The towering mountains of menacing fanaticism and
in the midst of the shadows of constant fear,
Desperately, is crawling in search of
The trail of understanding,
That it would lead her onto the valley of God-loving
Where the peoples of the world, respecting the beliefs of
Others, in harmony would live,
Glorifying God’s wisdom which saved them, from falling
Into the ravines of voracious hate where Man's
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 JANUARY 2015
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015
I have died so long ago.
The pieces of my bones were buried in Sheol.
It was so dark where I lay now.
My flesh is rotten and almost gone.
I have lived once in this world,
Where a loving family I was involved.
A dearest mom who loved me so,
Loving siblings I treasured most!
I'm a free-spirited young lady.
I love to entertain the world,
Wind hums as I hit the notes.
The nature became my hidden world.
I was once a fruit in a tree.
Until one day, a harvester picked me.
Still unripe, too young and fresh.
He stole my innocence.
Too many years past and my seed grew.
I have started bearring fruits.
But the harvester did not content,
He pulled me out from where I'd been.
He murdered me on one darkest night.
Then buried me beneath the ground.
I'm so helpless, no voice to shout!
My breath is counting one by one.
Until I surrendered the last air in my lungs.
I have died so long ago.
This girl that you used to know,
Isn't the one who writes a poem.
She had died so long ago.
She walks every night to find her home.
Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014
She is, exactly what he wanted to see
His erotic fantasy
Every teenage boys playboy bunny dream
Look at how you come onto me
Lost, destroyed soul is all i will ever see
U disgust the innermost,
deepest feelings in me
She is the beauty queen
The one from your dreams
She doesn't even look like she bleeds
Imagine how she screams...
Perfect without a flaw
Take her on the wall
Have her spread all over the floor
Dont even close the door
Look at what you all came here for
Destroy her pride
Till shes got nowhere left to hide
Give her your might once more
Until she cannot take it anymore
Look into the eyes of all your lies
Realize every hurt you've given in your life
This is your whore
& now shes all bloody and sore
The same girl next door,
that u begged for more
You've burnt your soul to the core
A deed done
With blood on your hands
Listen, to your screaming fans
Shes just one of those,
that you used to love
You stole all her fairy dust
and turned it into lust.
Copyright © Dani Elle | Year Posted 2014
This times, you would receive the two things from others.
Violence or grace.
Jealousy to your success,
And grace to your failure.
So, you should not be sad.
Survival is meaningless with grace.
You are the king or queen of love.
Try to distribute your love.
Don't want to see yourself as the beggar of love.
One day, future of mankind will be written with your love.
You will become history.
(The poem is dedicated to my favorite poet Charmaine Chircop.)
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2015
One day, you'll be dead to me
My life is a hazard to everyone
My desperate detestation for you
The way you are
What you do
How you breath
My hatred for you is an endless pit
Of Hell and dark memories
The heart inside my weeping chest
is sewn in grotesque shades of purple
and its all your fault
You're a beautiful creature
of misery and despair
the painful tears you shed
slowly pull up the corners of my lying mouth
to my sweet, innocent ears
I want your head on a stake
bloodied scissors in your chest
your blood in a jar
You disgust me
the twinkle in your eyes is a knife to my neck
soon to be turned on you
cutting out every bleeding piece
of your perfect soul
One day you'll be nothing more
then a crying, screaming memory
a haunting melody that plagues my sorry heart
My love for you is a complete lie.
Copyright © Jessie Rae | Year Posted 2015
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…
Copyright © Zeki Majed | Year Posted 2013
Elegy to Child Lost
Passion's love oft tempts despair
Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
Babe snug beneath a mother's breast
Senses at this time are keen
There's no secret kept between
Loving mother, wriggling babe--
Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
But entwined twin was also loved--
Some say Nature's method proves
That one twin may give all to mate---
But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.
Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
or sense those legs that wandered miles
And daring feet that danced in tunes while
Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.
When babe vanished--not a sound.
Mother 's grief was not allowed.
Tempted so to trail behind
Escaping shattered troubled mind.
Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
Never spoke of-- never mourned.
By her husband she was warned
Was best forget a child so early lost--
Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--
But the years have called babe near,
Mother's journal writ in tears:
'Please forgive my selfish heart.
