His mind has all the meaning of a madman that is screaming
Tortured and tormented, a life lived to be lamented
Drained and defeated, his family finally retreated
Leaving him believing that he was beyond redeeming
The doctors sent in spoke of hope and healing
The drugs they administered only made him more demented
Cemented is the feeling that his life is just an echo
Of an endless, timeless, all-consuming screaming
His best friend is a disproportioned bird, appropriately named buddy
Whose monotonous motion in drinking is somewhat soothing to his being
Though not potent enough to stop, the persistent pounding of the screaming
Often he stares into the emptiness of nothingness, contemplating the beauty
of its existence
Only to find his mind is drowning in a confounding conundrum he can’t quite
It’s hard to be philosophical when your mental testicles have fallen to the proper
So sometimes he whispers tongue twisters until his brain blisters
Madmen mask madness in the meticulous mastery of mindless tasks
Buddy was telling a troubling tale, of a dragon drunk off of some dwarven ale
Who through two days, threw up flames and burnt down the tavern and town
When the door to his room opened with a plume of plum perfume
In stepped an inept and unkempt nurse named Nancy
Her green eyes and fiery red hair caused his heart to flutter and flair with fancy
She had quite the quiet voice and was quick to trip over her own two feet
A bit naïve, she would easily believe anything she had heard or seen
He knew he would make her his, no matter the time nor energy
It was easy for him to pretend to be prim and proper
Just a mask to don in order to dupe his doctor
Circumventing the system that couldn’t save him
He was as he always had been and would be
In constant pain and agony with no desire for sympathy
Just in need of some freedom from his prison and medication
Meditation and mantras had given him the sentiment of a design
On how to inhibit the screaming, and maybe even end it
Four years plotting and planning the perfect moment of promise
A fire formed from a single flamed fueled from an accelerant
It raced through the halls, up the walls, over the ceiling, killing all the residents
Eighty-eight inmates and staff burned alive in what felt like an instant
Such little time to search through the bodies, looking for a single person
He found her on the fourth clinging to the bathroom faucet
He lost his virginity to the burnt corpse of Nurse Nancy
To his amazed mind, he was astonished to find, the screaming was silenced
just a note I cannot reduce the font so the lines fit without overlapping as they
do in stanza two
As he slept in tranquil dream,
Suddenly he flew, it seemed.
Thrown and landing on the floor,
Shaking walls and splintered doors.
Just as quick, the room grew still.
Distant tremors he could feel.
Out the door, and up the rock,
There he stood in sleepy shock.
How could oceans disappear.
Then a hissing he could hear
And a trembling, heavy roar
Headed for an empty shore.
Sunrise turned a greenish hue,
As he climbed, a better view.
Seeming far too large, he saw
What must be a water wall.
Thought of ancient stories told
Of a wrath that could unfold;
Sucking oceans with a breath,
Spewing endless waves of death.
Instinct quickly cleared his mind.
Panic now, he clawed and climbed.
Up, despite the screams he hears,
As a village disappears.
Once an evil came to call,
Scooped them up and took them all.
Now he's old, his stories wane,
Of the morning Satan came.
When Hell Froze Over
Trees shed their leaves,
the worms dig in deeper
Mothers cry and grieve
woman is the best weeper
Cold blasting each night,
birds froze on the ground
Sad hell was the fight
no hope was ever found
Winter ate their souls,
the keepers of evil hearts
Soldiers fought epic goals
the dead filled the carts
War or cold killed more,
dead is dead, hope gone
Wasted prayers to implore
heroes frozen all alone
Trail, path frozen dead,
winter sent home too soon
asleep but not in a bed
never to sing another tune
Retreat frenchmen knew well,
as their army frozen there
Now germans found this hell
in the frozen land of the bear!
Robert J.Lindley, 09-20-2014
Hitler's armies were frozen out just as were Napoleon's in the previous century. Russian winter was an enemy that killed mercilessly.The winter of 1941-42 was one of the worst in recorded history. Daily temperatures fell to 40 degrees below zero. German soldiers had not been issued with warm winter clothing as Hitler believed that the invasion would be over by the winter. Soldiers froze to death in their sleep,
diesel froze in fuel tanks and food was in very short supply. Russian soldiers had been issued with winter clothing and did not suffer as badly as their German enemies....
Abuses hurled and Alcohol gurgled,
In the vortex of confusion
And blurred vision.
Intoxicated pleasure from surreal leisure.
Fooled senses and numbed conscience.
Wiped existence of love and kindness cuffed.
Lashed at the one he once loved.
Cringed and clung to her faint faith.
She and her cursed fate.
Exploding paroxysm of hate.
Her whipped ivory skin and bleeding lips,
Eyes with teary tinge,
Has the harvest moon singed.
Stillness of the night, pierced
By memories of bitterness-sodden years.
"Hurt me not", she trembled with fear,
"let me live for my girl, dear".
The cries colored skies crimson.
Just one reason--Her little girl.
As her daughter stared
With flaming locks and eyes that flared.
By Angom Amy (15)
I don't understand
Why it is
I feel the things I feel
I do the things I do
I don't understand
Why it is
You feel the things you feel
You do the things you do
Now, I understand
Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday…somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…
I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get too political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money…is it land
I do not own any of them…I’m just a simple man
I remember…When I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmother’s hands…
But you ripped my away from her…From my home
you ripped my away from my heart…you ripped me away from my soul
I feel helpless…I feel low…
It’s hard to play along when I know…I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.
When I look at my country…people I want to save
When I look around me…people I need to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
when the range of people is way bigger than you
Freedom…oh how much I’ve heard that word
Freedom…oh how this idea has become absurd
when God gave us life…
He warned us only he can take our lives…
Oh Syria…my home
Oh Syria…my all
Oh Syria…what did they hurt you for?
