At internet dating sites secrets are hidden
On his roller coaster of lies, Pam had ridden
Though she agreed to meet Joe in a public park
The sun had already set; it was growing dark
No families or lovers were strolling around
When Jim came from behind and pushed Pam to the ground
Pam went home and was afraid to tell her parents
In four months there was a change in her appearance
Pam left home and started living on the streets
Turning away from every stranger she’d meet
‘Neath neon lights on a cardboard box she lay
Night after night, visiting soup kitchens by day
In her eighth month she found a home for pregnant teens
As her mom endured the torment of fearful dreams
Time neared and Pam called home crying, “Mom, I’ve done wrong!”
Grateful mom said, “Dear, I’d have been there all along"
Lifting Pam up from the grasp of dire poverty
Her parents welcomed the newborn to their family
If she hadn’t made that call, Pam would not have known
The comfort she’d receive in her parents’ fine home
* Entry for Gwendolen’s “Mom, I’m Pregnant” contest.
According to Douglas J. Besharov with the University of Maryland’s School of Public
Policy, almost half of all families headed by women under age 18 have incomes
below the poverty line. This is almost five times the poverty rate of two-parent
families with children.
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
I was laying on the beach
On a hot August morn
A sudden pain in my gut
I knew that something was wrong
It's Eddie. I felt it so strong
I Picked up my cell and I called
The emotional pain of it all
My body curled up in a ball
I sat up again to be sure,
the solar plexus was sore
Why to I question these signs
I know that there isn't a cure
For the feelings I want to ignore
He never answered the phone
I packed up my stuff and went home
I worried all day and all night
The sunrise brought more than just light
The loud banging began at the door
I peeked through the blinds to be sure
There were cops all over the street
Guns drawn made the picture complete
I opened the door full of fear
Oh my God! Why are they here?
My heart dropped, I wanted to hide
When he said "Sgt. White, homicide."
Is your son home he wanted to know
With his foot in the door I said no
Do you mind if we just have a look
And I backed up after biting the hook
They swarmed through the house
Guns up in the air
Upstairs to his room
They looked everywhere
My solar plexus was right
I'm glad I came home last night
But where did he go? I needed to know
His innocence still in my sight
The officer said have a seat
Let's talk about where he could be
A boy was found dead in the street
A witness put Ed at the scene
Don't worry he said as I pulled my robe tight
Your son was a victim of robbery last night
I know he's afraid to come out in the light
I didn't believe him. But I knew he was right.
My son was afraid and now I knew why
He took someone's life who's mother will cry
He was just seventeen a year younger than Ed
Why do these kids seem to be so misled?
What happened that night is a mom's biggest fear
A child was lost in the drug war I hear
The exchange in the alley of weed for the cash
Was a set up to rob him of all that he had
When the kid put a gun against my son's head
Said 'empty your pockets' or soon you'll be dead
He had no idea that the pocket was packed
With a 38 special protecting the cash
The rest of story is packed in a box
The panic, the fear, the action, the shock
He emptied the gun and ran for his life
While Nicholas bled on the pavement that night
My heart cries to God asking why must I be
The mom of the kid who killed her baby
I cry for her loss as if it were mine
I beg her forgiveness, and I offer her mine.
You don't want to be either one of these moms
Our children at risk, a sign of the times
God please shine Your light on this good Earth today
We're all human beings who've just lost our way.
