behind for an unexplainable reason
to fulfill a task with a true purpose;
and still walking and breathing I go on,
gathering tiny fragments of stories never told by writers.

Sometimes I tell myself," Why was I continuously spared?"
" Why do I have to be the last one to leave?" 
Those answers will be given to me when I'll grieve,
and close to death : I will hear them through the voice of the Lord. 
And instead of receiving comfort, I will generously give it...
even to the enemy who once despised my honesty; 
and coexisting with everyone, I will uphold my ethical code and go forth,
not cogitating the mystery of my unblemished identity.

Many before me have achieved this by resisting change,
not adapting to the new moralities dictated by society,
but the result was too tragic and gruesome for all to accept reality;
and as lepers with open wounds, they still indulged in pleasure,
hiding their disease with canning lies and eloquent flair....
I would cut off my own hands, rather than share the unclean thing!  

And still walking and breathing, my arduous mission must be complete:
neither ridicule nor contemptible looks will make me put my rod away!
I'll stick to my convictions and move on to delight in another blessed day,
and as bewildered as they may be, I refuse to be compassionate...
they must understand the purpose of my birth,
identify those works and deeds that give me worth,
then the outcome wouldn't be short of a miracle;
and ebullient as they appear, I suspect they will tremble!

Details | I do not know? | |

Angry immortal

You dont need no friends
all they will do is hurt you
let them all go, why hold them up?
the family are so far behind,
they will never understand
we are so alone, in this life,
women want what you can give
i wont trade money for sex
or even a bit of attention
or a commitment of ownership
a culture of prostitution...

The poor people steal from you
the rich will rape you
not selling my rear for interest..
and the middle are just stupid
addicted to the drugs, the propaganda

I am the artist, the expressionist, the prophet,
alone, with one mission, 
where are my pleasures?
cursed to teach this selfish culture
pathetic humans, suffering
too stupid to give anything
complaining, whining, frustrated,

They are about to destroy themselves
a collective suicide of selfishness

The other immortals tell me to have hope,
to love them, to teach them,
They arent my friends, so busy 
teaching, and giving to the vampires. 

The christians love war and murder of others
They worship, punishment, hatred, and money
the buddhists wont stand up for themselves and fight,
the middle road is lost.
The muslims are too busy oppressing women
and praying for heaven
The jews know nothing of love, only greed

They tell me i should feel special
i have so much to teach and give,

Jesus taught them forgiveness
helping the poor, loving all people
they crucified him!

The afterlife is so wonderful, they say,
if you teach love and forgiveness.

I am in this life now,
and all i find is tricksters, liers and decievers
I am tired of being alone, 
The body is male, and only half of itself. 
addiction to female energy
no control, clairvoyance gone
the suicidal idiots have something right

I am cursed to sit here and learn compassion,
patience, how to inspire them
teach them to love, and give to others, 
all in the hope that they wont destroy themselves

Why cant i give up on hope?
they are pathetic, i am tired,
of the abuse, and anger, i evoke.

They hate me, unless i pretend,
smile the big smile, 
and pat them on their back for selfishness.
They love you then, 
I do not worship their god, of self-worship.
I wish i could, maybe i would be rich. 

living off of the blood, sweat and tears of others
how nice that would be, to relax, no responsibilty
to give or love anyone except my family.  

I am sure i will feel better tomorrow

Details | I do not know? | |


MUM ...
































Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Details | Free verse | |

A Silent Invocation -from bruished heart

Your separation has broken my morale,
Remained incomplete, I was writing a tale.
I wanted to write an epic,
With the ink of your love that I couldn’t seek.

Your dreams were my nightmare,
In lonely that pain I couldn’t bear.
Without you I was burning inside,
Take my writhe for you away on a ride.

Now I don’t want to live life with you,
Don’t send your memories even in few.
They are dagger on my rest and loneliness,
Now I will learn to live in the emptiness.

I had loosen my own identity,
To give you more importance than myself.
But, now I will live for me and for whom who cares for me,
You are no more there in my heart, it seems to me.

(writer makes difference)

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry About Poetry

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Details | Epic | |

I Have No Girlfriend

A girl of my choice is way too hard to find. Every time I see an attractive girl, I keep finding out that she already has a boyfriend or is happily married to her husband and has children with the guy. It breaks my heart just thinking about it. It seems that I'm trying way too hard. Maybe I'm looking too hard for this special someone. It also seems that I'm not good enough for any of the girls of my choice, let alone one girl who's about my age. Now that all of the good, attractive ones have been taken by random guys, I'm reduced to nothing. I should've met those girls by choice sooner rather than later. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, and no matter how many times I have to reach out to those girls from my past or whatever, I couldn't give her some St. Valentine's Day presents, let alone red roses, I couldn't ask her out on a date, I'm barely dealing with the fact that these girls each have boyfriends or happily married, and I've been rejected one too many times. I should be in a serious relationship with a girl of my choice and trust, I shouldn't spend Saturday nights in total boredom. But the fact that one of the girls I was interested in is with a guy who's way more attractive than I am makes me very sick. And no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it's just not enough for any of them. And since I have no girlfriend of my choice, even one of them outside my race, I'm forced to spend the rest of my life in solitude alone; thereby remaining in a real, depressive state. And every time I see a loving couple, it makes me depressed and they shove it right in my face. It's like someone had taken a butcher knife, plunged in in my chest, and yanked my heart out, killing me in an instant. I can't bear to handle this type of rejection. Well, I might as well die a virgin because there's just no point of me dealing with the fact that these girls are either happily married or already in multiple serious relationships with their current boyfriends. Being lonely and depressed and not having a female companion of my choice to talk to on a Saturday night is sad, and it's definitely pathetic. How legitimately disappointing. If I don't find me a girlfriend of my choice and I don't get married on time before my 25th or 30th birthday, I'm going to die a virgin. When will all of the rejection and the torment end? When will I stop being lonely and depressed? When will I ever learn?

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Teen Pregnancy 5: Out-Of-Control Teen Mothers

Those teen moms are and/or will have been up to no good, especially by going to unsupervised parties, doing drugs, and stuff. They had their babies not too long ago, but they continue their out of control ways, including by way of neglecting their own offspring? I mean, who in the world does that kind of stuff? It seems that the parents (thee mothers and/or the fathers) really should've kept their teen daughters locked up in their rooms and on top of all that, those underage girls, they never should've been teen mothers to begin with. On top of all that, those teen girls were supposed to concentrate on their education instead of messing around with those womanizing fiends. There's always a problem with teen girls-turned-teen mothers; they’re always having unprotected sex with multiple guys, drinking alcoholic beverages (vodka, beer, and rum, e.g.), using illegal drugs, and stuff. All teen girls should be ashamed of themselves, not taking care of the ones who’ve brought them into God’s green Earth. The only ones who’re responsible for getting those teen girls pregnant, thereby bringing the infants to this world are those dead-beat teen fathers. It’s their fault. They did this. They brought those kids into this world. What those teen girls should’ve done was to have told their loser boyfriends to use condoms, otherwise they never would’ve gotten pregnant. Not only have those out-of-control teen mothers put their own families at risk with their reckless behaviors, they also put their own children at risk, and it’s got to stop right here, right now!Those teen girls, they shouldn’t be mothers at an early age, let alone 13 or 17 and they definitely shouldn’t be putting their own children in a dangerous environment, thereby being harmed by those cold-blooded gang bangers and/or drug-dealers. The reckless behaviors of all teen mothers will have gotten their own children killed or worse. The employees of Child Protective Services and the local police are going to hear this. Everybody’s seeing multiple life sentences in the future and those teen mothers should not just be stripped of their parenting rights, they should also lose custody of their children. It’s making everybody sick just thinking about it. And if this type of ordeal continues to go on, it’ll lead straight to destruction. All teen guys, use condoms! All teen girls, keep your legs closed! And all teen lovebirds, keep your clothes on! No children until after education is completed and marriage!

Details | I do not know? | |


Our lives are like stories 
Like the ones found in books
We all play our part in the plot
But you were a bit more than just a character
Babe, you were a chapter

Chapters begin and end so quickly
So fleeting, like the way we would flirt
A heart-pounding beginning with a dry, cold close

I'm saying good bye 
This is for every time I could have cried
This is for every night that you forgot I exist
But I haven't shed a tear on you and, boy, I'm not gonna try
This is for every single mean thing you say
This is me deciding not to pretend I'm looking the other way
This is something I'm doing for me
So good bye, cause no longer will I be the girl who is blind

The chapter has sealed itself shut
So sit in your room and play some mean songs about me
I don't care, I know somebody with nicer hair

As a kid you must have been the bully on the playground
I'm done being the girl you give affection to and push down 
And I'm tired of standing on the sidelines while you try to run the show
I'm gonna move on with my life 
Prove there are things you will never know
There are things that books can't tell you 
Things only the heart can understand
You don't have one of those
So, pardon me, if I don't consider you a man

The chapter has ended but I won't shed a tear
The future's too bright for me to look back to darkness

Details | Acrostic | |

Love's Reverence, a cover of ''A Boat Beneath A Sunny Sky''

Chivalrist of pure intent
Honoured by the ears that lent
A tale recounted to content

Resplendant wonders brought to ear
Laments that draw an unseen tear
Evasion of the heart's deep fear

Soft young mind and placid eyes
Lucid to the tale's disguise
Unseeing the truth behind the lies

There upon the golden water
Wimsically listening to the lauder
Inclines the middle Liddell daughter

Days have come and years have passed
Golden evenings couldn't last
Erosionary time has swept too fast

Dreary dawns and bitter nights
Overcame the muse's might
Dead and gone, that fragile light

Greiving when his heart was tore
Secreted to land of lore
On through Wonderland he'll soar

Now to dream forevermore

Details | Rhyme | |

Good Writtance

What is it then, what good?
Never doing as it should
Tempest tossed from hell
Written close to me

Tears drain from the eye wells
Bitten close to hearts deep sea
Ink dries round the wound
Written close to me

Rejected again my friends
Planned out as a grand win
Cut this deep bitter sin
Written close to me

Good then to bed
Fateful bitter bled
Good I say, good
Good Writtance
Close to me

Details | Free verse | |

Bittersweet Bouquets

Poetry is bittersweet
sweet when the words
strain away the angst,
bitter as reminders
that do not wane.

I take these feelings
from a moment in time,
capturing them
in flowered words
and hold them there
like bouquets for the taking.

They do not wilt,
dry and decay.
But as I hold them there
my hand tires so
but I’ve grown this stem
in the soils of my heart
and am thus bound by every word I pen
subject to this blooming realization
that unlike me
will not wilt.

If you like this, and others, check out my book "As I Write These Words", with a full preview on Amazon (available on all online book stores, as well as ebook format) for many more.

Details | Free verse | |

Running Chestnut- Expression verbivocovisual

Run on the man														      He is a man who procrasti- 											          nate prolongs the claim of crafti-                                            							 ness locked with the formal expres-                     									 sions Priory pseudoconfusion I digress  										     Run on the man he is a man who's all right 										 in is his on conceits regardless of constitution                                         					 bill the people as good as pollution featured as depend-								 able character claims certainly due to omitted clever commend-  								 able like unauthorized to make that judgment who is expendable-                                                                                            	 You did not make the rules or give so what gives with breaking them     						 when no one is hurt by expressions but when where to their edification                                                                                    	 Do not live in glass houses and do not throw stones whoever you're a conception

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Farewell My 'Little Nemo'

I remember going to the next door store;
I remember a shelf of books
I opened one to see what was written within, 
To see the dry ink an author carved onto its pages
But, the book was empty and imprisoned with straight black lines
I flipped through some other books, but there was nothing too...
And so, I bought two with no idea how to free them
But, I knew that I would use them some day

A year passed and I remembered the two books I bought
I opened one and began my journey with it
I was eleven when my pen's tip laid its secrets onto that imprisoned book
I kept writing till one day, a new technology arrived
As the book lat in the dark for a while,
I didn't forget about it, for I introduced it to the new techno.
Day by day, I wrote some more
Day by day, topics changed; to learn more
Now, the once imprisoned book lay carved with so many words
Now, the once 'so' empty and lonely book lay to end...

I remember buying it as a 'Nemo'
And now it's grown to be a 'Journal of New;'
A 'Journal of Poems and Notes; of Quotes and Lessons'
Yes, it is no longer empty, for it is a book of 'me'....
My pen's tip shall no longer meet your pages, but
My hand shall flip through your pages as my eyes read the tales

Once upon a time, there were empty books
"I bought two with no idea how to free them"
One lay in my hands, while the other lay in my sister's hands
And now, I bid my book, my 'Little Nemo'

Goodbye, from my pen's tip, for it shall no longer carve your pages with secrets,
                      yet you hold my kids; my dried ink

'Little Nemo' you carry words from 'me' 
And I ask you to treasure them for they are precious to me...
Never let go, for I shall flip through your pages a lot more...
You are a book with and author; 'me'

Farewell my 'Little Nemo'

Details | Blank verse | |

Standing in the Darkness yet again

Once again trapped in the darkness with worded guns still trapped, 
Im just trying to make a statement that will make it on this American map, 
Im getting old as I only live this youth once so I best live it searching for light in darkness of black,
 Years gone by a lost youth going away time lost that I wont ever get back, 
So it best I get back on the track......... 
Now iz a tyme for flames hope I spark this, 
Poetry like mine many will come from places near and far and embark in this, 
I will literally be the found ancient lost seen lockness..... 
Lord please guide this soul as I am standing in the darkness......yet again....