Oh Syria…I’m here…I won’t let them hurt you anymore…
I am Proud to be your son…
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
unknown five fingers flipping lives
power based dynamic undermines the dramatic
twist the totalitarian love like lashed fragments
bastard basilisk coiled coolly over calming masks
The hybrid eyes close on hatred
Unveil the universal welcoming smile
Happy's perfect when expecting a party
Happy's perfect when expecting a life
Hate the child
Hate the child
Hate the child
Show it love
ensure enraptured trust and warming embrace
unannounced resurgence of relief and trust
tame the tether and tighten the ropes
warning clouds wane and the day shines
The hybrid eyes close on lust
Unveil the welcoming smile
Happy's perfect when expecting norms
Happy's perfect when expecting trust
Show it love
Hate the child
Hate the child
Show it child
Hate the love
Hate the show
Love the show
Show the child
Why am I emerging from the dark
Staring at a bench in City Park.
Breathless air without a bird in song.
So I sit, unknowing, yet belong.
Sudden waves of anguish flood my mind.
Feral, vicious, senseless bursts of time.
Then a calming whisper fills my ear
And my reason now, for being here.
Minutes of my final day proceed.
Mockingbirds and peanut squirrels to feed.
Speckled sun through breezy treetops sway
And two hidden figures inch my way.
Choking arms, a weakness, loss of breath;
Forced behind a thicket to my death.
Off they bolted free without a trace.
Now I'm vengeance. Patiently I wait.
I'm aware each footstep, as they move,
But this peaceful park is where I choose.
Soon they stalk again. I know the place.
Little do they know the wrath they face.
Sketch and Freak
Drag and Jonez
Waste life left
Scared to speak
“Goober Peas” is southern slang for peanuts.
“Goobers” is southern slang for stupid morons
whose brains are about the size of a peanut.
By definition this means that all of the members
of Al-Qaeda, Boko Haram, Hamas, Hezbollah,
ISIS, the Muslim Brotherhood and the Taliban
are indeed certified goobers – brain dead morons.
They train their sons to grow up and become kill crazy maniacs.
They treat women and girls as second or third class citizens.
They have sex with donkeys, sheep, goats and camels.
We should stop saying that they are from the Middle East
and start saying that they are from Gooberville.
Let all sane human beings support the Jewish people of Israel
in their continuing battle against the Goobers from Gooberville.
I never really understood people until I took apart my old school chum Rick.
Now I know exactly what makes the human heart tick.
The intricacy of the human circuitry is Gods most artful work without uncertainty.
Like a great operatic performance accompanied by a grand orchestra, all our organs sing as one and all together.
To give such life as this in a manor of theatrical grandeur, but life comes at a cost however, this is something that we can not sever, for one soul to live it must take from another.
You see hunting a human is just like hunting any animal, you always track those that are weak and incapable.
I study those that indulge greatly in life's pleasurable sins, I always proceed to take them apart starting with their limbs.
To squander such a gift is a crime against those souls no longer living.
It is a crime that should be dealt with swiftly and unforgiving.
You may find my words harsh and cruel but punishment is dealt where punishment is due.
The scholars and gossips call me a Devil worshiper or a Satanist.
But I am an admirer of God and I dream to be like him, a great creationist.
To some I'm known as the mad doctor who haunts the river Rhine, but to my acquaintances I'm known simply as Victor Frankenstein.
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi
the self-appointed leader of the
Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant
jihadist group who declared
portions of Syria and Iraq
to be an Islamic Caliphate
under his personal command
was not birthed from a woman’s womb.
He is some slothful bipedal afterbirth slime
from a strange sexual encounter
between Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin
in Hell itself and then he was dumped on earth
to be raised by a wandering herd of feral pigs.
He is evil incarnate in a subhuman form.
He is the demon child of the Devil.
Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi is Satan’s Spawn.
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
a young girl weeping in the corner
darkness grows deep inside her heart like a cancer
sunken eyes, blood exploding from her nose
angry purple bruises on her thin arms
no one can see her
no one to help her
despair and hopelessness fill her up
he has set a dangerous precedent creating this mess
too many souls are affected by domestic violence
with no help in sight
the menace he displays behind closed doors
shows his cowardly depth
his warped and cruel means
she prays for silence
with arms wrapped around her battered body
sobs locked inside
there will be no spark of light at sunrise
to give her relief from this night of terror
the fear gives a dull ache as she perceives
an unimaginable ending
no doubt sympathetic poured in exceeding a ton
sans the reverberations from the supposed terroristic act doth stun
although neither a native bostonian son nor one who opts to run
my track record racks up with any manner of pun
yet only tears for deadly explosions
and incalculable loss of limb it less life barring none
when cataclysmic dynamic explosions occurred around 3:00 p.m. on mon
day april 15th, 2013
with inexplicable psychic
piercing pain punctured as with countless gun
near bunker hill where american revolution
bred battles for freedom bought
from colonial americans feverish cry for independence caught
with blood, sweat and tears of lexington and concord fought
with nada one justifiable reason and now motive sought
but...when perpetrator identified justice will be taught
adhering the state motto
"By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty"
for religious or those of secular beliefs
whose lives rent asunder with grievous heartbreak wrought
despite the race, religion or creed
of those mortally hurt and/or killed, i feel such heinous deed
only the mindset of a live googly eyed yahoo doth feed
with relish the innocent lives forever he/she now gloating with glee
as a miser with greed
at what august athletes (suffering les miserable’s) lack any wherewithal to heed
for who could foresee where a twisted mind or two would lead
ambitious disciplined bodies would so suddenly need
triage with others on the sidelines to plead
for desperate intervention with utmost speed
heard by ordinary folk now cast as heroes
bursting forth like a hardy weed.
Your words are like stones
Whether skipped or thrown
They fly alone
Bruising and breaking deeper than bones
Yet pain from these stones will never be shown.
