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Sad Women Poems | Sad Poems About Women

These Sad Women poems are examples of Sad poems about Women. These are the best examples of Sad Women poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Blank verse | |

Patchwork Girl

As we watch the girl stumble inside of her cage.
We wait, from without, and we shout out directions.
Answers opposing, our voices clang together --
As useful as banging of pots to the floor.

Enslaved, she carries the weight of his weakness.
Pulled to bloody knees, she dare not cry out.
While around us were blue skies and grasses so green,
Her sky was obsidian, with dust at her feet.

Filled with remorse, bruises deepen and spread
Into scars and disease she thinks cannot heal.
The patchwork girl, with no shroud for cover,
Lay broken and hollowed in chains of defeat.


Details | Quatrain | |

A Soul Cries

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
They say he has neither a head nor limbs
But he has a soul and a spirit
Undesirable is the soul to be taken from the womb

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
His voice is so mild that no one can hear him
He’s damned for a crime he didn’t commit 
No supplication and inspiration to share

A soul still cries yet nobody hears him
He has neither words nor songs to hymn
He’s languishing from a lashing whip 
A victim to hatred, dubiety and immorality 

A soul cries yet nobody seems to care
He pleas for his precious life to be spared
Yet with a mild voice no one will give an ear
 With despair he cries and screams into the night

A soul cries yet this girl has turned a deaf ear
A voice tells her “eliminate him from here” 
But a master fate will sometimes have it to be
The Dame escorted him six feet underground

The Poet Preacher © 2014


Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....






Details | Free verse | |

The Hands of Pain

My soul pounds with rage.
This heart has been scorched,
by your burning words.

My soul gasps for light 
slowly suffocated,
By your hands of pain.

I bare the mark of shame.
Your touch has maimed my body.
My mind drowned out my screams.

Blow by blow,
Shamed so low.
Never did you know how,
Your hands of pain marked me.


Details | Rhyme | |

Let Him Go

This poem I wrote. I call it " Let Him Go "

Sweetheart don't cry
Don't let him make you feel like your nothing
You do have family even though we are not close by
I know your heart is crushing
Don't harp on the past
Don't let him play with your head
You need to get over him fast
His feelings for you are dead
Over 2 years and you still don't have a ring
Your not the one he calls his wifey to be no more
Take a seat and listen up girl here is the thing
He's playing with your feelings and using you like a two dollar whore
I know you were smart once and can be again
He has you so brain washed it's not funny
I know hearing all this is a strain
Think of the example your setting for you little ones honey
Hold your head high and walk away from that loser mama's boy 
Show him that your the one that is too good for his sorry ass
Hell he's such a mama's boy you can find better pleasure in a toy
Your related to me so come on show your sass 
Let go of the past and look to a new future
Let go of the pain and the control freak
Say bye bye Looser
It will get easier one step at a time week by week......


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 | Lyric | |

Garden Rose

Written August 21, 2013


There's a girl in the garden
She's messing with your rose bed
Plucking weeds out from your head
And watering the seeds in your bed

But where will she wander
When the roses are dead
Will she come back for more
When they turn back to red

She can run all alone
Write this story in stone
On concrete slabs
Of skin and bone


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(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)






Details | Ballad | |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | I do not know? | |

JUST SO YOU ALL KNOW

Just one more slam before I leave this be
All you women who thinks he is so great
You are welcomed to the cheat
You are welcome to the thief
You are welcome to the user
You are welcome to the financial abuser 
You are welcomed to the man of many words
The man who used me for my money and opportunities 
The man who used countless women for what he can get out of them
God used me to take him from the US 
So he couldn't rob another woman there
Yes this story seems surreal but it is TRUE 
He who feels it knows it
I wish I could warn every woman before it is too late
I did have an encounter with the man
The man who latched on to a fictional character on the Soup
Thinking it was a wealthy widow he would be able to rob 

Yes he has words but not just for poetry
He has a degree in being a con artist 
There I’m done with it!!!! 
Just so you all know



Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Light Poetry | |

Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast
As her beauty glistens on the outside, her beast brutalizes and demeans her insides.
Belligerent engaged and in war with herself, hostile aggressiveness makes her beast comes out.
She desperately cries out, unable to discipline herself.
Her beast disassociates and separates her from forming any relationships with anyone else.
Her beast slowly takes her dignity and devitalizes her pride.
She is weaken and deprived of life.
She no longer sees her worth; her eyes tell her story of hurt.
Pain as a contributor a well-known donor, love has divorce her.
Forsaken entirely abandon since birth, to be truly loved she thirst.
Unable to see her beauty runs deep, genuinely shows her generosity that emphasizes her sincere honesty.
She garnishes her beastliness while smiling.
As her beast is hiding deeply behind her eyes, her glazy stare intensify her happy appearance as a glassy finish.
As her beast is frantic, her beauty becomes fraudulent.
Her smiles more deceitful her heart grows fragile emotions so gullible.
The meaning of love gravels. 
Beauty and the beast she will forever be, for the love she crave the beast will forever eat.
Leaving her dying a unloved sleeping beauty.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Lyric | |

Welcome to the Planet

Welcome to the planet
Wake me when it’s over
The dreamer’s always tempted
To come around and show her

And I just keep wastin my time
On girls that won’t love, me, like their wine
And it’s just too easy to blame
The rock and the system for causing my pain
And I just want you to know that I’m through
With being alone, when I’m with you 
And when you mask the truth with your lies
It just won’t get any better for the rest of your guys

And when you fall asleep
The night covers your tears
And the darkness sees you weeping
Cause your conscious can’t be cleared
This year you’re feeling colder
Your heart’s a little older
You haven’t found your soul mate
And now you think you’re too late

But one look inside of my eyes
Gives you the hope that there’s a guy
Who can make you feel happy and sad
And it’ll be worth it to feel that again


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 | Dramatic monologue | |

Ex-Boyfriends and Ex-Girlfriends

Since the men and the women are no longer dating, I guess the relationship is over. All types of break-ups have affected the lives of all would-be ex-lovers since ever. It seems that when the guys and the girls decide to break up, their hearts will have been broken into pieces. And after this bad break up, these people are really depressed, which means that they can’t eat, they can’t sleep, they lose interest in life, and stuff. And what is so sad about the men and the women being ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is that they’re making fun of each other for no apparent reason or whatever. Why, this is starting to look like the battle of the sexes and World War 2 or 3. I’m told that all serious relationships will have ended in multiple break-ups, especially when a man and/or a woman will have found out that his/her boyfriend/girlfriend has cheated on him/her with another suitor or his/her own family members (male or female cousin, e.g.). On top of all that, it makes everybody sick just thinking about it. Not only have these people (the guys and the gals) have broken each others’ hearts, they’ve humiliated and embarrassed each other publicly and personally. And if these people knew that they we’re going to cheat on each other, then they shouldn’t have been together at all. Looks like the guys and the girls are better off without each other and alone anyway. So now I know why I’m not in a relationship with someone right now. And I have no time to think about getting into a serious relationship with one female. And if all types of break-ups continue to affect the lives of all men and women, there’s no stopping it. Something must be done this instant.


Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Details | Free verse | |

Between soul and body

Why you seem sad?
How is for this moon to sadden?
Why pearls pour down from your eyes?
As the raindrops
What is the secret?
What is the matter?
What is the avail of sadness?
And we are hanging in ropes of the sin
And between rope and gallows
An orphan friendship
And between me and you
A new world
Between my eyelash and tears
Painful memories
My lady!
Between city and city
Long distances
Thousand barriers
Thousand souls immigrating
Thousand temples
Thousand priests
Thousand knights
Thousand nights
Thousand devils
And between heart and heart
Farness and yearning
Thousand mercies
Thousand pulses
Thousand love
Thousand addresses
Thousand words
Thousand lies
Thousand candles
And between eye and eye
Hidden Language and dialogues
Thousand tears
Thousand roses
Thousand tones
Thousand winks
Thousand whispers
Thousand touches
Thousand kisses
But between soul and body
One life.............One life.....