The pro-Hanoi Vietcong many years ago
In the 1950's Diem's government they'd overthrow
All opposition was crushed killed or jailed
These elected ones to their people they failed
This Buddhist country so religious in belief
Now politically torn apart, impending future grief
In the early 1960's with the CIA in place
Discussing with Vietnam's generals, Diem, assassinated in disgrace
With the Vietcong army, growing from strength to strength
Another communist foothold, going to any lengths
In 1965, with 3500 U.S. Marines in place
By December of that year, 200,000 in many a base
These U.S. Marines, in their defensive mode
Over the coming months, peace would soon erode
With the Tet Offensive upon us, and the "Battle of Hue"
The Americans were now involved, this bloody war now brews
One decision to end this conflict, came in 1969
Nixon sent 18 B-52s, bordering Soviet airspace line
He wanted to show he was capable, to end this bloody war
But as the months and years progressed, the body count would soar
The anti-war movement was gathering strength, also in 1969
But the "Green Beret Affair" started to undermine
A U.S. Army platoon raped and pillaged, the village of My Lai
Where civilians were massacred, and many left to die
In 1970-71, Cambodia incurred wars wrath
Where they and the country Laos, were in the U.S. bombing path
Also in 71, there was the cutting of the Ho Chi Minh trail
But arms and supplies got through, this mission to no avail
Later in the same year, the Anzac's withdrew their soldiers
The U.S. also reduced, many of theirs from Vietnam's borders
In 1973, Nixon declared the suspension of offensive action
The Paris Peace Accords took place, peace with this warring faction
Between the years 73 - 74 under Trà, the Vietcong grew in strength
There was no mass offensive, to lure the Americans to their trench
Gradually they marched to their target, to see their enemies eyes
To their city of Saigon, now over a million humans have died
The average age of the American to die in this bloody war
Was just nineteen years old, never knowing what they were fighting for
So many came home from this horror, leaving themselves behind
Because so many came home different, home with a different mind
Even to this day, many Americans look back and ask
Why their elected Congress, feed them to these tasks
The sad thing about Vietnam, it continues to this present day
Where governments make decisions, asking guns to hear their say
Once again, the powers that must
In rise again in what we trust
An overseas conflict, another war
Just what in the hell are we fighting for
Families are asking, Korea has just passed
Generations again reft, how long will it last
A country in need, to rebuild again
Flags at half mast, in wind and rain strain
Once again into war, sent by the Washington Post
To send back reports to hit home the most
Military observers were the first to be sent in
Another chapter of man entering existing sin
I'm witnessing our ariel power, Lam Son 719
US planners determine their incursion, saying all will be fine
Along the Mekong River, we'll carpet bomb their supply trail
Tons of munitions and napalm, this spread surely cannot fail
Many sorties are being flown, for the wounded and the dead
Whilst Nixon and his cronies, aren't thinking with their heads
The news of losses has reached me, nineteen have been killed
Eleven missing, fifty nine wounded, more American blood spilled
Seven fixed wing aircraft, more sons in action loss
Whilst back at home more protests, fading the dyeing's gloss
To to this job that I do, I was never prepared for this
To witness such bloody scenes, and ignore that life is bliss
How can I write about a soldier, whose name I'll never know
Killed at nineteen years old, his family he'll never see grow
Or even explain to his parents, when carried from the AH-1
His body bullet riddled and limp, when lifted it bloodily run
I never went back to the theatre, called the Vietnam War
Having witnessed the wanton killing, what were we fighting for
This colonial conflict that started, us on the side of France
So many came back as strangers, many to live in trance
James Fraser's entry into the contest " WORLD OF WAR: VIETNAM "
See the girl living on the streets? does anyone know she is there,
Do you see that girl down in the dumps? and does anyone care.
We don't know the reason that she left her home and do any of us want to know?
She's out in all weathers without any covers in rain, hail and snow.
Does anyone wonder if she's ever lonely when we're all tucked up in our beds,
when she's wet and cold, and we're warm and cosy does it ever enter our heads.
She might have been beaten when her home she left, she's sad and she's lonely and often bereft.
Does anyone see me alone on the streets? trying to smile at all that I meet,
asking for pennies for a warm cup of tea, we're not all on drugs, at least not me.
I'm trying to avoid going down that road I try to remember the things I've been told.
Stories of people lying in the gutter, and people passing by all of a mutter.
Do they care, what they see there? I suppose they think it's everywhere !
But I would like to say to all of you . I don't take drugs, I'm one of the few.
So to all of you sat home by your fires, spare a thought for me,
when you pass me by tomorrow, I'd love a cup of tea.
Do you know what its like to be
in absolute darkness?
And I want to be back
on a foggy night
where winter doesn't fall too far
the only thing you can see
is a distant street light
yellow and gold
glowing from the distance
the wet leaves that fell from the trees
fill the night
with a dewy smell
I turn the key
flood the road
one line, two lines,
they all combine
into a white blur keeping me
from crossing into the abyss
I could drive forever
I want to be gone again
back to my home.