Whether near or far
She'll faithfully wait
Till the unknown date
When those stones are kind and lost of hate
You make mistakes
Yes she can relate
But what if the pain becomes to great
Whe the kindness comes too late
Such small pieces of her heart
whats left to make
She gave to much
Now there's none to take
Just one everlasting ache
That your stones did create
They say you can never retake
A women's heart once it breaks
So next time withhold the quake
Your stones with take
And keep this lesson
As a dear keepsake.
<3 Kalee Lynn
a time when war
became no more and time
stopped. Why reason?
a time when feuds
Life stops dead still...
Verlena S. Walker
Date: April 13, 2014
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest Name: THREADS OF SYLLABLES
When chaos brings civilization to its knees
From world wide pandemic critical disease
Or when a tsunami consumes everything beyond the shores
Swallowing the landscape and changing life as we know
Earthquakes shake the very foundation of this world
Or an astroid penetrates the cradle of birth
Bring us back to the primitive unleashing the truth
From the umbilical chord we are more ferocious than rabid wolves
And we will kill fellow man just to survive
Or just for the desire of taking ones life
What is compassion but a dead corpse on the road
Adrenalized by fear no time for sorrows
No need to worry about a world war zombie apocalypse
We're already flesh eating monsters wearing dead skin
Most people panic when they lose internet or their lights
Autonomy is just a word most people can no longer define
And your money isnt worth *****so forget trying to buy
Your way out of cleansing while you run out of time
So learn to die well and hold your loved ones real tight
As you pray that your death will let you ascend to new heights
Beans, bullets, and bandaids are all that I'll need
To keep population zero from taking over me
**** being hopeful could we really be so naive
To think that in these days we could some how find peace
When our mother earth gets restless and releases all of her worst
The only thing more destructive is our human nature
My mind finally past the brink
Of pure insanity;
Slipping deep into the drink,
As I lose my humanity.
Down, down, down into the thick red liquid,
Seeing the bloating corpses;
The thoughts in my mind oh so twisted,
Hearing their distorted pain filled voices.
As I swim deeper into the depths
I slowly become sick and nauseous;
Witnessing all of their gruesome deaths,
I begin to become conscious.
I open my eyes, waking in a room ---
Filled with guts and gloom.
My heart lies out in the cold
Where cold wind blows and
The dark birds of winter sing their song of death.
Seven days I waited for salvation
Slowly, my ever cell froze
Each becoming a crystal of ivory china.
My thoughts, as still as my bones,
Waver as if I was stuck in a wall of glass.
In death I found beauty
Of an everlasting stillness.
Though my body beaten, my face stained,
With tears and blood
and my thighs and hips covered in their own filthy secretion
My face remains a youthful, beautiful woman of desire.
The insides spill out, but the body from which they came,
Will be forever frozen in an illustrious lure.
Forever desired by men of filth, and men of wealth alike.
This is the cold.
You think you’ve gone just far enough,
I could smile knowing you’ve gone far enough that you can’t go back again
You think you were careful but,
I’ve caught a glimpse of your true, wretched form
You think you can find a way into my good graces
I’ve seen what you are, monsters with a friendly costume
You can’t deceive me anymore and, I don’t consort with serpents
You think I’m a game to be played but, trust me, you could never win
Don’t underestimate me
You think I’m a joke but, trust me you won’t be laughing
You think I’m just talking myself up but, trust me, you’re the ones going down
My eyes took too long to adjust
Better late than never
It may take a monster to know one but, I promise my teeth are sharper than yours
My first reaction to the hideous revelation that was your form was to weep
Fall to my knees, maybe even wretch my heart from my chest and onto the carpet
Then I thought about the mess it would make
I decided the only blood that will spill, will be your own
I was not weak, but I had a weakness
A heart of soft gold stitched to my sleeve with care
Now my heart is a stone so heavy
I could kill at least two birds at once
Being the nice guy is a thing of the past
Thanks for freeing me of that softness
You thought I was all sunshine and delicate things
When really I had just been swallowing razor blades
Now that sun is setting and I hope you see it was you who were wrong
Can you feel my darkness coming, because it’s eager to hold you
If you thought I was the one who would just stand still or turn to run
Your gonna be the one with tired feet
I’m not sad anymore
Just sick with the plague of your lies
Contagious, and I’m looking for someone to kiss
Even angels can make themselves wicked
When we do, we take no prisoners
Still think I’m a game
This one is just beginning
My vented heart speaks to you today,
Help me forget the terrible bygones;
The misfortunes of a young girl,
The pain that she felt
In the coercion of another’s body’s act,
Her screams that were wasted
In crying out for help,
The violent hunger that unleashed
Itself on her naïve innocence.
The animals that bit her all over,
Left her abandoned in a place where
No one could find her.
The night soon followed her,
It was darkness that embraced her
She lay in her last breadths of the hour,
When she felt lighter than before,
Released from the burdens of her karma.
And suddenly all blacked out,
In a split second she was gone, and
Peace is all she felt.
With my men holding our flag high,
we storm a school and hold the children
captive, handling them like enemy soldiers
they are not, as they cry and scream, some
probably living with trauma for the rest of their lives
“I am a hero of war!’’ Is that what my countrymen think of me?
As smoke of explosions and burning cities fills the air,
we indiscriminately shoot on whoever is coming close
to us, in the end realizing that we have shot mostly
innocent civilians who have nothing to do with the war,
after the smoke has partially cleared out in the air
As I cautiously walk ahead to ensure that all the enemy soldiers are dead, my boots feel a bump; a hand of a woman holding a white flag for peace, as white as snow, with her clothes drenched in blood
“I am a hero of war!” Is that what my countrymen think of me?