Details | Bio | |

from father to son-

insurance policies 
laboured unto birth… 
the mythic glance 
of gentile gratification; 
the populist pariah 
sheathed sternly under glass… 
exhibited ad nauseam; 
pardoned upon the 
tandem bicycle, 
midst the callous cyclic queue…
from father to son…

Details | Bio | |

They Called Him Tiny Tim

Yeah they called him Tiny dam tiny he fitted through the basketball rim
 everytime they were out yeah he was hiding in 
yeah, while they were out he was holding back from enjoyin the young life of sin 
 but he cared little none for the drugz, the liquor or the shiny gin 
all he wanted was someone to care, someone to show him atleast a grin 
He was soo dam small people started calling him Nemo without the broken smaller fin
 while his peers were out making dough off dope he was out collecting cans of tin
 Light shone upon others dreams while upon his hopes the light remained dim 
He was hated on because the size and weight of his body, not the color of his skin
 half breed yeah he was as he played ball they laughed at how he came to their chin
 he was just a young boy living in a world of hateful men 
But he cared not cuz he would get the **** back up and try again 
they told him he would never BE 
that he would never succeed 
he would never be apart of something or anything 
but with a stroke of luck he doing something 
no more hiding and no more ****ing running 
People see his attitude and life now aint it stunning 
His life shooting off cant you see Tiny Tim with a Bazooka Gunning 
But now He living for something and dying for nothing 
he made it through high school while most his haters were frontin 
staying in school payed off now his life career is out on sidewalks jumping 
while he sees his past peers life out in the ghetto life with drugs and alcohol dumping
 He was gone for a minute lockdown but make way TINY TIM IS COMING

Details | Narrative | |

Whiskey Wishes

from this barstool i have sat waitting for some moment 
of insiperation to come to me 
But the only thing that that comes to me is
a bartender with another drink.

And in empty reflection lost in a jukebox's song
played by a lonley heart shooting pool.
I cant recall where the spark went.
maybe it fell to floor like the ash from a cigarette.

the page waits at home like a wife waitting in worry as her husban is off doing God knows  
what  so worried only wishing he'd return.
And when he does the fear fades and the anger kicks in.

The bottle doesnt hold a key but it does know me well.
I kiss it's fiery lips and cant resist it's charm.
so I sit with it passing hours in a dance that will end in
nothing but another wasted night  and a bitter morning taken
out apon my  mind.

In a swirl of hungover thoughts id leave half written pages.
To soon find themselves collecting with my ever growing arsenal  of 
drunken rants.
All ending bitter and cold.

But when the whiskey hits I'll make such great plans 
that will never be.   
I'll write that epic that will keep in the minds 
other writers.
And in the warm arms of women who wanna love a 
trainwreck just to say they've known what it's like.

Whiskey wishes are like sparks from a much larger fire.
the sparks fly off into the midnight sky.
only to fade befor are very eye.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Enough Is Enough

No matter what he or she does, no matter how hard he or she does, it's not good enough for the others. These people who've been trying way too hard to impress other people have been treated like trash since ever. The only thing that other people are good at is being way better than the others. And the fact that day in and day out, week after week, for the past few years, people like their so-called "boyfriends" and their so-called "girlfriends," people like his or her so-called "best friends" had the audacity to disrespect this guy or girl. It's just like when these people have been seriously rejected by their so-called "attractive peers" after they asked them out on dates or get together someday and because of the way they looked. The moment these people have forgotten about the others, it had finally dawned on them. It seems that these people never really wanted to be friend with each other or go out on dates in the near future, anyway.  And come to think of it, It's not enough for them. Some people are just completely ungrateful. After everything these people have done for each other, like ask them out on dates and/or offering them real friendships, it's like they've accomplished nothing. Even breaking their backs for each other, it's still not enough. And this type of rejection is making everybody sick, even me. Well, no more of being rejected. No more of being treated like trash. And no more being stepped on and pushed around. This type of rejection has got to stop. So as of right now, this ends right now! Enough is enough, and it's time for a real change!

Details | I do not know? | |

Willow Tree

Who do you feel like today?
Do you even remember my name? 
 It's been 8 years since then,
Has the willow tree we sat under gone dead?

 I wonder if you've changed,
if you regret your biggest mistake.
 Do you feel the sorrow i feel?
Is this pain the only thing that feels real?

 I feel no sorrow now,
I only feel hatered for the world somehow,
 How could you rape your granddaughters?
And Forget your own son, My father?!

 How could you do this to me?
The only way how i feel now is to bleed.
 I put no effort, no feeling, no thought,
In the war, 
 This battle in my heart
 How do you feel like today?
Is it easier to know that your safe?
 Outta jail they let you out,
Why so you can pay your road to hell?

 So i plant me a willow tree,
right above the grass,
 below the leaves.

 I lay here below this willow tree,
My only friend beside of me,
 The memories still remain, 
 But it's better off this way

Details | ABC | |

Verbally Twisted

My vocabulary might be a little bent and dented but its mostly twisted, 
a self-made dictionary with a little dark thought and white light in life and craziness itself mixed in it,
 I get up in the morn ready to take the day on after just one egg on a pancake biscuit,
 I got the recipe for verbal insanity just give me the egg beater and with this vocabulary I'll mix in it,
 break the word batter down like a plumber leaking water until I re fix it, 
I got one of kind writing style its too unique for any typical fool to ****en miss it,
 I got the entertainment on writing just ask me for one and I wont sell it I'll just give you a free Se7en King ticket,
 I get your mind thought high so high in the sky lifted, 
I can give a two flying ****s if my haters say I aint got talent because these words they self so freaking gifted,
 I make poems shake like earthquakes fools cant you see how my words already got your mind shifted,
 This poem is my girl I kiss it, 
This poem is just like my weed i roll up and ****ing hit it, 
This word written *****is so addictive, 
Drugs and alcohol so self-conflictive, 
now how can this king ever, ever quit it, 
These words are dying I better get some gas for this verbal car like weed everyday I better get it,
 I live the life of a young Shakespeare I write like I cant ever regret it, 
I put this poetry *****on the line with my own life dont think I wont bet it? 
So **** you, they, them, her and even me, yeah there I done said it, 
letting go of poetic gun shells firing poetic unleaded, 
shooting cowardice poets like paper shredded, 
where many young lost crooked souls go unfed den, 
watch where your two feet may be treading, 
you got to watch your surrounding so much they circle around the same setting, 
**** Life until death say's otherwise, 
I'm just kind of crazy like that I'm just a little TWISTZTED.... TWISTIFIED...

Details | Blank verse | |

A Thin Smile

I sat down to write a happy song
But the words won't come
And neither will the tears.

Details | Rhyme | |

Complete Man

Prolog:   This poem is about how much you need to struggle to ‘survive’ as an accountable and matured man. Child demands what he desires and the man sacrifices his desire, to fulfill the child’s.  It’s funny how you would be made a king for a day, and then a ‘somebody’, or even a ‘nobody’? Moreover, as you grow up, linearly, the problems breed exponentially like bacteria. Yes, it is true that the assimilative power to bear the offsets increase as you grow up too and how we breathe with the mere hope that one’s integrity pays back at some point in life. These verses symbolize the seldom hidden pain as adolescents in antithesis to the trouble-free life of a kid. Being a four year old playing with crayons, it’s all about you and your own little world!  
The journey is tough, the journey is loathed,
The journey is necessary, the journey is promising
From learning to put on the bow-tie,
To responsibly having the handkerchief in your pocket,
From experiencing the toughest times
And still standing upright like a ship in a storm
Like never before,
Manhood, here comes, like a raging warrior,
Resilient in form, stronger than its former,
And kills your innocence; darkens your heart.
The journey is tough, the journey is loathed,
The journey is necessary, the journey is promising
Life slips by ‘unlived’ and under cut-throat competition
Little merry-time, patchy hangovers and a far-fetched ambition
In trying to enrich and reclassify his social status
Life is yet adventurous, travelling rough miles
Reshaping himself, constantly adopting new lifestyles,
Every so often, he needs a little time, damn-it
In the end, faith grows numb in breaking the habit
It’s flabbergasting dad, how you stood up on your feet
Such burden of liability on the shoulders, how can one keep?
Politics was detested, conspiracy unheard of.
But now only has become an essential strategy for survival
Pain only makes him stronger,
Thanks Kelly Clarkson; that makes our belief finer
And brings a hope of fresh revival
How true Darwin sayeth!
Fittest subsists, and the rest are extinct species.
However, gratitude to such reformation
The inception of adulthood, cognizance!
Teaches him to be & believe himself; thus push his limits farther
Only critical moments, binds his relationships sturdier
The journey is tough, the journey is loathed,
The journey is necessary, the journey is promising.
Inspired by : friends, fam, eminem, linkin park, my fellow poets, my world

Details | I do not know? | |

I Really Like Her

Her smile and personality just builds within
but unlike my heart i dont know where to begin.
I wrote her poems and told her things.
I made her smile like no other human being.
Her curly hair and intelligence
made my heart so irrelevant 
to the point in which i sat and cried 
and sung some lovely lullabies.

Her beauty started our world
with a few men and alot of girls.
I want to scream her name right now
and if i do i will say it loud. 
Please believe that i got diss
that girl who talks just wants a kiss
but in the end i will always miss you.

One Love<3

Details | Rhyme | |

Scary Feeling

I feel like sl-lit,
i wanna flip.
Let my words rip,
come take a sip.

My phone keeps on ringing,
its chesney hawkins singing.
I get this scary feeling,
she's gönnä nail me for stealing.

I look at the sealing,
wish i knew what was the meaning.
I must start to pray,
every single day.

I'm smoking myself to death,
i need to take a deep breath.
Please don't make me fall,
i don't wanna end it all.

Details | Couplet | |

The Monster

The monster became a living, walking nightmare
my dive into insanity, no longer perfect, containing a blank stare

I should resist, the monster will find me, run away with me
Pretend to hear my meager complaints, force me to see what I'm afraid to see

Blame and guilt, volleying right and left, up and down
It's crashing me closer, with every step, I'm falling to the ground

It's all a game, just play along, play the game, play it well
Brimming confidence, dissolved in thoughts, of what? I won’t tell

Demons, devil born souls, run quick, run fast, stand my ground
No sense of fear, n sense of foreboding, not even a slight sound

High speed, pursuit of hell, bent on going, bent on crashing
Giving into the power, life's faster, lights flashing

Crash and torment me again, my eyes close after all
The beginning of the end for me, feeling numb after the fall

Is there a way out? I'm different, distant and moved on
Listen to the water, calling, coaxing into death, I'm gone

Endless, empty cloud; dreamless oblivion; oxygen, exhalation
Am I dead? Still alive? Broken into pieces, I need motivation

Reality closes in, walls me in; until there’s nothing there
Death comes behind me, containing a blank stare.

Details | Name | |



  S-  sanction
  A-  apprehension
  N-  negitivism
  I-  insainity
  T-  tentitive
  A-  accenssion
  R-  redirective
  I-  immobilization
  U-  under seat
  M-  man handle

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Real Aftermath

All of the aftermaths occur after the wake of a bunch of terrible events: Hurricane
Katrina, the September 11th attacks in New York City, War in Iraq, and others. these types
of tragic events and a bunch of aftermaths have been around since the day the world was
created by God. There's no telling what will happen next if these tragedies keep coming
unexpectedly and stuff. It seems to all of the Americans today that after these tragedies
like the deaths of their loved ones, the deaths of most U.S. soldiers, Hurricanes Ike and
Rita destroying Houston, Texas, these people are trying to deal with the loss of their
homes and other people have been mourning the loss of the ones who've lost their lives to
these tragic events or by the hands of evil people. The aftermath of those events have
been haunting the lives of all U.S. citizens since day one. What makes most people sad is
that they have to deal with the fact that their loved ones are gone and other people are
still trying to deal with the fact that America almost lost its innocence, even after
9-11. These events have been talked about on the news at 5:00 p.m., 6:00 p.m., and 9:00
p.m. This is so wrong, especially for us Americans. Tragedies and the aftermath of all
heartbreaking tragedies are starting to make us even more sad and depressed. Everybody
doesn't like it. And if all types of tragedies continue to rise and there's going to be
more aftermaths after those tragedies or whatever, we'll be in for a rude awakening.

Details | Blank verse | |

The Puppeteer

She's running toward the light.
She's chased it all her life.
She wants it all to end so bad,
But she will never reach salvation.

She sold her soul.
He tricked her.
The master of deception.
The puppeteer.

