“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”—Psalm 34:18 New International Version (NIV)
Little sparrow, what troubles thee;
is it the stigma you face?
Little sparrow, what pierces thee;
is it the shame of disgrace?
Is it the brokenness in your heart,
or the sorrows you can't outlive?
Is it the anguish that sets you apart,
or the hurt that holds you captive?
What befalls you
is neither unfelt nor unknown;
God cares and calls you
when you're cast out and all alone.
God will never forsake you
in your time of need;
God will never permit you
to suffer or bleed.
02/19/2014; for "TO HEAL A HEART" Contest
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014
Sharp fangs flashes as he growls
threatening to bring death
the eyes flames in fury
looking for an escape
He once ruled in his kingdom
the predator in a solitary wild
strength was his armor
never feeling sorry for his fights
One day a trap caught the king
in an iron throne, a crown he was given
yet he rejects the admires
for it is not what his heart desires
he longs of his life back
he was a beast, fierce and wild
freedom is his definition of love
one the master will never understand
The death that echoes in every flight
the chase that severs wretched life
the danger of the wild
now he cries his lonely howl in the night
Copyright © Jeinara Odonio | Year Posted 2014
Hello, my name is Pearl Smudges and I am a cat
I live in a beautiful apartment in an old building
With My Girl and until recently Violet Patches
One day My Girl got the cat carrier out
She put Violet Patches inside and left
When she came back the carrier was empty
And she was weeping
I rolled myself up in my blanket for three days
Slowly, sadly we are coming to terms with our loss
The end of grieving is just within reach
April 12, 2015
For the contest, Just Within Reach, sponsor, John Lawless
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
Contemplate and meditate
That the truth
- Shall -
See the light of reality
With-in the realm of possibility:
Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2013
I sit here today, wondering where I have been, was it somewhere I did not belong?
My head hurts, I look like crap, just how many days have I been too gone too long.
I can't recall what day of the week it is or just when I started on this train ride,
Money gone, truck out of gas, my mouth hurts, my tongue has no hide.
Body is tired but still wanting that feeling that comes fast, hard and strong
What all I done, just what do I risk to lose, I've been too gone too long.
This life in the fast lanes was scary, and it took me places I never wanted to go
Left me with heartache and strife and always that feeling that left me so low
Looking around at the mess I am in, it is like the lyrics to a sad slow song
Too late now to turn back, reality moved in and I see I've been too gone too long
The job I used to go to and loved and did not mind all the overtime
My family trips where my kids made sure to spend every last dime.
The special dates with my loved one, in his arms is where I belong
All is lost, I had a major train wreck, I've been too gone too long
The shame of it all is that everyone knew it and tried to get me to see
I thought they were crazy and told them to just leave me be.
My train wreck caused a lot of damage and many people got hurt bad
The "high" gear in my train got stuck and it took the freedom I once had.
Now I sit here all alone, in a room surrounded by bars, doing nothing but time,
You see, I messed up, my judgement off, and I commited a crime.
The ones that were on the train wreck were my family, the ones who saw me doing wrong
Too bad I could not see, I am payiing the price............ I've been too gone, too long.
Copyright © Nikki Bazar | Year Posted 2013
The musical hall was filled with whines;
Of the melancholy melody and spontaneous art.
And the maestro's eyes were moving between the lines
Waiting to reach his favorite part.
I was now on stage!
Blown away by the appealing scene,
It felt like a picture in a story's page:
Neon lights and people's mien.
And among the audience:
I read the expression of the crippled soul,
And that of the afflicted heart.
Recognized that look of having a set goal
And those looks of desire to-from the beginning- start.
I am the broken violin,
Owned by the best musician in town
At me-he always liked to grin
saying that I never let him down.
I long for the touch of his bow on my strings..
But I am growing too frail to compete.
I have lost the ability to- with the melody- spread my wings,
Vapid I became, my taste; bittersweet.
My strings will be amputated soon,
And no healing process can revive my damaged harmony
I will be among the ruins, letting out no tune
So today, i will play my last symphony.
Copyright © Sandy Tadros | Year Posted 2015
Rain seeps into every crack and crevice
chilling to the bone
Winter has arrived with a vengeance
and summer is forever gone.
Ice slicks the asphalt, into a
glittering glistening death trap.
Here begins the slow invasion
of the unrelenting cold.
This grubby little mutt follows one day,
His hair matted, claws overgrown.
You take pity on the poor thing;
Starving and probably ill.
(A miserable pup with big sad eyes)
And leave blankets and scraps out the door
You wonder of his owners forgotten
He’s no street dog- well behaved and gentle
Perhaps abandoned, lost.
But maybe not. He’s ugly, scarred
Hairless in patches- He belongs in a kennel.
You don’t want him- and feel an inexplicable deep hatred
The wag of his tail infuriates and the curve of his snout enrages.
You slam the door.
A glass spills and everything is red.
Merlot on the carpet, scarlet on the bed.
You knock over the roses
Deep crimson of condolence
You want to draw blood, you want to destroy
You crave another’s red bloody torment
Schadenfreude, be damned
His whines pierce-
through the cold air of the night,
and the solid wooden door.
The royal blue E minor: the laments of the abandoned
You can’t help but join in song
As the wretched creature
howls expressivo at the starless sky
a symphony of loss.
Violins screech to his scratching
with trills, mordents and turns.
The descending melodic line fades and echos;
As the merciless tonic pedal of time ticking
The clarinets wails accompaniment;
subdominant, tonic, leading.
And with a plagal cadence, the mutt droops his tail
Morning arrives- painfully slow
The rising sun thaws anguished aubergine
And leave only tender lapis of fingers frostbitten.
They struggle; falls a familiar key
As you reach and bend
Moist; a warmth unexpected and wet
As the mutt licks your hand
tongue curling around a corpse’s digits
nuzzling his cold snout into the back of your knee.
Tongue lolling, tail wagging
The mutt never leaves.
The frost on the tree branches promise
Of how you’ve lived and grown
They shimmer like precious silver
and accent the beauty of home.
The fresh biting air,
with great gasping breaths you shiver.
Here begins a new journey
With your most loyal friend.
Copyright © Salina Cc | Year Posted 2015