Details | Romanticism | |

Can't Love be with me for once

Can't Love be with me for once

in my life.

Can't Love for once in my life

see the way I live

and accept me for who I am

and not for what I possess.

I have seen love bounce back and forth

through the darkened streets of life

and I sat on the park benches,

alone.

I can't wait till love comes again

but can't love just be with me for once

and live with me, embrace me, to see me late at night,

come through the doors of perception.

Can't Love be with me for once

throughout the valleys of sorrow and depression

and shine its glorious face onto me,

like the first morning rays of the sun at dawn.

I cannot understand, why

Love can't just be with me for once...

Why?

I ask you, why?

Can't Love just laugh, and talk to me

Can't the arrow of Cupid find me already.

I have found my time, now I have no love.

The beauty of Plato's words that melt of the page

as you read word for word, and my heart melts away.

Why can't love just be with me for once,

once in a great, blue moon.

Too walk through the dew sprinkled, dawn days in August

as I walk to my chamber

and ready to love,

but love can't be found.

Can't love just come already.

Show its pretty face,

Hold my hand,

kiss me and I kiss back,

to read a book of poetry to her

as she lays in my arms,

and then we shall make love

under the twilight.

The stars shall shine

the moon shall be bright and full

and I shall find love one day.

One lonely day, as I sit in the wayward cafe

drinking my sorrows away,

writing my poetry

and love shall walk through that door

I shall find her and take her by the hand

and kiss her upon her soft cheek.

I just ask,

Why can't love just be with me for once.


Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Thin

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
For kicks is why I do it now.
You tell me to love but I never knew how.
Our feet hitting pavement,
We spent the day in sunny California with sun kissed skin.
I’m learning to forget and how to fade scars,
And you let me let myself down so hard.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
And now I just do it for smiles,
We’ll never see flower girls stumbling down aisles.
I’d lose my head just before that chance,
But if you want we can still have a first dance.
Cause I think I say things that I don’t mean,
Once upon a time you meant the world to me.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
But I’m trying to refrain,
To make this not all end up in vain.
Maybe I can learn to love like some people do,
And you can learn to love yourself a little too.
Or it is in all fairness to let this go?
I guess we can try but then we’ll never know. 


Details | Free verse | |

When a Man cries Himself to Sleep

When a man cries himself to sleep,
it is a sad sight to see,
tears roll off his cheek
and onto his bed sheets and pillow case.
When you hear his somber cries,
you can feel his pain
when he wimpers like a child who treds in fear.
No one knows what they do to a man
when they play with his emotions,
lead him on,
take advantage of him.
They don't know what they do to an innocent man
looking for love.
They break his heart that is full of love,
they stab him in the back
when he needs them at his most vulnerable moment
they laugh at him, and tease him,
Do they know what they do to a man?
They slowly kill a man, who just wants a simple kiss on the lips,
they kill a dreamer, a good man, with a big heart.
They drive a man to his bed,
with tears running down his face
and force him to dream of nightmares.
When a man cries himself to sleep, 
it is that saddest thing to see.
Goodnight and sweet dreams...


Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/


Details | Verse | |

I blame me

I blame me for all my mistakes
I blame me for all the rejection and heartache
I blame me for all the times I stayed silent 
and should have started and earthquake
with my words
I should have spoken up when I had the chance
now all those thoughts are wasted
unspoken, unheard

I blame me when my husband touches me 
and I feel the hands of a predators pounce
And I blame me when the pressure it on
because all I had to do was shout out and renounce His name
Lord, help me to get rid of the shame

I blame me for my loneliness
I blame me for my feelings of lust
I blame me when I look at myself and see absolute disgust
I blame me when I shut down - unsure of who to trust
At times not even sure if I really know how to love

I blame me when my kids are crying out sick
because when I brought them here
I knew that this world was unfit
Yet overpowered by my love for them 
I became more and more protective
So I blame myself in advance for their sadness
when they finally see that the world is not objective