She thought he wanted more,
More than just her mind,
But that's all he wanted,
To put strings attached.

She has to break free,
Before he comes.
She must cut the strings,
Pull them apart.

But she doesn't know how.
She's desperate.
She cuts her wrist.
She thinks she just reached salvation.

But she just let him forever have her.
She completed the deal.
She shed the blood.
She killed herself.

Now the light goes out,
And she's all alone.
She starts to cry,
Then she hears footsteps.
He's come for her...

Details | Rhyme | |

Dawn of Misfortune

You’re the dawn of despair and gloominess
You’re the sunset that discards my gladness
You deceived me…you made me trek the road of calamity
You grieve for me…you yearn for my sympathy… but I overlook your pity

Horror strikes me, scorching away my destiny
My confidence has slowly departed from me…so what should I do?
Terror swallows me alive, now I’m begging to flee!
My self-reliance has disregarded and fled from thee…now I’m crammed with woe

Digest the emptiness that I feel deep inside
Heed to what I’m about to announce to you…
Digest the affliction that I brushed aside
Hear what I’m about to warn you about…it’s all true

You deserted me…melt the isolation that has filled us with woe
You brainwashed me…you tarnished my bliss
You captivated me…now I have nowhere to go
You terrorized me…you singed up my happiness

You’re the dawn of anguish and shame
You’re the midnight stars that burn with fame
You betrayed me…you made me cut down my garden…shedding fertility
You mourn for me…you long for my forgiveness… so I’m ready to accept your plea
What is the code that will animate your presence?
What is the code that will liquefy the ice of silence?

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Heartache After Heartache

It breaks people's hearts just thinking about the following: break-ups, rejection, and, on top of all that, depression. It seems that day in and day out, these people always have to deal with the fact that these people aren’t good enough for each other. This type of sadness has been affecting the lives of every human being since the day their hearts have been broken. What’s so cold about it is that every human being just had to suffer and suffer by the hand of their tormentors and/or being rejected by a bunch of cold, heartless individuals day in an day out. Come to think of it, it’s seriously pathetic for all of us human beings. Now these people know why they had to go through every heartache after heartache after heartache, day and night. It’s sad and it’s seriously pathetic, especially when these people will have wasted their time and energy over unnecessary things or whatever. Sometimes, people can’t even understand what they have to go through every day, especially when they’re depressed and/or tired. Why, those problems, just like multiple break-ups, have caused nothing but a bunch of heartaches, even after day one. And if this type of heartache continues to wreak havoc on all unsuspecting people, there’s no telling what bad thing might happen next.

Details | Ode | |

Prayer To My Self

Walking away might be the most hardest things for a man to do, you cant even imagine what that feeling can do to you. Falling flat on your face would be better than to look shameful, even walking around naked around the streets would be cool. But like any story in life goes, there is always that one person that will help you get back on your feet and walk again. No matter how much you fall, no matter how much you stumble upon a struggle, that person will be there with you till the end. Give love and thanks to this person who never leaves your side and helps you put a smile on your face everyday. When the day comes to an end and you know that the person has to go, all you can wish is for your special person to stay. Mine has walked away on me, I was so blind that i couldn't see. She wanted everything for her self, for me to change and be what she wanted me to be, but i had to let her go and never see this person again, cause it would only be worse in the end. Writing this is more painful than getting your body tattooed, writing this is more painful than getting over screwed. Writing this is more painful than words, writing this is more painful than razor sharp swords. No matter how much you try to let it out it just wouldn't come out, the pain is way to deep and its almost like its tattooed on your bodies gout. haven't i been hurt enough in this world, i just don't understand why i am being treated like this, is it cause i am better than you and have nothing to look forward too but my blue and black handkerchief? The cut was way to deep my dear, you just cant imagine, i have been cut and bruised for the last time, i can promise you that. No one will ever touch this body or hurt this soul ever again, if you wish to try so, go ahead and check it, but before that go ahead and get yourself a casket.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |


Every day, my life has been filled with regret. I should've found true love somewhere in
America when I had that first chance. I regret being diagnosed with autism, mild MR
(mental retardation), and OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) at the age of three. I also
regret not having a real-life girlfriend from another state, especially the State of
California. It seemed that I had an unfair advantage or whatever. Of course, I had a
somewhat good childhood, but it was almost as messed up as someone else's. The only reason
why my life is filled with plenty of regret is because I was supposed to have a perfect
life. I was also supposed to get everything right, that would've included my childhood.
Now, instead of being rich beyond my dreams and being a college graduate, I'm stuck with a
boring life. And even though I have no girlfriend or no job as of right now, the ones from
my past, it's them that I really feel sorry for. And those girls from my middle school
years and my high school years, it's them that I feel so sorry for, too. It makes me sick,
just thinking about a lot of regrets. But what I really regret most of all is that I
should've done something a long time ago, but there's nothing I can do about my past; it's
already done. Right now, I wish that my life wasn't filled with regret and that I knew
what my life would be like if I was born perfect and that I were to walk in someone
else's shoes.

Details | I do not know? | |


Hollow words have beauty
Hollow words are dead
Life has had no meaning
With hollow words' Godhead

So speak your lies
So scream in tongues
Your hollow cries
Are not enough
The world will turn a deafened ear
The world will turn a deadened fear

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Eternal Thirst (Jousting With Joyce)

How scenic is phrenetic fantasy 
While fulminating in the manic mind? 
It's hidden in synaptic revelry, 
Articulated, yes, but hard to find. 

The minor absolution one demands 
From higher born authority than self 
Is often held by strangers in strange lands 
Or brazen, raisin boxes on the shelf. 

The madness of the mad though sad is not 
Without a nod transcendent, in a way; 
Which forces Joyce to ponder over plot 
And not which punctuation to display. 

Now take your time and read Ulysses first, 
Before the Wake of Finnegan is shown; 
For Finnegan becomes eternal thirst 
Where cognitive resolve remains unknown. 

Now bitter battles still are fought with fire 
In hallowed halls of higher learning fame 
Where academic's fight with fierce desire 
To elevate James Joyce's brilliant name. 

Finnegan's Wake can make a man go mad; 
Incomprehensible at best some say. 
Such genius has a way of causing sad 
Reverberations all along the way. 

So read a Portrait of the Artist first 
Then add Ulysses if you have the time. 
But Finnegan's Wake? Unquenchable thirst! 
A book to blow your brain and bind your mind.  

Details | Sonnet | |

Last Supper – A Winter Sonnet

I spit the words you made me eat, and then
they land on you as there you stand aghast –
You cringe and stare at what you said; thick phlegm
bedecks your face, a white-hot, slimy blast.

They left a taste, a bitter paste of hate
and painful anger. Tongue to teeth, I fled
the room and slapped the twisted hands of fate
from off my neck as choking life-breath bled.

I tripped, you screamed and tried to grab me back –
Too late for that, and now we fall apart.
The precipice is yawning, grim, deep black
and down I plunge, my ending and my start.

The forge of stellar flame blows hot, then cold
as melting, sculpted frozen wings unfold

Details | Blank verse | |

Cost of Riotousness

Worn slowly become these token walls,
From calls which have torn from unspoken words,
Soon broken and falls with the sounds of the final horn,
Powering a scorn from years of past,
Repressing old fears, a voice is cast,
Supressing vast tears, choice expressed at last,
No longer quiet among the masses,
I will not be silenced until the anger passes,
My voice will be raised with wings and fly,
As the crowds gaze into the passion of my eyes,
And realize what I speak is not lies,
But as my words peak I am shot from the skies,
Like all those before whose message was seeked,
As I woke from the dream, the words were lost,
And I pondered the cost of riotousness,
If in the end, our message is lost within the mist...

Details | Free verse | |

Another Suffering Poet

When I feel bitter discontentment
I take out my poision pen to immortalize
The ones who have crushed
Me with their 
Gigantic, concrete boulders
Like many before me
Who cried tears
Of overwhelming sadness
Lingering depression 
And infinite lonliness
I have become one with them
For we all possess
The same quality
The need to be set free
Through the expression of 
The thoughts that haunt our minds
We release our agony through our poetic prose
Our words are few
But, they speak volumes
About what lies inside us
For my creativity 
Stems from the intensity
That roams within me
My open wounds
Exposed for all to view
When I compose
A melodic rhyme
It speaks of my angst
Through mystery
Making my reader
Look beyond the face value
Of my syntax
And search for the true meaning
Of which I was attempting to convey
My poetic talents 
Can only bring miniscule relief
From what has been
Creeping up on me
Following me 
My entire life
I hear the clock ticking
The hand is about to strike midnight
The fairytale is over
Time is running out
Like sand passing through the hourglass
I wait for the day
I muster up the courage
To turn on the gas stove
Sticking my head in 
Sylvia Plath style
So I can take my last breath
Ending my melancholic existence forever
For I couldn't escape the curse
Of my literary collegues
That preceded me
Whose lives were filled 
With despair and doom
Who spent their life tormented
By the demons inside their soul
Because I, like them
Couldn't stop feeling the torture
Of my past
When I laid down my pen
And closed my eyes
For I am just another suffering poet
In my grave
Decaying away
After a life wasted

Details | Free verse | |

An Attempt

How can I define to you in a rhyme 
This pain, melodically, that i acquired in time 
How can I make anyone feel what I feel? 
When all I know are lies, nothing is real  
Let me try and bring you down with me 
We’ll walk through the fires, then tell me what it is you see                       
Let me throw you to the loins blindfolded 
Stand your ground and see how long you can hold it   
Give me 18 years to diminish your worth 
I’ll be in your brain until you regret your birth 
Hide like I hid 
Only then could you feel pain that I did

Details | Free verse | |


On this parchment
I am forced to write
That of which I cannot speak

On this oh so delicate paper
I am enraptured
by my under lying thoughts

On this meager piece of material
And this once sharp pencil
I try to express the deepest of emotions

On this once blank loose leaf
That I now read to it's fullest
I find that though I wrote about nothing

On this one piece of parchment
About nothing at all it seems
Is full of something you feel, not just see

Details | Rhyme | |

Crumbs of Deception

...A poem dedicated to a character named Koreen Mae Garson (a lady, not a man)... 

Your love smokes me like a worn-out cigarette Your love blemishes me with bite marks You brush aside the crumbs…now I’m stomped on all over again Your hugs are constricting like a serpent Your hugs loses its passion…my fury vigorously sparks You abandon me cold-bloodedly, now I choke in harsh punishment Your treachery strangles me…you don't consider my screams of importance You snatch away my humility and leave me with the crumbs of shame Your arrogance plants a grave in me…you don't notice that I desire your radiance You ditch me with senseless remarks and you make me feel game You ruin my modesty You stole away my heart’s virtue You bruise my sustaining dynasty You complete me with rue Your conceitedness intoxicates me… Your arrogance underwhelm thee… You unscramble my remains and insert me with the liquid of corruption Your self-confidence leads me to never-ending fate…you disregard my joy You handle me with maltreatment/enchantment and smudge me with your provoking expression You crushed me with your cunning plans, now you made me hunt after my prized boy Your hatred penetrates me with lush, crooked trace You swap me onto the floor, now I’m smashed into smithereens Your smiles lose its splendor...your enlightenment gains disgrace You disown me carelessly…now I spilled your moldering beans You’re imprisoned by the chains of infuriating heat, Feeding off the crumbs of deception

Details | Narrative | |

Beauty and the Unpublished Author

Far away in a little town tucked in the corner of a map
Lives the girl who ruined his heart
And broke his life

While with him she would smile and laugh so sweet
Tender as only she could be
In his heart she lit even the corners so deep

With time she became his definition of life
In all he did he had her in mind
Life wasn’t life without him seeing her smile

As moments grew into weeks
The flower of his heart started to reveal its wilt
In her eyes no longer was the sparkle he was used to seeing

Winds carried awful odour of their disorder
Tales went round of her illicit exploits behind the counter
The man with the shop at the corner savoured all the honey she offered

At first he dismissed the whispers with laughter
But soon he discovered he was the only one on the other side of reality’s border
Yes indeed, another prince had taken over

Trouble was how sincerely he loved her
Problem was that even she had only love to offer
Issue was he hadn’t yet sold a dime of the books he authored

Details | Verse | |

Ode To Virginia

...for Virginia Woolf

Seashells hiss her mystery, leaves 
and flowers whisper her humanity, 
lambent lines of plangent wisdom, stories 
of charity coated with love and compassion, 
poetic and rich in description.

Shackled in a masculine environment, 
a room of her own 
to create her ineffable prose, 
a well-spring of joys and regrets.

A secluded stream disposed of her, 
weighted and swirled where detachment 
would no longer vex her, to heaven 
that welcomed her shimmering soul,
unsoured by an unfriendly world.