Before the sun sets, my men and I sit around
a bonfire and plan our next move and next
attack on the enemy, without realizing that
the enemy is war, brought about by hatred
by people who we call leaders
“I am a hero of war!” Is that what my countrymen think
Name: Teddy Kimathi
Contest Name: The Poet III
Behind the mask of the schoolboy's cries
Deep in hiding from the bullies lies
A boy of only ten, when it all began
Being forced to submit to a bad man
He was way much older
Putting hand's on my shoulder
To my throat he held a knife
I was afraid for my dear life
Fear of ridicule, fear of shame
Fear of smearing the family name
Not saying a word, holding it all inside
In the darkness my feelings would hide
That summer was over, but the memories were kept
Not a day would go by where the schoolboy wept
Turning to faith, to put those feelings away
Don't know if it was me or you who did sway
The years have now passed, with memories suppressed
Not once having that summer of horrors expressed
Dark Rider he’s a coming
All the people running scared
Panic streaked across their frightened faces
With his mask of blackest horror
He loudly screams at them
His manner cold, he has no lovely graces
He made a deal with Satan
A thousand years ago
He was given immortality
He's crazy don't you know?
The Fiends of Hell all ride with him
With snakes wrapped round them too
He'll hunt you down no matter what you do.
He comes to torture people
He's a beast without a soul
As he travels through the wastelands
With his horde of Hades Ghouls
He has no heart, he has no soul
He only has the power
To trample hearts, so folk will never flower
Dark rider he’s a coming
Folk all running scared
With no one knowing where he's going to be
They're running round in circles
They are, oh yes indeed
He keeps folk captive, never sets them free.
Dec 10 2003
The boots moved slowly,
Crunching sun-baked clay.
A hazy wind down alleyways,
It moves with moans
Then whistles softly,
A child stands in a doorway
Pulling something from his robe.
He keys in certain numbers,
Only doing as he's told.
He waits, then hears a bomb
As it explodes.
A helmet lands and bounces
Near his feet.
He shrugs. then merges with a
The Crusades Began a Holy War
Which Continues to this Day.
We Kill, and Kill, and Now it Seems,
This shall Always be the Way.
One Side Scores, the Others Die,
Then the Cycle is Repeated.
It never Stops, It’s never Done;
The Battles Grow More Heated!
The Way to Peace, it Seems so Clear,
Is not Through Senseless Slaughter.
I Appeal to All, “Please Quit the Fight!”
Save our Sons and Daughters!
To Find Our Way out of the Dark,
We Need only Seek the Light.
A Solution Lies within our Grasp:
Forget who’s Wrong or Right!
This God or that, it Makes no Matter.
This Truth I have Acquired:
Be they Different, or the Same,
The Gods would Preach Cease Fire!
Until 1934 I was a barber, that used to be my profession.
Many people are suffering because of this Great Depression.
A Gangster walked into my shop but when he left, he had to be carried.
He was responsible for many deaths and I made sure that he was buried.
I usually don't brag but this time I love to gloat.
That punk asked for a shave and I slit his throat.
He dealt in Prostitution, Gambling, Booze and Heroin.
I made sure that he couldn't do anything illegal again.
I'm not ashamed of myself even though I lost my freedom and my wife.
I saved people from that animal and a judge sentenced me to life.
I'll be locked up for the remainder of my years.
I don't regret what I did, my conscience is clear.
(This fictional poem takes place in the 1930s.)
Day quickly fades into a fearful silent night
Frightful because within the darkness evil comes to life
Abomination that became legend as legend became myth
The wicked epitome of sin
Beautiful by day but a shapeshifting demon in disguise
It has a long disgusting tongue with unspeakable desires
Blood thirsty creatures eating unborn babies in the womb
Fangs that'll transform people into dead flesh eating ghouls
Severing her body from her legs so it can fly
On serpent angel wings preying on its next victim to die
Bayani took his pregnant wife Amor to the hospital for becoming sick
A three day journey from their mountain village will now begin
Theyll travel through the valleys seeking shelter as they go
Amor wearing garlic on her belly protecting her babies soul
Traveling through jungle & deserted roads along the shore
Knowing when they hear a dreadful cry theyre not alone
With every step they take they abhor the falling moon
Something once so beautiful is now impending doom
By dusk they came upon a village but every door was closed
Desperation in their voice they scream for help with little hope
Dismay dripping from their skin so the demon could smell their fear
Before they heard the dreadful cry the Aswang did appear
In horror they banged on every door pleading for some help
But no one gave relief having their own to protect from hell
Bayani remembered legend perhaps there is a way we can survive
Destroy her legs before she reattached her upper body in morning rise
A task that may be difficult because the lower half they have to find
Before they made a move she swooped down with her evil yellow eyes
She grabbed Amor by her throat as Bayani pled for her life
Please let my wife and baby go and in return you can have mine
She said a lovely gesture but be patient youre the next to die
With a evil grin she slit her throat and consumed their unborn baby still inside
Falling to his knees with a broken heart he asked her why
She said I have no compassion or reason and let me tell you why
"Im the first Aswang of this village
A maiden by the day
Im the reflection of their darkness and their evil ways
Desires that cannot be spoken
A blackened heart equally broken
Habits that are disgusting
I am made of nothing
I am the mirror they will never face
The fear that keeps them all awake
But the truth is much more powerful
I am the face behind their faith
The contradiction of forgiveness
For every time you kneel and pray
Im the fear that keeps the children crying and afraid
It started with a lie
Then desires to reach the sky
Which resulted into sadness
but with a deeper understanding why
Sad because I can see the darkness they themselves alone hav caused
Many more will be like me and many already lost
Failed secrets buried forever
And I will be like them
I am also you
If you wear the wickedness of all your sins"
The coming times can unfold,
far accross to all lands,
the casting shadow has fallen,
with it's far reaching hands,
accross our four cornered world,,
Humanity progressed to progressive sufferage,
that comes with many names,
the ideology won without a shot,
convinced populations into guilted shame,
lost are voices of courage,,
The warring world will arise,
between makers and takers,
parasitic ideology's green eyed mind,
re-writing regulations by progressive thinkers,
big brother's utopian great enterprise,,
Dependent we all become, parasitically,
even forced fed into submission,
by governmental state so enlarged,
numbered you are by institution,
nothing owned, only redistributed cynically,,
Paupers suffer under progressive fortitude,
soulless programs of living propaganda,
your worth, what you produce,
socialized into this living agenda,
living taxed products of servitude,
, and then...