Repressed from all --this tragic part
I felt your sacrificial act--
You left your cherished twin intact'.
There is no law of random acts
Doctors examine data facts
It may be --that in the womb
When both spring flowers cannot bloom
One bold twin refrains to eat
Compels the other to complete
Hardy growth that life requires---
Sparks survival's crucial hours.
Not an accident 'tis sure--
Boldest spirits blossom pure.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop | Year Posted 2012
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.
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
blood pouring forth . . . red
yelling . . . hate r a d i a t i n g
shooting, dying . . . why
“A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentations . . . “ Jeremiah
“. . . so much weeping! Such a burden of lamentation! I will not gloss over the terrible pain and sorrow that comes from vanity and anger, but neither will I forget the final word of resurrection. “ Eugene Petersen
Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2015
She hid behind veil
The umbrella her armor
Her last kiss
In heaven I adore
I shed tears
At my widows pain
I go insanely insane
Weep in the dark
No one finds, eaten by sharks
Snow drops reliving
The survivor’s pain
As she walks down her rue of memories
Umbrella shielding her tormented face
Embracing the coldness, embracing lost fate
Teardrops wipe the history from her case
We never existed us two
When I died under enemy plans
My lover had to flee her fathers land
No one is safe at Palestinian hands
Hatred buried so deep
Hamas bloody knifes never sleep
Child and foe, kill them for the goal
My lover is dead, Arabic beauties lost soul
Israel is the Promised Land
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
Kissing, touching, tasting
Bodies, lips, teeth, claws
Snarling, ripping, tearing
“ A poem in diamanté form”
Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015
When I was called little brother,
It meant I have an elder sibling.
One from whom I could learn,
Between Light and Dark.
What about the Grey?
Only a few would about the grey;
Would even begin to aspire,
Is grey the divider?
What is a divider?
In essence a carrier,
Of both dark and Light;
Having both thane sight!
The grey is never contrite,
It does and will do on sight!!!
Come with your purported might!
Unseen seen chaos,
These are my instruments,
Will be eaten as sacrements.
For continual human growth within,
Mistakes rectified by the elder or role model;
Taught the current crop must be,
Lessons are as seeds;;;
Planted into our mother,
Blending with Earth, Water and Sun,
The seed transmutes and soon the seed has had its fun,
A plant is now the end product.
We humans are also ever transforming,
Perhaps not as apparent as natural beauty forming,
But what is natural beauty?
What is beauty?
Random randominity is beauty natural,
Random beauty is natural randominity,
Natural randominity is random beauty,
Beautiful randominity randoms naturally,
Not an over-spill,
Understanding and comprehension,
The trick however is to pass on that understanding and comprehension.
But how do you do that?
When most of the generation is tuned to the Playstation!
Violent games evocating the continuation
Of our disgusting violent nation.
Perhaps attempt to not scold or tell;
Allow thane actions to speak wonders,
As an undiscovered well.
Keep the resonance of thane bell,
Perhaps another revolutionary,
Your prodige has to be selectant,
Of his student, his confectionary.
Without this passing down of knowledge,
We all might as well eat the most poisonous berry.
Copyright © Chad Greef | Year Posted 2013
Do tell me!
When he is out on a
I will leave in twilight
And reach there
In late night.
We will hurried and
Deep and long kisses
In damp moonlight
Of the early spring.
Then as an ancient
I will run holding
hard to my chest
Your body of gold
Stumbling with the
Climbing the fences
Jumping over the
thorns and shrubs
To the remote
By the dense forest.
And as an ape-man
had picked a
And held her as his
woman for some six
We will sex whole
days in the den
And in the nights
In the bushy pasture.
I will pull your brown
curly hair doggy
And slap your thick
And, you will moan in
gratification loud and
As a witch in a wild
place practicing craft
Or a whale in sea at
Copyright © fayaz bhat | Year Posted 2014
A vignette of domestic violence and the weird rationale of love amidst such
circumstances - adapted from how it was depicted to me by a female friend and
taken from her own personal experience.
I was defined china and porcelain,
Inlaid glass flowers and gently spoken;
Fragile in doe-eyed delicacy,
Pleading and begging not to be broken.