Details | Bio | |

All That's Left

I wrote you a letter-
In it, everything
I want you to know 
And how I feel 
After all this time.
Not a single tear 
Is shed-you're not worth it. 
Not anymore.
No hard feelings.
I knew you couldn't get it.
I erased
Reading it over and
Wondering if we'll
Ever speak again and 
What would be said.
Word after word, 
They disappear
Along with the bottled up 
Emotions I had for you.
Once the last word
Is gone,
All that's left
Is a blank page-
A new chance to start over,
And my name
That's signed at the bottom.
All that you left
Was a memory,
And a sad, confused girl
That grew and matured
Into a more realistic,
Aware young lady.
I grew to love you,
And I grew to let you go-
All that's left is a memory.

Details | Free verse | |

Drain It All Away

Drain out all the agony
Help me fulfill my destiny 
Catch the waves…it’s coming from all directions
And wipe that frown…

I’m trying not to break away…in front of you, I’d rather stay 
But it seems like…the clouds decide to fade 
I’m dying every day…I’m making time to survive this day
I’m drying… I turned out to be a hideous shade
I’m releasing the sorrow… clinging on to gloom... 

Your affection and glory
Set me free from despondency 
Stand up and face the emotion – your heart mends my infections
And don’t weigh me down…

I’m trying not to break out…but it sparkles in my bloodshot eyes
My sorrow is exposing… but you’re still willing to stay 
I’m caught in midair…I’m a slave, pursuing my demise  
I’m shriveling…I embrace your departure…I’m wasting away…
I’m soaking up the sorrow…poisoning my bloom…

Details | Free verse | |

How I Write My Sadness

Sorrow and pain—
buried in rhyme, with heavy 
strutting the pages 

of a poetic mind, 
not wanting 
his unknown reader to be caught
in his shattered life. Ah, 

only the ants can hear me cry.

Details | I do not know? | |

Life In Squalor

Squatters acquire the land
And no questions are asked.

Hovers litter the place
And open drains greet the eyes.

Stench queezes the life
But sellers defy the odour;
Frequent epidemic and death,
But the population continues to grow.

Nobody to care;
No questions are asked;
Sheer naked life,
Ever ready for the end.

Details | Quatrain | |

Am I a Woman or a Man

Who shall I be today
For I can be anybody I can
I have the freedom reign to roam
Am I a woman or a man

I operate under you noses
Leaving clues to who I am
Maybe it's in my character
Am I a woman or a man

Light or berry be I
Maybe sad because I need to be scanned
To many I am under your skin
Am I a woman or a man

So many of me are around
In deranged open game plan
But will you ever realise
Am I a woman or a man

Details | Free verse | |


On the sidewalks of beautiful and opulent Waikiki, in step with the wealth of nations, a homeless society, lapping at the scraps, sleeping in doorways and beach park benches , amongst affluent foreigners, under cover of shady scenic banyon trees. She wanders elite avenues in search of her oasis, dripping with the pretentiousness, of a Starbucks cafe gourmet she mused, sipping a double mocha latte with extra froth, topped with shaved chocolate , and a "touch"of Madagascar cinnamon from a hot- cold cup, that she holds with shaking hands, dirty, broken nails and then she dabs at the corners of penciled lips, outlined several times in contrasting color, with a bit of the sleeve of her second hand denim designer jacket. Putting the cup down and picking up the designer copy of a pen that skips occasionally, needing to be tapped on the edge of the table, she pauses for thought and begins to compose a napkin sonnet for a needy friend

Details | Free verse | |

Your Insight

You are powerful even in the darkest of days... I prayed for Your insight
Night and Day...every pondering moment.
You responded to my prayers in many unique ways...You made my spirit take flight 
What should I say? You scrubbed off my lament. 

You relieved me from distress
You fearlessly strengthened my hope 
and frayed my fear
Now I'm in high spirits with freewill and delight...
and I must confess
You wiped away the boundless tears, shattering my negativity...
your love is crystal clear now!

Am I still that hovering angel...yearning for some light?
Am I still that naive spirit, giving in to the darkness and seeking plight?

I know God loves me, but I doubt Him still
God revealed His love with my whole family...but i don't feel right
I know God cares for us, I see no sign of Him or His will... 
God dealt with us with patience and kindness, but I can't yield on to His radiance so full of might

You are fruitful even in the darkest hours...I prayed for Your delight
To fall upon me day and night...effecting my every thought process
You promised me Your blessings and upcoming Kingdom every time I consider Your Word... You made my dreams come true and lingered around me despite
My bitter, spiteful words that I didn't mean to say... Is there any hope that I'll ever be successful during this time of cheerlessness 

But, I believe God is a merciful creator!!

Details | Free verse | |


Bleeding so painfully...I escape the light
 I try to forget the hardships...brewing in life
 But, it's too hard to live this life...this life
Breathing so heavily...I fade away into the night
 I try to forget my slits me like a knife
 But, it's too hard to live this life...this life
Fight away the monster in my heart
 Throw away my sorrow...Take away my wretchedness
 Burn away the hideous rage...tearing me apart
 Take away the anger...renew my joyfulness
Oh God...please forgive me...
 I long for Your cheerfulness... to set me free!
Bleeding so dreadfully...I pray for delight
 I try to pray for mercy...for this pain is too much to bear
 But it's too hard to live this life...this life...
Fighting back tears...I discover His light
 I try to pray for comfort...and I know He is there
 I pray for His scare away the strife
 And escape from the darkness
I look forward to the afterlife
 When there's no sorrow or pain...
      When there's no evilness...
   no craftiness... 
That time will come!

Details | Free verse | |


I said
"I love you."
And I stood there.
You spoke not a word
Just stopped there in shock
And I watched you
For a reaction of sorts
What would I get?
Love in return?
You spoke not a word
But your silence spoke volumes.
I turned to hide the tear
Rolling down my cheek
I was a fool,
I'm sorry I wasted your time,
I'll go now.
Don't worry,
Don't say a thing now,
Your silence spoke for you.

Details | Lyric | |


eventually everything loses its touch
eventually everyone gets rid of their lust
and when you can no longer pretend
that everything eventually comes to an end

it'll all come down in a bad way
no one not even you can stop fate
so why bother why even try
because all of us will eventually die

im not stupid
im not going to believe their lies
im not naive 
and im not going to give in this time

trouble all of us will eventually meet
i guess you think a fool i must be
but the truth is so full of heat
the odds i guess no one can beat

im not stupid
im not going to believe their lies
im not naive 
and im not going to give in this time

and this pain fills me
wishing i could escape this destiny
but whats meant to happen will
i wonder how does that make you feel

the truth makes you so pail
slowly we're losing to this hell
in this life we're all going to fail
and we can't escape this jail

baby listen to me yell

im not stupid
im not going to believe their lies
im not naive 
and im not going to give in this time

eventually you will give up 
eventually your words will be left in the dust
eventually you will lose your shameful lust
while everything has already lost its touch

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


If you want to be a writer, you might as well forget money, forget richness, forget happiness, the ink pierces your skin- in, out, in, out, such a pattern of mourning- it strips all pride in hopes you'll quit- give up- like they all do. You might as well sign the contract of death- to die before any work-if that even is published, or merely acknowledged. The steps of becoming one with the pen, and page- begin with hurt there's no way you can achieve a smile when a thousand doubts are slapping your face. Mocking you so you're locked up in your own world- without a key. The pity emphasizes the fact you're unknown and from that you always will be hopes and dreams are stomped on while you continue to change the world with a single line- 7 syllables; I want to be a writer. Well of course you do- but can you run through the eternal disaster? Hoping you get through without a single scar single scratch, blood only kept within. That's the defining moment- blood seeping through- searing feeling of the climax and then it all ends.

Details | Free verse | |

Do u hear

Do u hear my call only in words

Or do I need to be in front to ‘be’

In your thoughts; in your feelings

Sometimes my pen is dry with tears

It shed; thinking only when it bleeds

You reply, you reply, you reply…

Details | Free verse | |

I Hate this Poem

I hate this poem.
I wrote this poem, it is my work 
but I don’t like this poem, I wrote this as I 

watched an old man sitting on a park bench, 
reading, he would read a few lines
then look up to stare out at the world,

then he would drop his eyes
to read a few more lines; 
of what I think was poetry,

again he would stare out at the world.
Yes, it must have been poetry-
good poetry, at least to this man.

When he finished reading and
closed the book he sat there
with a soft, sad face, his eyes were

full of tears and he just stared out…
thinking of a lost love perhaps or
a long-a-go memory.

Maybe he was pondering the struggle 
of life; the quiet of death. I am only sure  
that he had read a perfect poem.

To that man, on that day, he had read 
the perfect poem and the poem he felt, 
he made it his own, taken it to heart.

But he is gone, never to read poetry
on that park bench again, never
will he read this poem my poem; that I hate.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Prose Mine Prys

‘At play with words’

Cork thine eyes 
Cloaking lucent verbose halls 
Surely binding shutting tight 

Cork thine eyes 
Clutching goblet sipping falls 
Drunk seduction bending sight 

Prose mine prys 
Gather up my scrolling drawls 
Paging through the spite 

Prose mine prys 
Splitting metaphors with mauls 
Swindle word codle the blight 

This poem explained

Shut your eyes 
Shade your bright and wordy thoughts 
Absolutely shut off your mind 

Shut your eyes 
Drink from the fountain of lies of the rich 
Allow yourself to be seduced and become blind 

My ordinary words chip away 
Read what I have written 
They are memorable moments of contempt 

My ordinary words chip away 
I chop up what I write with metaphors 
The negative meanings of what I write deceives with tenderness


Details | Rhyme | |


Delicate one
Gossomer glass
We hoped without knowledge
that this too would pass

(For somewhere a rainbow
whispers your words
Bending and stretching
to hear and be heard)

Delicate one
Candle in wisps
Breath to the sky
in a circling kiss

(Shadows were heavy
and troubles were nigh,
and now, without knowledge,
we tenderly cry...)

This is for Brandon Basson, who, I have learned, passed away the morning of June 20th.

Details | Free verse | |


eyes closed 
I blow 
emptying my heart..
The sad bubble rises 
carrying my woes

Details | Rhyme | |

Heavenly Tree

Ghostlike rage Haunts me…it smothers me… I can’t handle the smell of burning sage It overpowers me…will I EVER be free? Sweltering rage Grasps on to me…it bothers me… I can’t expose my courage on stage It’s horrendous…will you EVER pay the fee? Childlike mirth Reigns upon me…It chases after me... I can’t let loose my youthful imagination, flipping page to page It towers over me…will I EVER joyfully flee? Heavenly birth Recoils from affliction… tracking me down… I can’t shed the grief that lead to rage It pulls me back…will I EVER be a budding tree?

Details | Free verse | |


Is there a purpose for struggling,
enduring trails that could be been avoided?
What motivates an individual to surpass
any conceivable build a concept?

A normal person has less cares than a genius;
no passion for art or interest in science,
so aimless is that existence...
resembling a shadow passing. 

A philosopher once said that
legends are made by dreams,
by each stage as they are woven,
but their inner voices are as faint 
and distant as raging waterfalls
descending steeply, to splash in rivers below;
and to hear them, you must get closer enough,
until their loud sound can deafen 
the ears and astonish the eyes...
Oh, I have contemplated them in sheer surprise!

Nobody ever sees a thinker's curved back
posing on the water-splashed, cracked rock;
if civilization has betrayed his idealistic thoughts,
accusing him of insanity and prejudice...
how can dark minds be lucid enough to discern
what he sees in images of true perfection?
And he will be another outcast detested by society...
for having demonstrated a superior mentality?

Go to the highest hill, amid the rugged mountains of the South,
and find him in the same spot meditating
over a glorious view that the very learned once admired;
go and comfort him with a friendly hand-shake,
and amply confirm that his action wasn't a mistake,
but a challenge and a cause worth-taking!
And his testimony, that all legends are made by dreams,
is found in his prophetic and exquisite writings.

Details | Cinquain | |


Blank thoughts...
dead like sardines
in a  can  I bought at  Cosco's,   
deprive me of freedom's
sweet words! 

Details | Free verse | |

He Cured Infection

The hardships of my life
Are like a clump of maggots digging through my skin
They are deep within...
How do I inspect them? Where do I begin
When I am in profound distress and sin?

I’m infected…but yet You healed me from all illnesses
I’m defected…but yet You cleanse me from any blemishes or messes
I’m dejected…but You certainly lift up my spirits
But I’m far from being resurrected…I’m ruefully neglected

Jaded by the nightmares…striking me with discord
Like a released sheep roaming in the plains of fate
How do I encounter with my shepherd?
Are we ever going to integrate?
When I’m a lost, stray animal…trampled down by a frown,
Worn-out by my regret and knowing my demise is my royal crown
I’m infected…but yet You healed me from all diseases
I’m defected…but yet You purified me from any filth or squalidness
I’m dejected…but You certainly lift up my spirits

I’m infected…but yet You healed me from all wretches
I’m defected…but yet You cleanse me from any blemishes or messes
I’m dejected…but You certainly pumped up my heart
But, Lord I’m far from being resurrected…I’m contritely mistreated
I’m infected…but yet You dealt with all of my despair
I’m defected…but yet You cured me with blessings you address
I’m dejected…but You definitely rely on my faith that I kindly share
But I’m aching recklessly…but I’m still in progress!