I blame me for those nights I can't rest
Wondering if my consciousness has finally realized
that I have done my best
to stay positive and have good intentions
So I blame myself when I give in to temptations and my human inhibitions
and begin to feel ashamed of myself
I begin to feel like I don't have enough strength to love myself
because
good things don't happen for me
So I blame me for my thinking and feelings of worthlessness

It's a big world and my lonely soul has no more confidence
I have nothing
I have given up 
and so I blame me for my incompetence and my soul's rut


Details | Epigram | |

A STRANGE BEDFELLOW

Woman Is Insulted,
By Challenging His Manhood;
Getting His Buddies To Rape,
Was His Way Of Reinforcing.

He, Not a Man,
Force Himself On a Feminist.
Give a Valid Reason While Rape.
Feminist Tempt Masculine

By Their Proactive Dressing.
Insubordination To Human Nature.
Could It Be That
Masculine Is Weak?

By The Sight Of Bear Breast?
Victims Feel Ashamed And Unclean.
FEMA Seventeen Events Took Place.
Recurring In Nightmare First Man Exploded Inside Her.

It Was Her First Encounter.
Screaming She Was,
Thought Masculine Was Urinating On Her.
Bath I Must Have Said For Years.

Dirty She Felt And Wasn’t Enough Water To Cleanse Her Body.
Rapist Defilement And Innocence Body.
Fellow, Who Should Be Ashamed?
And Feel Unclean And Unfit For Civilized Society?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE ANNIHILATION OF UKRAINIANS

THE ANNIHILATION OF UKRAINIANS
Kyrie was struggling to overcome barriers of demarcation. “Holodomor” she was facing. This artificial famine was brutally taking Ukrainians lives. In nineteen hundred and twenty-nine, the manifestation of human hate crimes would be a terrorist regime. The screens Kyrie would experience would became life threatening. “Death by hungry” was in all eyes. Eighty years has passed. Soviet Joseph Stalin’s massacre transpired. From nineteen hundred and thirty-two thru nineteen hundred and thirty-three the Soviet regime took seven million lives. Kyrie and her brother Allah was blessed to survive. The story is her father died early on. Her mother walked far to find food. She would exchange her earnings and a gold pendant she wore on her dress just for a sack of flour and nothing else. She formed the flour into a loaf of bread, which tasted liked grass. Tears forms knowing this was all her and her children had. Wretchedness it is to know that too many peopled did not have anything at all to eat. To genocide was an atrocity. A silent wasteland of God’s people must be exposed. Ukrainians today discloses. _________________________| PENNED ON AUGUST 25, 2014!


Details | Free verse | |

Vertical Lines

Don't forget to cross the Ts
and dot your Is
because if you don't do that
they're just lines vertical on a page.
Lets us forget about the imperfect words
that make us cry
the vertical lines,
like jail bars hold us back.
Stand up and out and roar like a lion!

she is mine, I love her,
but I am quiet,
held back by the vertical lines
the black oily jail bars,
that keep my hear caged in
everytime I cry and people don't listen
the guard taps his nightstick upon
the vertical bars,
the imperfect feelings of pain and sadness
feeling like this it bores me 
feeling like this makes me sick
and I feel myself wanting to vomit
and shake the nervous feeling
of falling into a dark hole,
so I sit behind these vertical lines,
like cocaine lines, ready to snort up your nose,
like cigarettes lined in a perfect and neat row,
like empty wine and beer bottles
littering around my feet.

The vertical lines take me away from reality,
close my already blinded eyes
with a black blindfold.
These jail bars cross my soul,
chain my the ankles and wrists,
and choking me, holding my head under water,
I can't breath!!! Help me!
These vertical bars hold me back in life,
hold my emotions from coming out,
to tell you how I feel for you!
I no more want vertical lines,
I want to be free.
Drive horizontal roads that wined and turn around beautiful mountains
too take a deep breathe and share the beauty
to watch the horizontal horizon.
Too sit on a beach shore and write till the sun goes down
and the mermaids sings cheerful tunes
that uplift my spirits and break the remaining vertical lines
that bind and hold my heart in place.