The sky screams,
air is thick.
Seconds like days,
years 'tween each tick.
Tit for tat the raptors dance.
Each step wounds, talons like bayonets.
Earth below quakes at each traded blow.
Foundations shaken by spat of foes.
Frosted, frozen, clad in ice.
The world stands still, fear the vice.
The center may boil, but winter-wrapped still
She cannot reach out, no pow'r to stop the kill.
Alas, Earth stands back and wills done be the fray.
Final thundering shrill shrieks, 'tis gone for today.
The scars still remain,
Unbeknownst to they that tread.
Earth still feels the pain,
Still feels gelid winter's dread.
I am A shadow That lurks on The wall that has No Home None at all But to have no home a
Shadow would say is worst way to live out each day.
I am The shower cap covered in rust i do not work right but I am a must so you put up
with me for the time being until you used me all for your need.
I am an outcast who sits alone who is treated like I do not belong and goes off alone to
cry plotting his end as others laugh at me and spin wicked lies about things I've done
making me wish i ended it with a gun.
I am the friend you once had that moved away and made you sad but said good by and turned
away as you tried to stop me and make me stay but i smile and say the words you wished to
hear all those years.
I am me a young man with hope who ends his day trying to cope with the withdraws from
drugs like dope and cry's as he chokes on his own words when he looks at you and you spit
and curve away from me and all i did was say hi to ye but it wasn't you that made me cry
it was the feeling of wanting to die to hide away from the world from those who say
I Am a mess a nothing a no one.
Nobody knows the pain she hides,
No one cares to look inside.
This little girl that’s only nine,
Has to fight to stay alive.
Her mom’s an alcoholic,
And her daddy does drugs.
She gets beaten and bruised,
Instead of kisses and hugs.
Nobody hears the little girl’s cries,
Nobody notices her wet swelled eyes.
When her mommy is drunk and her daddy is high,
So she doesn’t get beaten, she has to hide.
She’s sick of the pain,
That she suffers from every night.
She’s sick of getting punished,
For her mom and dad’s fights.
So, she went downstairs and grabbed a rope,
And hung it way up high.
She stood on a chair and put her head through the noose,
And jumped and hung there to die.
Her mom came home drunk that night,
Her daddy came home high.
To find her hanging by the rope,
To find out she had committed suicide.
Nobody knew the pain she hid,
Nobody cared to look inside.
The little girl that had wet swelled eyes,
Committed suicide and no longer has to fight to stay alive.
Why did you hit Mommy?
You can't punish me,
You're not my daddy!
You say not to hit,
But your actions declare you a hypocrite.
You push Mommy down,
But you say not to tell unless I say she fell.
I try my darnedest to be good,
But you say I'm not action like I should.
You hurt my feelings,
But you say you're just teaching me something with meaning.
You come home with more than just Mommy,
But you say I saw nothing
The night you came home drunk,
You know the night you shot Mommy with a shotgun . . .
The night you left her beaten, bruised, scarred,
Bleeding on the ground. . .
The night she went to sleep and never woke up
That night I was left alone,
Nowhere to go.
Why did you do it
When you said you loved Mommy?
Why did you leave me stranded
When you said you cared about me?
Because of you
I am left here to die
Beside this dumpster where you told me to lye.
I've been waiting here like you said,
But you r face I have not seen
You have let me down, Mister,
But that is nothing new.
You always told me to be a good child,
So I will.
With what's left of me,
I will wait,
Calling your name . . .
Mister . . . ?
Mister . . . ?
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
I do not know?
(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)
Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,
they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.
They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,
and white was right in South Africa back then,
but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,
you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.
You, my mother, would not, could not break,
You stood firm, you stood tall.
You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.
You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,
the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,
my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,
by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.
You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.
You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,
you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,
you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.
Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,
all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.
I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,
the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.
I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,
you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,
of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.
I salute you!