The tribulations of my life
Are like a cluster of wasps, stinging me with vigor in my shin
They puncture me deep within…
How do I infect their nests? Where do I begin
When I am in profound melancholy and cave in

Tell me, Almighty Lord, why do the demons ensnare me with their curses?
They won’t break the tension…in these godforsaken verses!

Details | ABC | |

that night

I walked in the house.
you were on the couch.
the whole family was there.
you said to me i was not good enough for you.
i said what are you talking about?
he said i dont love you anymore your just not good enough.
so i left the room crying.
then it was all a blanck.

Details | I do not know? | |

Just Thinking

Why even bother.
Stop reminding me of irrelevant notions,
You know that they don't matter anyway. 
I'm tired of hearing lost thoughts inside your head.
"Sorry I was just thinking about what you said...".

Ah, so now you'd like to talk about my day?
But where were you when I needed you the most. 
Lost in someone else I suppose.
I'd really love to hear your silence instead.
"Sorry I was just thinking about what you said.."

They're only words!
They always have been to you, nothing more.
Priceless little nick-knacks safely tucked away inside a drawer.
You're kidding right? I think I'd much prefer the emptiness beside my bed.
"Sorry I was just thinking about what you said...".

Don't bring my writing into this,
It's the only thing that won't deceive me.
Much more loyal than you, honey please believe me. 
Hate me? Fine. My loving looks are cold and dead.
"Sorry I was just thinking about what you said...".

Details | Rhyme | |


Gentleness invokes kinship,
more than trust's oft biased recommend,
that fills my warranty for beauty's own in crypt,
I thank thee God, for measures in contend!

Forever, in that beauty were love's tend,
the faith between true friendship might erupt,
still it is forceful, deft attainment's quip,
mere looking gives to Soul, some filling up!

And see thee still, in all my eyes do ground,
wherein love's mercy must have contemplate,
if it were loathsome in some vile resound,
my heart would not have of these words found state!

Oh beauty, you are mine, not underrate,
the vestige I did yearn to so expound,
when will is chastised so, the quiet sedate
does moisten my eyes swell, no more impound!

Thy beauty love, be love, in nature's gate,
the seaming center of this garment's strung
holds empathy as moment's turn belay
the love that I do feel, be inward sung!

Details | Quatrain | |


Putting thoughts on paper, connoting their portent;
contesting guilt by being lyrically concordant
with symphonic tones of poetical elegance,
expressing a mere necessity rather than extravagance.

Details | I do not know? | |

His Biggest Fan, Even in Sorrow

My heart is heavy,
down to the depths of my soul,
and I want to cry out,
for this disenchantment is taking it's toll.

My sorrow is evident,
my disappointment too,
how can something that came from me,
think so little about what they do.

To them its a passing moment,
a quick step in time,
but the consequences can be grave,
if they continue along this line.

Will what's going on 
to a serious crime lead,
or is just a teen curiosity?
Will he from this lesson take heed?

I can only advise him,
and direct him as best I can,
letting him know my disappointment,
and still assuring him I'm his biggest fan.

Details | Free verse | |

Family Tree

Our family tree will never stop growing…our faith and comfort will never crumble
Love grows here…so have no fear—God is near
My family, though packed up with pride and low self-esteem, still appears humble
Mirth produces joy and our hope gives birth to cheer

God is our Father; who could play this role as skillfully? Who, other than God, created the world so genuinely?
Love comes from He…so scare away the anxiety—God will grant us ecstasy
My family, though packed up with hope and despair, cherishes my soul with glee
Rebirth and life comes from He and our faith should draw near to thee

"i love you sweet boy..we will have fun this summer and be a close and godly family..nighty nit my light"
This summer, I am positive that we will be a close and godly family
But we must be lights of the world…and we must be willing to finish that race of hardships to earn His dignity
By all means, we will have an enjoyable break without paying a fee
But we must be God’s faithful followers…and we must be prepared to follow our Shepherd who is the key

Of never-ending faith and comfort, nourishing us abundantly
He still exists…He unravels the insanity
Of this world and set us free from blasphemy
Watching over us with pure vitality

Give us Your water
Don’t leave us in the gutter
Listen to the words we mutter

I pray that our family tree will look up to you devotedly

Details | Rhyme | |

Three Ts

Three R’s – are they still relevant
Or do you wonder where they went
They’ve been replaced it seems to me
By something let’s call the three Ts
Reading, writing, rithmatic
Have been replaced – they didn’t stick
It’s now texting, typing, tapping
That has the kids all yapping
Pen and paper practice – no longer being done
Everything is keyboard – cursive? – There is none
Soon there will be adults that practically are lame
When handed pen or pencil and asked to sign their name
They’ll want to use a pointer and a list from which to click
For one who still likes writing – this future makes me sick

Mdailey	7/10/11

Details | Rhyme | |

Dreamscape of the Lovelorn

As I sit once more in this chair,
trying to fit word to page in some nice way,
inspiration seems, this evening, rare;
my muse is distracted, keeping melancholy at bay.

I long for a soft, pliant embrace,
shared by a maiden draped in silken thread;
moonlight brightening her already radiant face,
and her enchanting smile, at what could lie ahead.

Her shining hair pours down her back,
like the rain in which we stand;
the right way she seems to lack,
as she looks to me for a guiding hand.

These hands glide down, around her waist,
and slowly we begin to dance.
Underneath the stars, our own new path is traced,
as we float along, in our lover's trance.

The feel of her, so near and so warm,
I cling to, like a drowner's lifeline;
her every sigh, her very form,
beyond my imaginings of the divine.

To go on like this, held enchanted
in her eyes, serenity's sweet founts,
I feel would be my heaven granted;
my trials, her affection surmounts.

The haze shimmers, the dream recedes,
leaving me dazed, shaken in its wake;
as ever and always, my heart bleeds,
craving an end to its boundless, yearning ache.

Details | List | |


Never Forget
Shed A Tear 
Wave Goodbye

Details | Idyll (Idyl) | |

Hated from my fear

Scared and lonley
hated from my fear
A part died inside my heart
A part unnoticed thats gone blind
Scraming in silence
Nightmares waken in tears
Wounds to deep to ever show
Suffering I always keep within
sideways falling
entering threw a rolling tide
Memories frozen
Never could i keep alive
Scattered dreams
confused from my soul
Trusted to well
confused by the touch of you
Lay down the threats that real
Forever pushed under
somethings never can be erased
Mentle tears never can escape
Middle of nowhere-
This world I hate
Scared and lonley
hated from my fear

Details | Free verse | |

You Are Jamming My Dreams

I wait crossly
To get picked up straightaway
I wait optimistically
To step into the murky bowels of my car

I can’t advance…
When you’re dragging me to your feet
I can’t progress…
When you’re motivating me to be incomplete

I wait at ease
To get a ride home
I wait with heaps of crotchetiness
To jam myself into the jumbled car

I can’t drive on…
When you’re creating traffic in my dreams
I can’t carry on as fast
When you’re taking your time on the freeway,
Though your obedience beams

You’re jamming my dreams, sweet dream catcher
You’re liveliness gleams…It’s not what it seems... (2)
It’s certainly not what it seems…
Blame it on my dreams!
You’re just a dream come true…
It’s nothing that popped out of the blue…
It’s not that surprising
If you only knew…
Oh, you don’t have a clue…
This infatuation is positively true!

I can’t move on…I can’t drive on… (2)
I can’t ride on the road to victory…
I can’t burst forth by dashing proudly
Until you hit the brakes and cease from
Jamming my exotic dreams

I can’t travel on… I can’t light up the sky…
I can’t dream on and on and on
I can’t drift on and on
I can’t…I can’t move on
I can’t… I can’t!
Until you inspire me to gleam!

(the whispers grow soundless)
I can’t drive on…
I can’t drive on…
I can’t drive on…
I can't...I can't...
I just can't,
Dear friend...

Details | I do not know? | |


Though the crease begins to crumble
These old pages still run blue
Currents pulse beneath the surface
Pen-leaked ink that bled your truths
Pen-spun words that writhe like veins
Under skin and paper skies
Cold to touch, crept through your core
Settled clear in frozen eyes

So I’ll read you like a book
And I’ll write you pretty lies
Just to fill the empty space 
That’s revealed between the lines
Won’t you move a little closer?
Let it spill into your ear
The tide of breath that harboured
All the words you want to hear

Well I tried to kiss it better
Blood and bones to fuse the cleft
Bruised and broken, lips split open
From the effort, nothing’s left
So you say that I’m a sinner
Preach of hearts and ribs and fists
Well I may have made the plunge 
But you revelled in the twist

Now you’re tearing at your wounds
Sanctimonious with pain
Because it helps you ‘hear the music’
Yeah, it helps you play the game
If I pour a little salt
Will you smear it in your eyes?
Feel its grain twist round your lids
As you soliloquise

About the blame you tried to forge 
All the nights you wept and claimed
‘You can’t comprehend the world
Balanced firm between these blades’
No one told you it’s a lie 
And the story really goes
Constellations, superstitions
Are that Ancient’s only load

All the pretty rhymes and perfect crimes
You try to hide behind
Well they just serve to remind me
How you once spoke those old lines – 
‘Your tongue is as a rudder
Guiding vessels safe through storms
Moving mountains with inflections
Making ripples in reflections
Hollowed hull meets hallowed shores’

Details | Free verse | |

Few Words

Don’t be sad, be melancholic
Don’t feel glad, feel Quixotic
In aims to articulate
You become everything you hate

All in
Few words

Don’t be sorry, be repentant
You’re not pissed off, you’re infuriated
These memories become
Pieces of a future whole
But that whole is always in the future
So you become a hole to fill with films and literature
An unending and unerring opening
It goes on into endless night

But the next time you’re stifled
Caught for words, tongue-tied
Just say what it is you know
Don’t pry for the superior

“I love you”

There’s nothing more than 
Few words

Details | Lyric | |


It's your first poem,
and you expect to win a contest?
Do you have talent and have
written your best?
I have worked hard 
at scribbling every line,
and accepted with honor
the awards given to me in fairness.
Don't accuse anyone
of being unfair and guilt of favoritism;
many good folks are getting hurt...
read their work and realize
that they have deserved their wins!
Envy comes out of an angry heart,
so full of evil that it cannot reason;
and if a poet doesn't appreciate
and discern what good poetry is...
who would pick up the torch,
be admired by his voracious readers, 
and be acclaimed as one of the greatest?

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Details | Epic | |


Sat on the ground today
Felt like I needed to fly away
Everything I did was wrong
Maybe I just don't belong
Tried to focus on my career
But you complained about the year
I want to do what I think is right
But you just say goodnight
Maybe tomorrow will be better
If not, I'll just write a letter

Details | I do not know? | |

Nosce Te Ipsum

I am
more than
my words
I am flesh
these tears
proof of a
wanting heart
who holds you
in the deepest black
if not the soul
that flows
from this pen
if not the woman
who folds
this paper carefully
so as not to disrupt
an imperfect thought
I would have you
hold me, but
you are not here
as often
as I

Details | Ballad | |

Get Little

I hopped on a south bound

with my head in the clouds

thought I'd prove a few wrong

maybe make a few proud

but just like every other time 

there's no rhyme or reason

just a reason for a rhyme

I must be out of my mind for crying out loud

I'm gonna get little Lord I'm gonna get small

Gonna keep on shrinking till I'm not here at all

just me and the molecules with plenty to spare

won't take up too much space won't breathe too much air

I never meant to be "touched in the head"

It's seldom clear to me, what i just said

I know I'm better off living and breathing instead

cause I already know what it's like to be dead

The baggage that I carry with me

I just bring along, 

for my daily dose of self pity

and the occasional song

Honestly I'd love to be

what everybody wants to see

but all these years have made it so clear

that it just ain't me, it ain't never gonna be

the right, the left , the middle and the status quo

Have in no uncertain terms given me the old heave ho

time to go now

 I'm gonna get little Lord

I'm gonna get small

gonna keep on shrinking till I'm not here at all

I won't have to hide what I ain't got 

won't have to worry bout who I am not

I'm gonna get little Lord, I'm gonna get small

Gonna keep on shrinking till I'm not here at all

Just me and the molecules floating in the air

won't take up too much room, won't breathe too much air.

I hopped on a south bound with my head in the clouds

thought I'd prove a few wrong maybe make a few proud 

but just like every other time

there's no rhyme or reason, just a reason for a rhyme

I must be out of my mind for crying out loud.