The rise will come independent,
carrying courage and freedom proudly,
with wisdoms weapon in hand,
knowledge in the other soundly,
honor reclaimed by the sentient,,
Independent declarations germinating from seed,
feared by any progressive regime,
warriors in freedom stand tall,
threatened is the progressive dream,
renewing freedoms that will breed,,
The liberty that spawned revolution,
alive from all moral conceptions,
viewed as evil that's progressive,
feared are soulless seeking redemption,
the light of liberty's salvation,,
Beating freedoms of sentient heart,
the salvation of fighting worth,
a force greater than any darkness,
warriors of liberty step forth,
champions of honor that impart,,
, next, the final chapter of...
Ideological war of the worlds,
eye to eye never seen,
the hatred between clearly drawn,
problems with peace to intervene,
the conflict as it unfolds,,
Coming as thieves of night,
armys on both sides comes,
fortifying and building societial walls,
truth and lies propaganda welcomes,
armored suited masses to fight,,
Emerges the lights of honor,
the independent class called defenders,
private elites of character gold,
the shadows behind all pretenders,
opperatives that's far more superior,,
Defenders are warriors of light,
core beliefs that's solely independent,
religiously organized they never follow,
thorns in a crowned tyrant,
independent wills of great might,,
They are why freedom thrives,
true leaders leading into tomorrow,
that govern by liberty's will
that invites everyone to follow,
founding fathers of our lives..
The sun was out this morning
But soon the R.A.I.N came and erased any ray of hope I had left
It committed theft
Of my virginity
Flooded and damaged my fertility
R.A.I.N. drops were falling on my head
My secret garden became a water bed
And growing within it
Was the clitoral swelling
That became a dwelling
For constant pain
And while Gene Kelly is singing in it
I’m crying from all the R.A.I.N.
I can’t stand these April showers
How can it bring May flowers?
But deflower me?
What have I done to deserve
Falling victim to the second nature
Of a worthless soul
I guess not realizing the devil could be so bold
When it was all said and done
All I could see was the RED blood between my thighs
That I unwillingly sacrificed
For the R.A.I.N. to stop
The ORANGE that represented my strength was slowly fading
The YELLOW became a brick road that I couldn’t ease on down
Because it was now blocked
I didn’t know how to get back to my sanity
I couldn’t see the GREEN in me that once represented my dreams
And like the BLUE in the oceans, skies and the heavens
I became distant
The INDIGO made me suddenly aware that
I could no longer trust anyone.
All my shame and sorrow
Was clad in VIOLET
Bright enough for the world to see
Feelings of hopelessness and insecurities
Were trapped inside the rainbow
The R.A.I.N. left behind
No lucky charms or pots of gold
I beg for the R.A.I.N. to stay away
But no matter how much I pray
It continues to pour on unsuspecting souls
Who ever saw the fires of hell would be able to attest
It’s burning from the centre to the peak;
All the mountains are covered with the heavens blanket
Where will i ever see a mountain this high?
Our buildings look so small;
How did this splendid art form
The olds call it the work of god
The pagan say it the power of nature
The face is wrinkle not of age but,
The burning tears of sorrow
I see swallows flying motionless
I look at the flowers that give its beauty
It’s beyond those plains where they walk tirelessly
Even the scorching sun has no effect
Evenings covered by strife in families
Nothing looks to be affecting the lilies
Neither the awls cannot complain
But to I it’s burning like scorching furnace
The tears that have made the face a playing ground
This is favour they are giving to the grief
These are tears of salts mix with despair.
I do not know?
has plagued my home.
I was treated
Like a toothless comb.
Brother has told me
I am not a man,
But I walked away
Before anything began.
He laughed and laughed
While I hung my head,
So I turned around
To fight him instead.
I took a shot
At his evil smile.
He moved. I missed
By near a mile.
As he threw me down
& stomped my face
Into the ground.
A funny feeling
Grew in my heart,
Like fungus in darkness.
I fell apart.
Has gone berserk.
This funny feeling
Forced a smirk.
I found joy
In hitting him back.
I began to laugh
With each attack.
Then I took him
By his throat,
Putting an end
To how he'd gloat.
I took his knife
& swung it near.
I made the blade
Was never so fun.
He shouldn't breathe.
He couldn't run.
My kind kin,
Freedom is near.
Only my sin
May murder your drear.
A beast with dark red eyes,
to give out fire burning lies,
a beast with such a hunting nose,
terrible stench where ever it goes.
A beast with teeth like jagged knives,
its mouth of saws taking lives,
a beast with horns like powerful steel,
when there is pain, it will not feel.
A beast with sharp and bloody claws,
its body of scales against all laws,
a beast with a swinging tail of spikes,
to stab through anything it likes.
A beast with wings to slice through air,
to fly and kill without a care,
a beast with death in its mind and heart,
from somewhere far and worlds apart.
I turned to the bottle because I'm a Cop.
I was a good Policeman but it had to stop.
I couldn't stand the crime and violence anymore.
It got to be something that I could not ignore.
A six year old kid was killed in the cross fire when a gang decided to attack.
I had to explain to his parents that their son got a big hole blown in his back.
I saw so many deaths that it became hard to even keep my meals down.
I could no longer tolerate the violence in this crime infested town.
I couldn't continue being a Cop, it was something I couldn't take.
It bothered me so much that every day my hands would shake.
My career as a Police Officer came to an end.
And sadly, the bottle became my best friend.
As I sit alone in this bar, the bartender is pouring me drinks.
Please don't be a Police Officer in this town, it really stinks.