(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)
I called my mother the other day- just to listen to her voice
She answered dear Steve – yes this is me- how are you this day
I said I was fine- it has been some time- I searched for more words to talk
She cantered a bit then came to a halt- as I began to say
Mother dear- this is Mark- how are you today
Mark she replied- I have a Mark- he was the oldest of three
How is school - are you making good grades- are you coming home real soon
I told her I would- If only I could- would she know me anyway
I visited my mother the other day- at a home for Alzheimer patients
Her stare in the air- made it be known- that she could not remember
I sat by her side- we nibbled on crackers- we looked out the window pane
Then I was father- she told me she miss me –I cried a thousand tears
She reached for my hand- I did not resist- I was blessed to make her happy
How are you Tom- I said I was fine- The kids will be home soon
I told her it’s time- I must go home - I have to work tomorrow
I took her hand- I’ll see you soon- Goodbye Steve she told me
As my Mother slips away today- how precious are my memories
For after this world –I can hardly wait- for my Mother to recognize me
I can act insane
But DO NOT
Make me feel worthless
I belong in God’s family
He will bless my future generation
Don’t punish me for
Being myself –
Don’t envy my glee
I can act like an
Adult, but I’d
Prefer to have joy…
That piles upon us in our
Being childlike is
A rare beauty –
No one prizes it…
No one came across it…
In this lifetime…
I can laugh all day
I can make you smile
If you’d accept my
Childlike dreams of mine
Don’t treat me like a sick swine
Renew my young heart
Give me the ability
To kill the old man…
I have my place in God’s family
He’ll be adored and glorified
We’ll exchange prayers and hugs
By my future generation
I beg of you –
Don’t kill my childlike mentality
I’ll behave myself…
I’m positively sure that I’ll make you happy
I’ll still have pieces of a child in me
And pass it on to my future generation…
All my life,All my days
Wolves and sheep alike flock with me
Like a magnet,they are drawn to me
Like bees,they swarm around me.
Sucking my honeycomb to Sahara
Like mosquitoes,they bite and go
but like Twist,they want more
Vampires,what a befitting title.
They've built roofless shelters
Right in the corner of my pocket,
the home of my juiciest fruit
believing in its strong cover,
when the rainy days roll in.
They milk me dry with their pincers,
Descending on my defenseless self
Pouncing on my vulnerability
Like a relentless leech,
they hold on to my apron.
Ripping me has become a hobby.
Till i am as dry as the fig,
my udder will be home to them.
Venomous blood sucking parasites
They will follow me to the end.
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
I am but a traveler, a visitor, observer;
Call me an alien, if that is your wish.
In truth, I am very much like you,
But I am exiled here, marooned.
I am not here for a crime of my own,
But rather so that I can watch and learn;
To observe humanity as it prospers and grows
To experience Earth and its sorrows and joys.
Your world is pleasant, yet here I feel lost.
How strange are your customs and lives!
That a minority flourish while many more die
And the ones with power turn a blind eye
To all of the suffering, torment, and death.
Does it take a stranger to notice these things?
To see that the greed and vice of mankind,
Leads up to war, and destruction soon follows.
How greatly I yearn to go home!
Where pain is no more and Death has no power
And everyone smiles because they are free
And evil and suffering are nothing but dreams.
I pine daily for the place I belong.
Yet the distractions of Earth are ruthless.
I fear now that they will entangle and blind me,
And my home will seem more like the dream.
Then I would be little more than human.
And I would no longer be me.
welcomes the sun
earthly beauty revealed
celebration in paradise
apple difficult to resist
one bite never enough
mourn the dying
This poem is not a true cinquain, but loosely follows the cinquain format. The fifth line is used as a transition or mirror for the two parts of the poem.
I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react
When you etch
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
This boiling crown
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.
I had a friend ,, from long ago
We were only young you know
She was my best friend
At least that's what I thought
We did everything together
I liked her a lot !
But then one day
I had to leave for school
Though I wish I did not
Cause I missed her a lot
Then one day I came home
When I called out to for her
She did not answer me
I looked for her high & low!
But then I heard one day
From the TV news man
That she had met 3 bad men
And they took her away
She is with the angels now
For it could not be any other way
And I know she waits for me
Cause she was always that way !!!
I moved away from home, age 16, up to Oregon to get my degree in child psychology & teaching, come home at 18. had a dream that Sandy and I went to a house party "both of us age 18" then she went into another room with 3 men. So I stood there & knocked forever on the door. Sandy never came out. This is a TRUE dream !