Details | Lyric | |

Young Enough

These words come out of my pen
and I remember when
I was young enough to believe
that the world just might
stop turning
the stars just might
start falling
if I could just capture this feeling
on this cold, white page.
When I was young enough to believe
that I could make a happy ending
to this tale
if I wrote about it
the right number of times
that everyone was interested in
a young girl's
heartsick rhymes
when I was young enough to believe
that magic really existed
and that life was more than some
sick rat's maze
without any cheese at the end.
These words come out of my pen
and I try to comprehend
just how I got this grown-up
how I ever got to meet my pals
cynicism and jaded laughter.
For that young girl of hardly more
than one year's worth
of long ago
doesn't live here anymore
I've lost those bright-colored gel pens
she used to write those
hopeful dreamings
she'll make an appearance with
sunscreen and hot dogs
but more often than not
I can remember when
and I can try to comprehend
but these words that come out of my pen
aren't even a residual echo of
when I was young enough to believe
that my words really mattered.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Great Existence

Moving up over through 
All I've known is felt through the end 
Never a beginning always ending
Falter as I may, myself I hold - alone in company 
Tress in to limestone pillars of my great hall 
Great as the Norse and proud as well
Threads of time woven with clumsy hands led by blind eyes 
Thus is the expanse of the web of life The Great Existence 
Not where but it's the being that is. Is what I am and 
What we are

Details | Free verse | |

Not Blank

This page is not blank
Not just empty lines.
I fill it with what
I'm afraid to speak.
What I fear the most
Crawls through these pages
Not caring at all 
that it scratches
this clean white paper.
If I were to leave it 
inside myself instead...


Not that.

So into this maze of white lined pages
It must be let out
To rove and to roam
Free to be itself
or rather

Details | Rhyme | |


The pleasure to speak is my lost privilege,
And now insanity dwells on a page,
However, it's changing the color in days,
Revealing the truth my white pencil portrays.

But I'm getting sick of the poetess' fate,
I only enliven the worlds your create,
Denying the myths you don't want to believe,
Or perpetuate every side of my grief.

Today it's triangular, soon to be square,
Or even linear, in case you are there,
You skillfully play with my changeable mood,
I'd steal such a talent from you if I could.

I paint the reality, live in a dream,
Duality kills me, I just want to scream,
I'll find the salvation when holding you close
I'll speak of my feelings and keep them in prose.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |



Details | I do not know? | |

"Existence, to the most abstruse level..."

Is it just me, or did I really approach this the wrong way,

I could just forget about it, but it lingers in my mind,

I never thought I would feel this badly,

As if life isn't enough of a burden anyway,

Don't pity me, don't offer your condolences,

That only makes me feel even more horrid,

Breath, heart, sight,

All essential things,

Yet cause you so much misery and woe,

Hitherto, I have not a single regret,

Because life is kind, in its own perplexed sort of way,

And that is what gets me through the day...

Details | I do not know? | |

horrible Dream

Deep down in my soul,
Im taken by fright,
Too scared to be here,
but Im just too polite.

I woke in a horrible dream,
It made me toss and turn,
I woke to scared to be seen,
It's a shame, I feel like Im burned

True love or true lust,
paranoia too,
I thought that I could trust,
You and only you.

I woke in a horrible dream,
Its was so real
I hope that in this dream
That eventually I will heal.

Details | Senryu | |

Love is for poets

Love is for poets
Bleeding on crystal blue days
Red words of bound pain

Details | Free verse | |

Flesh on the bones

SeasonThe sex skull anybody?
the spine hey
flesh on the bones of sex
the ribs hey
the arms baby
the legs of sex
the sex hands 
the feet hey anybody?

hey The skeleton now baby

hey Where do now these poems
hey the poems of sex bones of metaphors go?

where do these sex poems die?
where is the sex grave baby, anybody?
hey for the skeletal remains winding
of the dead that still linger from beyond, anybody?

The skull baby
hey the spine Now
the ribs now, anybody?
Season the arms
the sex legs
hey Flesh on the bones
the sex hands
the feet baby hey
the sex  fingers winding
the toes hey, anybody

the wicked sex skeleton

sex bones Now winding

where doet these poems without flesh go
where do these poems wander?
where season is their wicked resting place?
how do they ressurrected be?
name skeletal remains
Flesh on the bones winding
chasing a wicked soul
of the life its living
to be born again baby

wicked the bones winding
the hollow Now
wicked shallow
Now pitiful baby
today bones winding
wicked masquerading
as bones of metaphor
today of a poem winding

Details | I do not know? | |

Black Christmas

I knew that there wasn't a Santa
No rendeer with antlers
Just me and my parents.
I wished for that and this but no answer
came when I asked them constant for gifts.
Twas obvious my mom and him
Had problems solving this akward
issue caught up with bills every December
Christmas tree empty we cried
Just egg nog and cake for dinner
I hater winter.
So cold and -
no cocoa on the stove and -
Mother crying cause her kids have no toys to hold and -
Right now I'm the only one sad because
my mother is 8 months pregnant -
my little brother isn't here yet -
Pain runs down my chimmeny I can hear it
Black Christmas

Details | I do not know? | |

Origin Of Tears

Tears of a bitter past,
And a hopeless tomorrow,
All for joys that never last,
And a memory drowned by sorrow.

Tears of a forgotten son,
For the parents he's never known.
Afraid of what he hasn't done,
And of living all alone.

Tears of the mother
Who was left to die,
And the pain from another
Who never said goodbye.

Tears for a happy end,
That we all hope is there,
For a broken heart to never mend,
And the pain you cannot bare.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

You Can't Take It

My poetry can be the best in this whole world,
It can rhyme, it can shine,
So young yet I can write so well,
But look at you,
What’s to be seen,
Is that you need to come clean,
Because my poetry seems to not be good enough,
Because of what I write,
The anger hate and frustration,
You say it’s good but then you walk away,
It’s the best you’ve ever read,
But you don’t say,
Because you can’t handle the truth,
These words are too much,
Because people won’t lies,
They won’t to know life’s great,
When I’d rather die and be eaten alive,
And burn in hell scorching in flames,
Then live another moment of life,
But you can’t take it,
You want lies to make life better,
To know that “god” has done something right before,
I thought poems were supposed to be your feeling on paper,
Until life took a turn for the worst,
And you had to lie too yourself to survive,
So you can’t read my poems,
You want stuff that is happy,
If you do look for somebody with a happy life and terrible poems,
Instead of a broken girl with angry, sad good poems.

Details | I do not know? | |

Sticks And Stones

Oh words how you betray me,
What hateful things you say,
was there call to be so blunt?
Was their not another way?
How softly you fell from there lips
But with a deadly aim,
Oh words how we distort you
To heighten others Pain,
Oh words how you do penetrate,
how cruel and how unfair
to find your way into my heart
and create a Poison there,
You should never have said that!
you cant take it back,
The nouns and vowels still ringing in my ear,
You should never have said that!
You have made yourself to me 
Oh words how we  mistreat you
To fill you with such spite
To throw you like missiles
To spit you out in fight
You should never have said that!
I should never have heard
If you've nothing kind to say
not another word.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


I am the tiger whose eyes are inflamed with anger
I am that blackest of black that is empty but full of our shadows
I am the flood that washes you away with my waves
I am the wonderer that wonders why you
I am a freight train whose sounds, drowns all the sounds you make
I am not listening although I'm in front of you

Details | I do not know? | |

What's from beneath

Unable to succeed in my dreams
A yearning of what I need to let go
Is impatiently dying to be freed
and spread it's wings
I feel like there is someone else inside of me
scratching it's way out-while I bleed
spreading rapidly-like a deathwish disease
But I always make sure I keep my dark past
And my mistakes buried deep
Aching,ever slowly breaking
And piece by piece taking
All of the nothing left I say is a lot
Of everything I don't really have
In denial-I believe
I'm afraid of waking up tomorrow
Drowning in my deep blue sea of sorrows
Will somebody please get me awake?
'Cause, I don't go to sleep to dream any longer 

Details | Free verse | |

Watertown Minnesota

The Cafe lights glow with the 
resisting urge to dim
It's not long before the darkness consumes
this little town I find myself in tonight
Pouring rain, pounding thunder make it hard 
to keep my smokes alive
Shackled beneath a gas station overlay
I count the money in my pocket
Forty, maybe fifty bucks including change
I find an empty car close to the nearest liquor store
jack up the handle and bundle up for the night
The contents inside include a half eaten blueberry muffin
cold coffee, and a dated CD 
I hate blueberries
I pull out what juice is left of my tin stash 
pour it into the nearly empty Holiday cup
To my surprise, the mixture ain't half bad
I slip away with the sound of beating rain
For my self destruction leads to another man's creation
I fall asleep

Details | I do not know? | |

Thanks For Pretending

Thank you for pretending
Like I meant something to you.

Thank you for pretending
Acting like I was needed too.

Thank you for pretending
While you were never there.

Thank you for pretending
Like you could ever really care.

Thank you for pretending
Because I felt like I could fly.

Thanks,but I'm not pretending
I love you,and it's not a lie.

Details | Senryu | |

Mouth Corner Escapees

Glass fingers and toes
stepped on and broken by words
gone anvil in haste.

Details | I do not know? | |

The brush that doesn't paint (2005)

It’s in my head but my head won’t paint
The brush breaks and the colour is too faint
There’s a missing screw
Faulty parts where confidence won’t glue
When will my mind act rather than think?
When will my words be longer than a blink?
Its so easy to write
But when I go to talk my lips are tight

Details | Free verse | |

I want to go home

I sign, and from the moment when my ink -
naive and plain - lays down its life, I cry.

Microwaved air brushes against anxiety
plays with our concentration, dances with sweat.

Our eyes: giant pendulums patrol inside this brimming bucket, guarding the lies.

Children, ragged and seemingly archaic, graze
in herds along this expanse. This thirsty sight

calls for aid. Sand slips sensually
into every cranny. I can taste the insanity.

Falling like trees they multiply, lining up
nought after nought with the lick of my trigger.

Featureless faces lay gaunt; their cheekbones defiant and dark reach out for 

Blood-curdling screams scratch scathingly
throughout my body, grating on my bones.

I am lost. We are the foreigners.

I want to go home.

Details | I do not know? | |

Strange Merchant

I'm a strange potion merchant;
my concoctions are a mystery to, even, myself;
when asked what I've to offer, I say,
"I don't know? Throw 'em on any shelf."
Of course, that's never good enough,
not in these times of absolute clarification
the questions become more insistant,
the mass-market requires classification;
"Are your elixirs directed at lost love or sadness?
Or something more esoteric, like on writing and words?"
I pay distracted attention, then shrug, thinking,
"Hell, this is all just for the birds."
Satisfied, concern then turns to the receipt,
formal acknowledgment by means of legal text;
but, by then, my concentration's already given over
to new potions I've in mind to submit next.

Details | Free verse | |


Does it bother you to be alone?
Only when I sleep.
Your dreams are nightmares of death.
But I can't help it.
Why do I suffer more than most?
Nobody knows,nobody cares.
But is it wrong to wish they did?
Was I destined to suffer?
It makes me want to be alone.
So you dont cause others the pain you know?
You are loved.
I know I just can't feel it.
The more I love the more I feel alone.
I don't think I belong here.
Death can ease your pain.
I want to live.
But if you do...
You will hurt them.
I just want to know why.
Why what?
Why do I suffer?
Why are they glad to see me suffer?
Do they hate me that much?
I know I'm not perfect,
I just want to feel,
To feel like I matter,
Like I'm loved,
Like I'm not alone.
Iam hated.
You deserve it.
What you can do with words...
What can I do with words?
Write your feelings down.
Even if someone cared
They couldn't help me.
Why can't someone care about me like I care about them?
Your a psycho.
I know.
Your heart is black.
I know.
Then how can you love anything?
But I do.
Doesn't that mean anything?
Not to them.

Details | Free verse | |

Hairline Cracks

When I am so weary
of this world
         speaks through my
when desert summer
     sun cannot
             this uninvited temperament    
and fear brushes
     my cheek on
         my way out
             the door,
I find
to be 
that crack 
     weathered bark

Details | Free verse | |

April Fools

The warming
muzzle of sun
burrows into
budding souls
till wind changes--
turns its back,
broods, then touches
us cold
as temperatures
and yes,
this is
the cruelest
month, the
naked temptress
of sateen summer.

Details | ABC | |

Lost In Sorrow

Lost In Sorrow
Drowing in black blood
searching for something 
but can not find

Lost In Sorrow
Drowing in black blood 
touching burning acid
burning thru skin and born

Lost In Sorrow

Details | Free verse | |

African Rulers

i'm being punished for asking questions
they tell me my country is a free country
where is all the freedom
or is it only for the highly governmental officials?
african people are in need of the people who can lead
all i see around is rulers
and none of them is skinny like me
what's my music about if i cannot speak the truth
from the heart
they want to have consent with what i rap about
or i'll be pushed out of the business
i thought independence meant power to the people
and not to the few greedy leaders

Details | I do not know? | |

Sound In Your Mind

The sound in your mind
The word on a page
The common dream
Fading with age

Living just enough
Seeking inclusion
Searching for realism
Realizing the illusion

Striving for legitimacy
Marking your word
Starving for intimacy
Wanting to be heard

Everything's better
When we pretend
That we're dead

Someone please stop
All this madness
Swirling inside my head

Details | Rhyme | |

Have To Stop

I’m at the bottom,
I can’t reach top,
I had to stop,
These words encircling my head,
I’m feeling dead,
But I dread,
That I’m alive,
At the bottom of it all,
I hide,
I have to stop,
I can’t go any further,
I’m useless,
Nobody cares,
Nobody shares,
Any hope or inspiration with me,
How can I be,
A great person,
A great poet,
Without anything to write,
What will I write,
A good poet,
With a bad inspiration,
What will I do,
I’m at the end of my rope,
But at the bottom of the heap,
I’m getting crushed beneath it all,
The doubting is driving me up the wall,
I can’t take it,
I’m going to fall,
I’m going to fail,
I have to stop,
I can’t reach the top.