(This is a fictional poem)
I put my hands around my wife's throat and I squeezed.
What disturbs me is that when she died, I was pleased.
When it came to having morals, I used to believe that I had some.
But every time I look in the mirror, I'm horrified to see what I've become.
My wife was so mean and she loved to provoke.
Life became intolerable every time she spoke.
She told me over and over how ugly and stupid that I am.
I snapped and killed her and now my soul has been damned.
I want to go to the Cops but they would lock me up for life, I would never again be free.
But that's only if I would get lucky, it's more likely that I would receive the death penalty.
When it came to my problems, she was the source.
If I hadn't snapped, I might have considered divorce.
As each day passed, that witch became even colder.
I'll spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder.
She was a horrible Human Being and she loved to annoy me.
I'll never stop fearing that the Cops are closing in and that will eventually destroy me.
(This is a fictional poem)
Anger rises like bile in my throat
It’s burning through my veins, squeezing my heart
A smile plays on your lips as you gloat
I must stop before I rip you apart
Sweet ecstasy of the rage controls me
It seeps in my mind, I tear through my skin
Smile gone, you see me, your worst enemy
Do not bother running, you will not win
The forbidden taste of fury so sweet
Again I warn you don’t bother running
You my prey are in for a special treat
You are fast but I am still more cunning
You’re no match for my monstrous bulk
Hear me roar, for i'm the untamed Silverstorm
And so do I fall, and so do I fail,
Falling so deeply into this destructive void,
Nothing but ash and specs of dust that were once my brittle bones and scarred flesh.
To not know what is ahead,
How maddening! How so distraught have I seemingly become,
Forgotten myself as time has smoothed over me.
Tricky, sly fiend indeed; master and slave a like to us all.
Do I dare move forward into the uncertainty that is humanity and of such society?
So gut wrenching, thoughts filled of bile at what is.
As we all are from and are the same, yet tear limb by limb the essence of ourselves by one another in an endless state of bigotry and violence; so brightly are we bathed in evil.
So easy is it to see.
Miracles; perhaps shall they see fit to carry me away from the void that is, and from such temptation, as to live the rest of days in blissful, stagnant dreams.
At the crossroads where the devil lurks behind the old, dying tree,
near the cotton plantations that mold green and grey with age
turn to relics of the brutal Southern past.
Hear the southern bell sing her sweet song
to her Negro runner, as she watches him turn and blow her a kiss goodnight,
a Romeo and Juliet love affair,
that stops at the crossroads of black and white.
Near those run-down shacks is where she hid him,
till the night came overhead,
and that dirt road is were they left together,
on a big, white stead to the North,
till a shotgun blast silenced the night,
and ended the love that flew sweaty in the air,
like the death of a mockingbird.
The Devil himself took a soul back down to hell,
and the crossroads painted red with hatred and pain.
Dead young lovers hand and hand,
a picture painted in southern heat
on a Monday morning in a black and white newspaper,
written in black and white,
that's all it was, two colors that go good together.
I do not know?
People sleep at night
I’m awake with fright
The voices tell me to do it
I don’t see them with a candle lit
I hear the voices in my head
you won’t believe what they said
they want me too hurt things
especially when i hear the dings
When i hear the things they are mad
they took all the memories i had
the happy ones anyway
no matter what i do they stay
They torcher me in so many ways
I never get a say
They tell me too hurt
Then i have to wear a long-sleeve shirt
When they tell me too cut
they tell me not too keep the door shut
they want me to get in trouble
but they won’t under all the ruble
they told me too hurt other things
if i don't i hear the dings
They got really mad
They made me really sad
When i get sad i have too hurt
but the voices always tend to lurk
I don’t drink.
I don’t smoke.
I am not destroying my lungs or liver.
I am cutting into my skin.
I am watching what I eat.
I am depressed, but I am not dying.
I do have an addiction.
I do have problems.
I am not asking you for help…
But… it is welcome with open arms…
If only you knew…
An impressionist’s pastel painting of the foe,
Releasing unheard sighs of a sinner’s woe,
Mere wisps of his charred and tainted soul,
His empty eyes resemble burning holes of eternal coal,
Seeing only deathly pale faces lined and worn,
While following an eerie voice full of spiteful scorn,
Leading him towards lost corners of insanity,
Where he’s bound to serve ‘til the death of eternity.
Eidolon creeps amongst the bonfires of hell,
Where wretched souls burn and spasm in this fiery cell,
Him, hidden in illusions his mind created the surreal,
Captured spirit behind solid bars of steel,
His timeless existence in oblivion and spoil,
Still climbing higher and higher, to where he lays,
Where Eidolon walks cloaked in sinful ways,
A cloak befouled and woven in sin:
A weeping widow’s rope-round-the-throat,
A drunkard’s drowned body a-float,
Greedy lord whom robbed the poorly,
A psycho who raped his first child, mercilessly,
Their damaged souls tarnish this cloak of sorrow.
(I know it isn't complete and it's kindda goosebump/nightmare material. Sorry about that.)
© Copyright All Rights Reserved
I do not know?
My dear sweet lover oh how I love the coldness of your soul and your wicked twisted heart.
You are a murderous outlaw with no goodness to speak of, but I love you.
Take my heart and burn it until only the ashes remain.
Set fire to me you mad man and kill my soul within.
Evil, yes you are so evil this is why I love you so.
Chain my hands and feet and throw me in the sea.
Please drown me with your love.
Call the sharks to come get me.
My greatest wish is to be eaten alive.
You wicked wicked man do tell me sweet lies, for no one can tell them like you do.
Say them softly in my ear my dear.
Lie to me and tell me that you love me too.
You are a fool with no feelings at all, but I want to be with you.
I know you need me, I just know that you do.
So look me in the eyes and tell me just how much you hate me.
Walk on me my beloved one with your steel toed leather boots and dig the spurs into my skin.
Oh how I love the pain...