A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
And as the weary dawn laid all its burdens upon the restless sky, a quite light of morning tickled the sleepy heart of mine, a yearning tear landed on my cozy pillow, and a well painted smile crossed its way through my lips, I left up my head and gazed into the sky through the glass of my dusty window, I put on my coat and rushed myself out, the air was clouded with cold breezes of wind, and the street was still wet of few drops of rain, the pavements were empty and I was the lonely who’s passing down this road, I lighted up a cigarette, sighed deeply and whispered to myself: I think I just miss home.
I think I miss my torn out toys up in the shelf of my closet, and I miss that crowded street we used to play on till night, the air was fresher and the sky was brighter, the sun used to be shining and life used to be the sweetest, I think I miss home where all my troubles rest as I sleep and all my aches fade away as I weep, home is where all the memories dwell and all the dreams shine, home is where I belong and I think I lost my way back home.
Come and listen awhile I pray
To hear a sad love story,
I have only a minute to stay
To tell the tale of Malcolm McCorey.
I'm Malcolm, Sally was my bride
I've loved her since grade school,
She was my life and my pride
And, I was her ever loving fool.
Work let off early that night
And it was pouring down in sheets,
When my eyes beheld the sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.
My Sally was not forthcoming
And, I was blind by love's adoring,
I swear I never saw it coming
The day my Sally went a whoring.
This wasn't some casual adoring
That I might could understand,
This was at our home a whoring
In our bed with another man.
It was a cold and rainy night
And it was pouring down in sheets,
I wasn't prepared for the sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.
The truth came like a blinding light
She couldn't wait to shut the door,
When I came home early that night
While she gaily played the whore!
She glared up at me in surprise
At seeing me suddenly arrive,
I stared back into her lying eyes
Down the barrel of my forty five!
It was a stormy and dismal night
And it kept pouring down in sheets,
I'll never forget the awful sight
Of Sally whoring 'tween the sheets.
The Padre' comes to comfort me
My life's now run it's course,
Today my pain will cease to be
Soon, I'll feel no more remorse.
I forgive myself of all at last
My soul will soon go soaring,
Today will soon be o'er and past
The pain, of Sally gone a whoring.
* Malcolm was executed in may of 1969. May God have mercy on his soul.
Timothy I. Brumley
Susan sits by an open window
Remembering her brother
It was during the sixties when it happened
The exact date was May 8, 1966
They called the Sixties liberating
A time when America accepted change
But it wasn’t like that for everyone
Her brother Stevie
Was two years younger than she was
The guys in school used to call him names
Like sissy boy and queer
Saying if he got into trouble his sister would have to stick up for him.
But Stevie was better
Way better than the bullies at school.
At home Susan and her brother
Would move the living room coffee table
Push the old couch back
And then sing the old favorites
In close harmony
Songs about teenage love
Like the sad love ballads by the Everly Brothers
Or the Righteous Brothers
The sadder the love song
The more they liked it
They would stand together
Moving ever so slowly
And sing those songs so loud
And so close
To each other’s face
Over and over
And then Stevie would whistle the ending
While their parents
Clapped and clapped
Then one late afternoon
When Stevie didn’t come home from school
The phone rang and rang
With a strange incessant kind of ringing
That jarred their mother
It was someone from the school saying
That horseplay got out of hand
Then the police came
A man in a suit spoke to father in the kitchen
Whispering over the clouds of cigarette smoke
Susan could barely hear his hoarse whisper
Only things like “We‘re going to investigate this”
And “I promise I’ll do what I can”
Her family never did find out what happened to the investigation.
Along the way
Away from home
Something peculiar happened to Susan
She lost something of herself
And would sit
Staring out of the window
Not seeing anything
Just thinking of her brother.
She still does it today
Out to nowhere
Every time she hears one of those old songs
She feels that Stevie is still with her.
Forgiveness is a long word
For what happened a long time ago
All Susan has are memories
If she could just absorb them
And put them in a little bottle
And carry them around
So whenever she started feeling down
She’d open the bottle
And all those good memories
Would remind her just how special life is
And Stevie would still be there
Their bodies entwined
She holding the last note
He snapping his fingers
Whistling the last sad tune.