Details | Free verse | |

Red Folder

Paper is tucked
beneath your pockets.
One year old, it holds
silent secrets.
Secrets of how 
she unraveled like
a ball of twine.

Some days she peeks,
sees the name and instantly
knows she’s not ready.

Words can heal,
on the right day,
at a precise moment.

Why was it red?
She can’t remember--
there were yellows maybe,
but red seemed more…

Some times the red is 
a fear of the past,
but sometimes, it’s
just a connection
to the bloody scars of
a mistake.

Maybe tomorrow,
I can share your secrets.

Details | Romanticism | |

Written words

Thought it might help me tonight
If I at here and just write
About how my life I've since lost sight
Don't know what to do anymore
Nothing seems right
Losing any and all strength here
I have no more might
Words can sometimes help heal
The wounds that had cut so deep
But these words aren't helping me here tonight
I feel like I must weep
But do you think tears coming down from my eyes that seep
Will be what helps me here
No it just causes more sadness
And more fear
I've successed at failing
And have failed at being a success
My life before wasn't my own to lead
Now my heart is lieing in wait
It's already began to bleed
For my heart will never be freed
For the love I have for someone
To which I don't know if he feels the same
He's the one I let get away
And now I live with that shame
You know who you are so I don't have to say your name
No the writing of these words tonight
Still didn't make anything I've done right
They didn't give me peace
They didn't let my mind by forever quiet
All that could only come from time spent with you
Funny what a few simply spoken words from you could do
For me
Before why couldn't we see
What we had been searching for all along
In everyone we met
We had right here in us
And we let time pass by like a phantom jet
God I miss you
Somewhere inside me it's saying
You are missing me to
I'm scared
Never had feelings like this before
Taken a hold of my heart, of my soul
This time we need not shut the door
Let our hearts be free and soar
Then these written words I would need no more

Details | Blank verse | |

You Will Never Die

You will not die,
you will
not go away.
You sat the poison on
the table,
I saw it 
with wet eyes, damp
cheeks. I wish 
I could breath lavender
air, so that
life would leave me alone
I wish that you 
would burn out.
Go away my mental 
my black memories.
My broken rainbow, lost 
in the fog
can see you in
the distance. 
Never will you go away
scars never heal.

Details | Free verse | |

A Precious Jewel Is Missing

Somehow, a Ruby
Disappeared from the Royal Treasury,
The King and Queen heart-broken,
Royalty is rich, you think,
But that was no little token,
They prized that jewel
Above their diamonds,
All other Royal possessions,
The castle walls can crumble now,
That theft now their obsessions

So if the Ruby is returned,
All will sing with joy,
That goes for the KIng and Queen,
Down too the smallest girl and boy.

Details | I do not know? | |


All of us have feelings all of us have love but all of us build a buffer in-between 
the real world and the occurrences’ the bad news and the disturbances and the 
wars. It is not the ostrich neck bowed down with the head inside the egg hole it is 
not the hair the dog tosses up on back of all the issues. It could be the reason 
we can live when it seems all hope is lost it is the reason a man keeps hoping 
that his lost love will come home.
We simply make a buffer a buffer zone if you will of many different feelings and 
many different ills. The news is very bad today but supper was so nice the 
cheese and bagels and the onions made me feel like eye ate twice but several 
people died in ASIA and there eye have some friends and when eye read it eye 
let it hit my buffer so eye can live. When the story becomes the MONOLITH of 
headlines and even videos then the BUFFER will absorb the thing and keep me 
from the suffer of a world in turmoil and my supper sets inside my stomach 
becoming something else a different form of matter to be discarded and avoided 
by the others of my kind. The buffer is my ZONE the buffer helps me on the long 
walk home it does not meant that eye do not care or even love it is just the 
BUFFER sets in place to keep mye heart.
The prayers and tears pass through the buffer zone and yet eye rise for one more 
day a little jaded a little green around my eyes and search for one more answer 
at life in the buffer zone.

Details | Sonnet | |


It wasn’t much to look upon
A page of simple words
Blown along to twist anon
A rage of thoughts un heard
Caught at last on leafless twigs
To tear and flex with ease
A shout of torn and tortured truths
Flapping in the breeze
Bitter litter caught by
Naked  Winter trees
To cause
A token memory of 
Composed discarded feelings 

Details | Quatrain | |


Let your soul stain the paper
Like your blood stains the floor
Smearing squalls of liquidated life
On the palms of your scribbled war

Squeeze your heartache with your hand
Like a sermon spills a pariah’s plight
Cleansing the sins of your visceral voice
With the tears from which you write

Strain the sediment of your strife
Like starvation scavenges a gutted shore
Siphoning the spoils of weeping wounds
Dripping from the lines of your lore

Details | Blank verse | |

...collaboration of inspiration-Stevie Nicks dedication to the red rose grows the passion in the Enchanted Gate and Garden there 
Whenever you call me friend and I believe I've come to understand that I'm the 
Kind of woman with for whom you don't blame for having a Wild heart but you 
know that you can always Talk to me you can set your secrets free you have given 
me your Leather and you have taken from me my Lace I am stronger than you 
know it all comes down to you lighting strikes maybe once maybe twice and you  
see your Gyspy but  you have to Stop draggin' my heart around because baby you 
could never look me in the eye and say you didn't love me you buckled with the 
weight of the words and looking at Rhiannon who is like a cat in the dark and 
then she is the darkness and knowing that even in Dreams when the rain 
washes you clean Sometimes it's a witch and no matter what they say Love's a 
hard game to play you may need to Stand back in the middle of my room my 
Bella Donna riding high a top her pony cause not everyone has Crystal visions 
nor will everyone with their capes pulled around them tight cry for the Nightbird 
some will see their refection in the snow covered hills until the Landslide brings 
them down and even the Gold dust woman with her heartless challenge will pick 
her path and for her we pray although on the Edge of seventeen things may Rock 
a little and sadly enough Some will become strangers you will always have My 
heart I never again want to Fall from grace even if time cast a spell on you never 
will you forget me and in years past I tried to love you before but you would not let 
me I am ready now to be your Silver spring blue green colors flashing and yes 
I'm Strong enough remember I'm your Beauty and you are my Beast poet priest of 
nothing Has anyone ever written anything for you in all your darkest hours did you 
ever hear me sing listen to me now I sing for the things money can't buy me and 
long After the glitter fades I will still be here you said If anyone falls in love it will 
be done to us most of all I have to know when I can see you again because I 
can't wait yes I know you though we've been out of touch...

...this is a collaboration of written words inspired by
Stevie Nicks...

Details | Couplet | |

My Own Fixation

It is too easy to master the sadness, of my poetry
Than all the combinations, of winning the lottery

I’ll just think I’m sad, sadness becomes my poetry
I’m already mad and sad; still, I don’t win a lottery

That I decided to have my fixation, on a sad poetry
Than harvesting great sadness, of losing the lottery

There is, at least, one big profit of writing sad poetry
Freeing the pain that you gained, perhaps, in a lottery

So come hand in hand, let us build a world, of poetry
Rather than investing your hope, of winning a lottery

Details | Rhyme | |

Text Me A Poem (Mixed Rhyme)

It’s an old saying: no news, good news
I want you to know I love your muse
But, I do have little time to use
To peruse… and to give you my views
This is not alibi or excuse

Oh, yes dear, you are my lovely muse
Yesterday, today and tomorrow
To the whole world, I am proud to show
How happy I am that you’re my muse

Thou, I wake-up when you sleep
I read and write when you stop
Still, we are on the same map
We’re bind by love, not by clip

We are being united as one…
Many voices, different races, lots of fun
One passion, one aim, let the pen flow
For our beloved family to grow and glow

You will not see me everyday
Work causes me to stay away
I beg with a contrite heart
O, Almighty Father in heaven
Let me share the gifts you’ve given
Help me, not to fall apart

For I, under the eye of the General
Can’t do nothing, but feel like I’m on trial
When and if his, not in a bi-lateral

Poetry is uplifting…
That’s why I won’t stop writing

Just like you I want to be
A giver is all I see

Yes, clouds have silver lining
For life has its true meaning

Still, I am lonely, for I’ve only my phone

Can you text me a poem, to ease my pain? 

Details | Rhyme | |

They Are Wrong

Men cannot be poets,
Or so it seems in life,
The people that should know it,
Their words do strife.

Cuts you to the bone,
When you read what they have said,
Will not leave you alone,
Run cover your head.

Could not believe it this morning,
When I read these words so grave,
Felt I took a beating,
As if I were a slave.

But is ok for I am strong,
I will try much harder,
To prove,
That they are wrong.

Details | Free verse | |

do you feel for anything other than yourself

I've heard that poetry won't get us very far

But what do they know?

Where a few  of my words blot a napkin

 is my

One and only refuge

So in essence

It helps to keep my sanity 

 this heartless world
My broadened perspective

Where my eyes are held open

can never be completly shut

I write

What I see

I've heard that my words will be forgotten 

When I am dead and gone

I will be dead and gone

But no one can touch this moment; the freeing of my happy soul

It is mine alone, regardless of if i am made of cartillage 

or just bone

I've heard that as a woman I am overly emotional

But what do they know?


I feel every pulse of life around me

and the drip drop of of  of the spring rain

I hear the sound of sobbing of people a thousand miles away

I feel the bloodshed

I smell the smoke

I see the heart break

By that you mean I can feel...
what do you feel

By your silence I can tell that you cannot
because you forgot

 You think that expression of any sort other than patriotism

is a waste of time? 

keep your eyes on the prize 

a.k.a.  work ethic

and you will get ahead
Numb your heart
To the real world

You call this the real world?
where the realness is hidden by the dumbing down of society

For you see

Your senses are dulled

When you no longer can understand 

the artist

and her poetry


not poetry

but your own sense of empathy

desire, fear, laughter, love, hatred, confusion, 

blatent disregard

You do much to spit in the face of our creator

feel it all

or all will be lost

our sense of justice, and empathy

should be kept at all costs 

Details | Couplet | |

Soup's ON

AH the faceless poet 
stirring up our meal
sharing all with strangers
telling how you feel
as we taste your potion 
as we drink your pain
how we wish that we could
mix a remedy again
a spoon full of sugar
to sweeten up the taste
to think that there could
be a smile
tho we can't see your face
  yet we are kindred spirits
and so we really care
we 're game to bite off anything
we'll even chew despair

Details | I do not know? | |


(Dedicated to Ken Curtis who died April 28, 1991.)

When he starred in Gunsmoke, he truly blessed us.
I'm talking about Ken Curtis who starred as Festus.
He was dirty because he never bathed.
He irritated Doc Adams and he never shaved.
Talent was something that he never lacked.
When people watched Gunsmoke, they loved to see him act.

Details | Free verse | |


I continue to live for reasons other than my own.
There are times I cry for all the pain of the world.
These writings of words, Poetry, can often mend my broken spirit and renew my 
twisted thoughts.
Regretfully, my same words can tear open and cause injury to those whom read 
My sorrows are truly of my own and caused by my own.
Please feel no blame and take no pity.
Only I am responsible for the actions or lack of actions in which I translate into 
the very words that help me to heal myself: Poetry.

Details | I do not know? | |

Close Calls

So many close calls
Wishing I was dead right now
So many close calls
I gotta live for God right now
So many close calls
That could've ended my life right now
So many close calls
I gotta be a soulja right now
So many close calls
Thank God I'm alive right now
It could've ended within a few seconds
Gettin' caught up in the streets
Could leave you hangin' in the streets
Writing poetry to keep my mind cleared up
Thinking so many thoughts in my head
Wonder if it'll ever fall off
So many close calls
People think if the fear of dying will ever cross my mind
I say no and keep reaching to the Lord
Close calls could leave you speechless within a heart attack
Thinking of the kids growing with no role models
What about us?
We gotta fight and live for the truth now

Details | Romanticism | |


I woke up in the middle of the night, I 

thought I was just dreaming found out that

my girl left me alone now I'm on my own and

now I'm going crazy, because I'm all alone,

I didn't think you would be gone this long,

I'm sorry I done you wrong baby, please 

come back home, baby I'm so lonely, I have

nobody, baby I'm so lonely I have nobody to

make me smile like the way you do, baby I'm

sorry for what I put you through, I just

want you back in my life, without you I

don't know if I could live this long, baby

I'm so gone, I still can't believe you

would be gone this long, I just wanna tell

you I'm on my own and alone.