These are not tears my dear for what reason do I have to cry?
Lower then dirt you are, but I am happy with you.
You would stab me in the back if you could, but you are the only one I can trust.
I would never leave you.
Brake my spirit like you would a wild horse.
Tie my feet together and drag me through the hot desert sand.
Tame me I want to be worthy of your love.
I am not afaid of the whip use it if you must.
Ugly and scarred is your face, but I think you are more handsome then any man.
Scar my face up as well so that I can look the way you do.
Mark me as your own.
Kill me in my sleep you might, but I will keep one eye open just in case.
You are my protector yet you are the predator.
Shall I run away or to you my love?
What a heartless man you are.
Hurt me and never let me go.
Oh how I love the coldness of your soul and your wicked twisted heart.
On the cusp of the night, forged by the steel of his will
Poised on the edge of forever, eternally still
Patient as time, as the yesteryears mark where he's been
Different from man, for the harrowing sights that he's seen
He once lived a life, full of promise and dreams as he grew
In a world where believing made everything real become true
Where a dance with the Devil destroyed everything in a night
And darkness prevailed, stripping all but a glimpse of the light
No man shall bow down to the filth that roam freely today
No woman nor child shall taste of the fear or dismay
The lost and the lonely a champion has chosen to serve
The weak and the weary shall have all the hope they deserve
The battle ensues every night, arson, murder and rape
As justice is dealt from behind the dark crusaders cape
Steeled by the resolve that injustice shall not be the way
No conscience, no remorse, no soft executioners stay
That which lies written in stone is etched there in blood
The conscience once felt as a child, washed away in a flood
Only truth paves a path to the future, let that be his tome
At the centre of hurt and corruption he's fashioned a home
A soul torn and lost evermore, in the blink of an eye
Bewildering fate taught a grieving young boy not to cry
Did destiny cause it to be - Or was it just that
The catalyst needed to transform a man into bat
Tortured by loss and regret through a cruel twist of fate
Carved a body and mind, that was tempered by vengeance and hate
Scales of injustice now measure the weight of our sins
In the instant that Bruce Wayne dies... then... BATMAN BEGINS
Landscape of Hiroshima about eight-thirty a.m. After the death angel Enola Gay turns away she gave birth to the little boy as fiery rolling smoke starts clearing Etched upon a wall a boy and girl playing with a ball Those there could not see it for their eyes were melted A city meshed with death blood iron and rock A three year old boy partially dripping skin cry’s for mom But a twelve year old girl looks unharmed but within days Poisoned by death’s light she withers away As you pull back from this horrific seen It only magnifies for a hundred thousand plus Stench smoldering flesh mingled with everything The land of sun lays beneath a blanket of death A city leveled by little boys fierce foul breath And then aftermath for years later Countless children die or are born defective
Thorns piercing through my heart while it's burning. Vines flowing out of my soul, and I look to the sky. Hallelujah, I'm alive. Hallelujah I'm whole.
Smoke of cigarettes flame out into the open. Feelings of charm and warmth pass across my lungs. I see twelve or more dwarfs marching in rows. One of them stepped on my toes.
Planes flying into the fog, and women being rapped in the alleys. The life we lead are lies, planned out like puppets from another dimension.
Time can't save us. We save time to save us. The sun goes down, and everything is quiet. Birds chirping, and the wind blowing white snowflakes onto my face.
Walking passed the church. Blood on White. Everything's a fight. We rise to the golden gates and we look upon the spirits.
The leaders and missions fail. It's not the end of this tale, when soon there will be more blood shed. Anger and hatred have no room. Live the life you are born to lead, or you will just be another blood on white.
I do not know?
Blood stained eyes
Gaze upon innocents sleeping form,
Spoils the promise of blissful slumber
As naive eyes twitch with dreams
Of purity and grace
Guides twisted hands
Towards violent deeds
Warm sweet breath
Exhales from un-kissed lips,
Wet with remembrance and anticipation
Of life’s wonders yet to be lived
From now waken eyes,
As an incestuous destruction
Of one’s self is committed
And the very soul of god
Is ripped from the now ruined vessel
Of what was once,
Innocent’s sleeping form.
I was ordered to travel to Mars.
I enjoy traveling among the stars.
When some people on Mars tried to open a gateway to Earth, they accidentally opened a gateway to Hell.
Many demons came through the gateway and many soldiers tried to stop them but they were bound to fail.
The demons killed the humans and turned them into zombies.
Now I have to kill them all before they get the chance to kill me.
I have to kill Imps, Cacodemons, Spiderdemons and Barons of Hell.
Sometimes I also come across Cyberdemons and I kill them as well.
When I come across a locked door, I have to find a key to unlock it.
A Cyberdemon is chasing me and it's trying to kill me by firing rockets.
I just used my rocket launcher to turn it into goo.
Every demon and zombie will be dead when I'm through.
A shotgun, plasma gun, chainsaw and other weapons are what I have to find.
I hope the demons don't somehow get to Earth or it will be the end of mankind.
By some miracle I've destroyed all of the demons and the zombies as well.
I was able to complete my mission and I thank God that I didn't fail.
(This poem is based on the popular video game that was created by Id Software.)
I want to fight.
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
im tired of holding this inside me.
the wolf inside howls with pain.
howls with longing.
howls with rage.
I want to punch the walls.
break the windows.
throw away the memories.
where is my voice?
where is my strength?
where is the air?
I growl with frustration at the one who keeps getting in between me and my love.
I claw with confusion, not knowing what to do.
I howl with rage at the one who wont leave me alone.
I breath with sadness for not knowing how to let my love know shes the only one.
i refuse to contain it any longer.
save yourself precious beast,
show your rage.
show your grief.
Dedicated to the one who cant leave well enough alone.