There is nothing beautiful in a straight line,
let alone a vertical one.
Horizontal, vertical all bad in their own ways,
always trapping us, like jail bars or barbwire that streches across the open lands.
Love has no lines,
no boundaries,
so why should I have lines that bind me together
holding my head underwater,
till a spark lights a powder keg and blows me sky high
and I finally set myself free
and roam the horizon for ever.


Details | Free verse | |

Scars of an Inner Child

You are not the man, you want to be
You said you were my Father, till, I discovered different
Enduring, daily beatings
Bashing the living day lights, out of a woman and a child
Repetitive, bad ass attitude, nasty streak
Mean and aggressive!
Fists, knives and guns, your weapons of chose
Out of control, abusive, devious
Relentless, over – bearing!
Breaking me, piece by piece
Confusing a child, with unhealthy love
Hand fed your bullshit, brain washed
Using me as your human, punching bag
This innocent child’s blood, staining your callas hands
My child’s curiosity, asking you one day
“Why do you hurt me and Mum?”
Your retort: “I am not your blood!”
I didn't understand, back then
Now, as an adult, I clearly understand!
Believe me, when I say
There was never a day that went past
That you didn't remind me of that!
My freedom, restrained
My sanity, tested
Caged, like a wild bird in captivity
Behind bars, looking out
 Here, I am today, free from your grip
Nursing, this inner child’s, bleeding love


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | I do not know? | |

Tales Of A Computer

My love for you has never swayed
I took my vows I promised it all
I opened my heart I took down the sheild
I was in love head over heel
You loved me to, or so I throught
Then the day came it wasn't me you sought
There were many other women you wanted to feel
You didn't care who they were or what they brought
I was here for you, but you wanted them all
Oh what a tale that computer did tell
While I was hurting and crying
You were typing and playing
For years you had been doing it
My pain to you didn't matter a bit
your cold heart is all I ever got
On other women you wanted your warm body and hands so hot
This was the crummy hand I was dealt
Because you wanted all those notches on your belt
I was here for you, but you wanted them all
Oh what a tale that computer could tell
You were so cruel to me, not a nice word to say
All along you were planning your day
You would be with another, giving her your all
There was no time for me big or small
You typed and played while I had to stand tall
I was here for you, but you wanted it all
Oh what a tale that computer did tell 


Details | Free verse | |

Songs of Sorrowed Hearts

What makes this world go around?
What makes Death walk the Earth
and God sit on his throne and watch over us?
What makes love go around with such favour
and strut along side lonesome avenues?
What does a widow, a motherless child, a Vietnam veteran
and a boy who has had his fare share of heartbreaks,
all have in common with each other?

They were all promised a beautiful life,
free for all to love, free from the pain of betrayal
and anger.
We are what make the world go around,
I am the poet who sits and looks at love walk down the street,
and watch the blind eyes stare deep in my soul.
I am the poet, that feels the pain of a heart torn in two.
He his the poet who writes of smiles, to forget the frowns
and tears.
She is the poetress that writes of her success,
in order to forget her past that tortured her soul,
now he and she walk together writing poetry
sharing their love and smiles with the world.
But with smiles, also comes frowns,
with hearts full of love, comes hearts full of sorrow,
and someone has to stay behind and write of the bad
has to write and compose the songs of the sorrowed hearts.

We are all given love,
but it takes some whole lives to understand
the dark mystery that tags along with beautiful love.
Someone has to suffer the pain,
someone has to sacrifice his or her happiness,
so another poet can feel the beauty in happiness and pain.
I am willing to sacrifice my time and heart,
for my fellow poet to feel the smiles grow on their faces
and feel love uplift their heart,
while the black cancer tears apart mine.
I will go on, with what is left of my heart and smile,
and go into my room of creativity
and compose the songs of sorrowed hearts
for future poets, like that came before me.