Details | Verse | |

What I Have To Say

I cry my tears
But they are mistaken

For rain

I write my words
But they are mistaken

For outlets

They may be outlets
But you are mistaken

Here's why:

I do not write
To vent to space

The emptiness of the world
As I hear nothing but air

I cry to be heard
Though no one will listen

I give a shoulder
When someone tells me their story

But no one asks for mine

I am shrugged off after I have listened

But what about you?
When have you listened?

Given me advice I have never gotten before?
When have I received even a hint

Of thanks?

What am I, but the words I type on a keyboard
To be read by the public, but never really understood

Who am I, but a person behind
Yet another username

Am I to be cast out of mind
As easily as a Saturday morning cartoon?

Will no one listen
When I have problems of my own?

I will never tire of helping those I care about
Through their pains, and helping them succeed

But I would also like
To be heard in return

To be helped as I have helped

To be understood as I have understood

To be more than a shoulder to rest on
When my Earthly cares weigh down on me

I want to be more
Than a figure in the crowd

More than a writer
With no one to read my words

I want to be noticed
Heard for what I have to say

Details | Lyric | |

Depressing Blessing

It’s a depressing blessing
I am finally able to write
sure, I’m losing the fight with unhappiness
but a momentary triumph is mine
as I pour out what I’m feeling
as I’m revealing what is on my mind
if only the victory weren’t so brief
I’d never need to write again
I’d never need to be loved
I’d never need to feel accepted
I’d never have to face rejection
I’d never have to notice my imperfections
I’d never be unhappy again

Details | I do not know? | |


I am sitting at my desk, 
where are you where have you gone, 
are you coming back? 
words my sweet words, 
they make me strong, 
Tara’s theme again in my head,
 how can I sing my song?

Oh hello , why is your head held low, 
it need not be you know,
 I am alright, 
forgot my meds last night, 
and who is this your doggie Fred, 
strange you two are? 
you know you are not allowed in here,
 the sign says no horses and no dogs allowed.
 I know I know but you must go, 
not to worry about me.
 I have my words my words set me free.
In them I can say what I want, 
what I am feeling too.
 I know she keeps reminding me, 
”take your meds and the others before bed, too”

But taking them I lose my words,
 then you are gone. 
And I am left all alone.


Details | I do not know? | |

Avenging Treachery

 Taking a walk, easy for some,
But not for me, I couldn’t do it
Thinking of the words,
Why did I leave them, 
I am consumed.
There is no hope for me. 
The constant haunting,
Nagging, pushing out of turn
I have to have them 
They are all I have left.
Oh my sweet wonderful love
Of my life,
Where are you, take me away from here,

Thy blazing blade, tearing, cutting,
Gnawing, at consequences, of my life. 
The torment so majestic, so horrid,
Overwhelming tyranny of my soul.
Vermin waiting for burdens to unfold, 
Their appetites enveloping 
Waiting for their nourishment,
Quell them I know not how.
Solitary doom upon me.

My words surround me now, 
I am protected at last. 
Nothing can break down the barriers,
That protect me.
Wrought words, 
A pleasant feeling of weariness abounds me.
I can sleep now, 
I have made it through another night.


Details | I do not know? | |

So I Bleed

Desperate needs of remedies
For frustration and greed
Because these are the abstract entities
That won’t let me succeed.
So I bleed.
And I plead for help
From other and myself
But it’s like I am some disease
Cus I make others move somewhere else
So I bleed.
And I suffer with out a buffer
As my life gets tougher
You think you’ve had tough times
Well my time has been rougher…and it’s still ticking.
So I bleed. 
While agonizing in pain
This arduous strain drives me insane
And I feel the depletion of my life
Homeostasis I can no longer maintain.
So I bleed.
And as I bleed
I continue to bleed
As my extremities go numb
I still don’t have what I need.
So I bleed.
Dripping blood
Because of a wounded love
I guess my new home now
Would be the place up above.
So I bleed.
And I will continue to bleed
Until one takes heed
To whatever I need…I will bleed

Details | Free verse | |

The Last Autumn Poem

        apple cider season,
              cool autumn whiskey,
                    burning leaves.

No one needs another autumn poem.

      We grow gaudy phrases
                  like pumpkins,
hollow out foreheads,
throw away seeds.

Always paring, cutting
      with awkward thumbs,
seeing autumn
      as a pewter stallion
and winter
      wildly undone.

Details | Lyric | |

The Blank Page

On this blank page where I 
Type down an empty life, 

Thoughts juggle, in and out, 
To and fro, again and 

Again, trying to look 
For ways to muse, but it 

Will be better when there’s 
A paradigm, but there’s

None to be found. Perhaps, 
I just can’t figure it.

Ahh, it will be best that 
...I don’t find it at all.

Or maybe, this blank page 
Is too kind, to me, ‘cos...

Who surely knows what evil I’ll unwittingly expose? 

Details | Free verse | |


I'm sorry i'm not perfect,
too bad my life is sad. 
Try to hear me out, 
before you all get mad.
Don't laugh in my face, 
it was only an opinion.
I try to express myself,
but you always shut me down.
How can I be who I am,
if you won't accept me now?
Each day I live a lie,
just to see you smile.
You always push me around,
like i'm not worth this sh--.
I guess you don't understand,
I was born who I am.
You look at me crazy,
whenever I pass you by.
How am I so different from you?
I just want to know why...

My name is always in your mouths,
but you have no reason why.
Talk about someone else,
a person that lives to lie.
So now you want to be my friend,
but didn't you tell her something else?
I'm not your backup toy,
so don't treat me like some boy.
I am NOT a dog,
you get to throw around.
I am a human with feelings too.
So what if I cry at times,
you act as if you never do.

Details | Free verse | |

Negativity's Spool

This spool of negativity
unraveled, sparked and metal lime
pierces eardrums in their skin
and wraps conundrums 'round the brain
It usurps all the confidence
which should be stored in violet bowls
to sip when low ignition strikes
and twines the weary, dragging souls
It threads the skin of counterparts
to skin cells loving anger
and twists it's turns through open mouths
to happiness endanger
This spool of negativity
spat and rolled by rotten tongues
will stretch and tear at the slightest tug
like paper silk gone soaked in rum
It dusts disintegration
and sleeps in rusty coils
and snakes through poison mushrooms
in the darkest forest soils
It winds a whisper metal lick
into the hearts of mighty men
constricting blood of pumping life
until they reach to sorrow's end
with thoughts too steep and oiled black
to negatively condescend...

Details | Lyric | |


A whispered poem, like 
A gentle touch of love can put a spirit 
In sorrow to joy;
It can deliver the restless mind to tranquility;
It can mend and heal a broken heart;
Rhyme or un-rhyme surely flows,
Strengthening the weak,
To live life and hope for the best.

A passing wind ripples on palm trees,
Can make a worried lover, 
Sitting on a metal bench beneath it, 
To wait a little longer for 
Her confused fiancé;
It can bring her peace, a time to reflect her love;
It can make her soul calm, for awhile
Believing he’ll come ere the orb fades.

But you, my dear friend, like
A whispered poem can uplift my spirits,
Just by the touch of your hand;
You, like the passing wind,
Can caress my faith;
You can make relentless me, alive;
Yet, you chose not to be…
Instead, you’ve stolen my love.


Details | Free verse | |

My Poetry

without you, my poetry is
dead, leaving a crack of sadness;

and for this I just may stop,
‘cos the spirits are untreatable;

i hurt my mind…
and shattered my sanity;

better if we have not met, you thought;
i agreed, for you delved too much at the vanity;

and thru the pieces that I may have 
or, may have not given;

and thru the songs that I may have 
or, may have not written;

and I think, maybe I should reconsider 
picking-up the thread of my life, for good grace is 

my heart lasting desire; to start again 
as if it were sunrise, perhaps, I find 

a sweet butterfly, however this may seem 
hope is keeping me alive; unto you
eternal peace and joy, I wish
even thru my deepest sorrow.  

Details | Rhyme | |

We Were Once

We were destined by our hearts
As our passion brought us alive
Nourished on words we consumed
Where, on our writing we thrived
We lived for those many moments
Though we dreamed and we prayed
We so often looked to the future
On our many promises made

Yet, our lives, they were not ours
We often struggled to find self
And amidst the constant struggle
Through each other, we found wealth
Yet, as rich as we were permitted
It was all destined to then fade
For we existed in the shadows
In a life to have been forbade

Details | Romanticism | |

Lost and found

Never would've thought in my younger years
I would be here now with all these damn tears
Tears that seem to continually fall like a hard rain
Why does love cause anyone to be in such lonely pain
In my childhood dreams I believed I'd find love with no strings and no games
Thought someone would love me just the same
I foreseen my life being pure bliss
I never foreseen my life as this
how was I to know in my past
That up to now I would never find love to last
Wanted to be a wife and mother and do my part
Instead I find myself alone trying to make yet another new start
Isn't funny how love can grab on to your soul
Make you lose yourself and not quite have control
Love can take hold of your heart
And if you don't watch out sometimes it can tear you apart
Not saying it happens every time or to everyone
But sadly it really does happen to some
Be careful remember lead with not your heart but your mind
You life as you know it is not always so kind
Don't keep turning a blind eye
If he's leaving you all the time
With nothing to do but have tears to cry
Get to really know and understand him from the inside
Telling him how I feel I have began
I have a long way to go 
And more to say
But for me words only come easy when writing them on this page
I need to for surely tell him and would pay all it cost
Because not telling him everything will continue to leave me feeling lost
I keep right on hoping as I look around
That one day soon I will be again found

Details | Free verse | |

Good morning Copout

I wake up
youy said
and you told me
and encouraged me
not to smoke
because it was killing me
does it matter?
If im a liar?
i dont remember
they were always there

the cars always sped
and i never heard 
the alarms
when i was living
for the dead
trying and crying
going and rolling
your not alone

You know me
soo well
i sing 
all alone
I walk and talk like a rebel
it goes
on and on
and on and on
i dont know how to drive
into a wall of smoke
and burning desire

But into your arms
of trust where you know me
i go forward to scream it
out and im om my own
living the strange wave

Im here
Im Here 

Am I Alone?
Can anyone hear me?
do you see me?
can you smell
do you still 

where does this story go....
the horn goes....
you wake up!
you scream awake
have a shower,
drink some coffee
say a little [rayer....

and admit defeat

Details | Lyric | |

I'm Sorry

I’m sorry, my words didn’t come out right
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your night
My mind is panicked
My heart is frantically beating
I just have this fear that soon you’ll be leaving me
I need to learn to choose my words with caution
because my tones never turn out 
the way they’re meant to sound
All of what I said,
was just me kidding around
I didn’t want you to worry
and I’m grateful that you care
Just accept my most sincere apology
and believe me when I say I’m sorry

Details | Free verse | |


Her thought fall from her mind
They glide onto the paper 
They seem like some one else's
This sadness could never be hers
No one believes this is how she feels
Why would they think that
She never acted sad 
She never told them 
No one ever thought to ask her about her life
All they saw was a freak
They didn’t see the pain inside her
Why should they look for her pain
She was just another freaky person
She didn’t fit in
She would not have been happy as one of them
She was fine being a freak
She would not change to be popular
She stood up for what she believed
She would not back down in a debate
She never wanted to be them

Details | I do not know? | |

Writer's Block

Writer's block
Has finally struck
I watch the clock
As the hands fly

No ideas
Nothing in my brain
So this is what happens
When I don’t feel insane

My one joy
Has left for now

I hope I’m merely toying with myself
Because oh how sad I will be
If I permanently place
My writing on the shelf

Details | Free verse | |


With a few words you can make someone suffer,
Confuse them and blind them
With a few words
You can weave a web of lies.

Or you can give them joy, 
Blind happiness
But in an instant you can take it away
Gone, for almost forever

No happiness,

What happens when word hurt you,
When words of pain are uttered to you?
Burning at you,
Hurting you

Then you begin to feel empty,
Hollow inside, full of nothing
Even when you have joyus things
There is no more happiness.

No matter
You still feel nothing
Not happy nor sad.
Just nothing, empty.

Next time,
Before speaking,
Are your words Prudent?

Details | I do not know? | |


You are so backwards.
Instead of being with me, you stay far away.
Instead of calling me, you call someone else.
You are so backwards.
Instead of walking towards me, you walk away.
Instead of loving me, you wanna be a man.
You are so backwards.
Instead of getting on your knees, you stand up.
Instead of holding me, you hold yourself.
Instead of kissing me, you kiss the air.
You are so backwards.
Why can't you move forward?
Why can't you take one step-up?
Instead of falling back.
You are so Backwards.

Details | Lyric | |

Sad Poem

I thought 
I‘ve written a good poem

But reading the final verse
I have written a sad life, my life

Details | Free verse | |

Just the Words

this pain and anguish
anger and despair
make me loose my sleep
not until i smoke some of Bob Marley
it makes me sleep like baby
rests my mind from worrying about the next trap
they are going to set
i spend my days and nights writing poetry
that will soon turn into music
and from music to dough
just the words man