Misery Laid Upon Soft Kindled Pine
The great Judge marks this hour at noon
bright was this day in month of June
A kinship richly felt with wooded glen
saddened by the evil in hearts of men
A fierce battle for land was fought
death reigned supreme all for naught
Blood splashed upon the limbs and leaves
sorrow grips as each family grieves
Dead feel not the heat of burning Sun
no real glory felt by those that won
Misery laid upon softly kindled pine
vultures fly waiting to come to dine
The carnage shook the stars on high
time not given from sweet good-byes
An unwelcome breeze stings this land
all for naught, but evil in death's hand
The great Judge marks this day of pain
as tears fall ,victims lay in dashing rain
A new day awaits the glory of hope sent
forgiveness for the wasted lives spent
June birds now flitter, renewing song
lives so saddened move right on along
Human spirit always racing to survive
rarely embracing joy of just being alive
Returning Sun shines upon life and all
man's fate is to live then greatly fall
Other journeys await in mystical realms
so many great ships, captains and helms
09, 15, 1977
note: I have little memory of why I wrote this one
back then. Perhaps a book I read, movie I watched
or blues that wrapped me so often during that time.
As he walked,
The root of all evil was indeed marinating deep within him,
A natural seasoning,
A cue for treason,
Short side of critical reasoning,
His attire was outfitted for any season,
His shoes covered many miles,
He supressed plenty smiles,
The eradication of the same breath he enjoys
dazzles his need to cause
pain and suffering.
He likes to be the Big Bad Wolf,
Follows his prey and performs a Houdini act,
Dangerous is an understatement,
Violence and cruelty is the aftermath,
He doesn’t know any better,
Desensitization at its finest,
He takes pride in adding the minus,
He takes pride in fulfilling his addiction to adding the minus.
Arm deals and more arm deals, that's all I see.
Calibres change, the type of artillery
Changes, the game players grey and go and
Are replaced by darker capillary
With greater thirst for bleeding enemy
And with more dangerous artillery.
Deadly toys in the hands of eager youth,
Intended for warding off intruders:
Scaring them with heaps of artillery
So that they would harder prepare soldiers
If the should covet and desire to loot.
In their minds they have peace in their brooders.
But to brood over unused firepower
While only playing with blanks on dummies
Kindles unquiet thirst only blood can quench
Kills empathy for sonless war mummies,
And in blasts of gun smoke the youth's flower
Drowns its thirst in the thud of fall'n bodies.
heavy metal horses on bloody battle hooves
stampeding serenity underneath their raw and ruthless rules
with red eyes burning bright, fire shooting through their nostrils
they burn like asteroids and the heat is coming hostile
with sadists in their saddles the horses they get madder
expanding is their evil as the world is getting sadder
sharp spurs stuck in their flesh...world around all seems redder
crush the weak under their hooves bringing millions to their deaths
black and blue they run together seeking all they can destroy
dropping corpses and cadavers like a twisted childs toy
whipped like slaves in cold dark caves hate horses go into a frenzy
and the victims of their violence are like stars and sand in iron hands...
countless and too many
their coming sounds like thunder
their hate like hurricanes
their thoughts are just like twisters that keep them full of rage
cages now corroded
iron bars they bend and break
and prison walls that kept them in they fall under the weight
they gallop now through gardens where serpents play their games
they gallop now through ghetto streets leaving carnage filled crime scenes
they gallop through rich neighborhoods devistaing all they can
they rob,they steal,they cut,they kill,the heart and soul of man
but believers call the father when they fill that dark horizon
they stand and face those horses of hate even when the beast is rising
with vulgarness and violence the horses curse the truth
but when God puts His holy hands on them...
horses of hate turn into rivers of glue
On The Beach
Imagine walking on a beach after you finish school. Enjoying time alone. Happy that your studies are going well. In your own little world. Then they come for you. Snatch you off the beach. Take you to their boat and kidnap you. You've never been so scared. Not knowing what's happening or why. Little do you know, you won't see Japan again. Enemy soldiers came for someone. They found you. They need Japanese citizens to teach spies the language. But you don't want to do this. You go crazy. Not in anger but mentally. Your 'life' there doesn't work out. Your fate is bad. 'Suicide' by drug overdose. Your body thrown into a pit with others. A terrible fate. North Korea did this to you. And to many more who are missing.
The Garden of Gethsemane
While Jesus was on earth, all creation felt His presence
and for a short interval of time, it breathed a sigh of relief,
for the Creator of Heaven and Earth had come into its view
and for Him to impart of His perfect peace.
But in the stillness of the night, somehow it seemed
the grass beneath His feet began to shudder and the trees quaked with terrifying fear,
for all creation was entwined with Him in great turmoil
while their Master shed great drops of blood and tears.
There were myriads of angels that came and went
in these moments ministering to the Bishop of our soul,
and the devil tried with all his might to kill Him there
but the Master of His life would not let go.
At one point of time when the trial was so intense
He cried, “Father if it be Thy will, from Me let this cup pass”,
but then He added, “Not My will, Father, but Thine be done”
and the Father gave Him the strength to last.
So He continued on His journey with added strength
for the joy set before Him and this is also what each of us must do,
fixing our eyes on the Master of Glory and what He has prepared
up in Heaven for me and for you.
We all have our “Gethsemane” moments in this life
though for certain not as severe as His,
because He paid the greatest of price for His dear children
so with Him we could eternally live.
And now, as I reflect upon Your agony sweet Jesus and in
that garden how You suffered so tremendously for me,
I gratefully come to this conclusion, my Lord
help me to follow You and finish my course no matter what the price might be.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
The scars on her wrist
marked the passage of time
in her forgone life
where depression captured
and wouldn't let go
you examine the place
where she transferred her pain
only still hurting in the same place
no more tears
no more marks
the depression strangled
the pain gone away
she's turned a new page
onto another day
The lust in his eyes
was no surprise
I was beautiful
I only wish
I wasn't his to hold
his lustful intentions
or better yet report him
only rape culture
ours not his