I loved him with total forgiveness,
Did not, could not, would not understand
The dark chaos mood of lability,
The spontaneous violence of his hand.
Blue and black bruises indecorously swelled
Question marks about tear brimmed eyes;
And I wept and despaired in confusion,
Smashed and grabbed by wherefores and whys.
How could he dream to hurt me so,
The brutish malediction of his touch?
How could he stand to hurt me so,
When he knew I loved him so much?
And now the years have drained away
Like sweeping veils of rain;
The agony of our breaking apart
Ever haunts me with anguish and pain.
I still see him some times,
Rarely, truly out of the blue,
On the old territory of familiar streets
When unconsciously passing through.
And always shook by the stalking truth,
A lancing bright-bladed knife,
And with dogmatic aching my heart lets me know
He was always the love of my life.
And I know there's no sense to be had
When I look to the heavens above,
Just the sad and lonely heart of the matter:
You never can choose whom to love.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
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
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
I'm so confused,
raised to believe cooperative love overpowers competing fears
about scarcity of time,
and other resources,
and anger about past over- and under-valuing of myself
as a regenerative resource,
raised to believe the Golden Rule
is most effectively applied to all life,
as cooperative ecologically regenerative potential,
I don't see how it could be OK
to run a national political campaign
assuming I will confuse the taking of life for nutritional needs
as less just than the taking of life for punishment and retributive needs,
death-debt owed for death-taken,
as if it were possible to kill
disenculturing clans of terrorists
for each and every innocent life taken
with such unholy cynicism as anti-life hopeless degenerates.
I find this violence-begets-violence nowhere else
in any ecosystem,
anything that could possibly be called a sustainable system,
in any form of nature,
other than humane nature as de-natured humanity.
However, now that I think of it,
perhaps we do see something of its kind
in diseased and over-crowded populations,
literally eating their young.
We often call this "rabidity",
swarming in a monocultural snarl,
turn on each other
begin unprovoked cannibalism,
prey on each other,
perhaps as a form of punishment or retribution
for past angers and fears only these terrorist champions of chaos
a mounting prescient culture of mutual disregard and antipathy,
trending toward Lose-Lose sociopolitical economic and ecological
is it wise to sanction violence to be perpetrated by others
on our behalf,
at any scale,
for any reason?
How is abuse and neglect of death-producing miscreants
for a person who believes in the power of cooperative love
as a more effective Golden Rule
than "Beat Others down before they Win more than you"?
Does this intend to include anything but monocultural AnthroCentric overcrowding, more violence,
trending toward decomposition of all Earth's systems?
Am I to invest
in a competing human race
or a humanizing regenerate space and time?
Or, is it something MidWay between,
sometimes competing anger and fear might be Teachers,
although still not the best choice-makers.
Perhaps we could leave cooperative balancing
of Tipping Point decomposition
and analysis of therapeutic/toxic trends,
within exclusive charge of CoArising Love as Golden Rule choice-making;
choosing whether or not to disinvest in regenerative health potential values of a life,
or a biosystem,
to optimally invest in Earth's regenerating health and vitality.
Yet, Earth does not necessarily
always and at all times,
water humane flowers
to starve the weeds.
More often, weeds starve flowers of water
as Crusading Christians starved diversity of intelligence
through violent ex-communication.
So, if these interdependently organic
between and within individuals,
families of weeds,
tribes of flowers,
nations and planets,
and the ecobalance of co-arising space with time
are what we seem to love,
then why do we suboptimize with Win-Lose economic and political choices
to compete with each other
sense of vocational value,
for power to declare war on each other,
the right to abuse and neglect and ex-communicate each other,
as if Earth's evolutionary journey
is not historically rooted
in cooperative regenerate enculturation,
as any of life's surviving cells
could quickly attest,
even under threat of ex-communication.
It is difficult for me to find any faith
or even hope
in the belief that Earth produced this humanizing race
toward degenerating dissonance
and overly-competitive Win to Lose strategies
of Left-brain cultural and language
and political and economic
It feels less confusing to me
to comprehend we are ecoconsciously co-loving each other
in a rapidly overpopulating monocultural species
with humane researching and incubating
emergently embryonic cooperative aspirations
to optimize WorldWide Win-Win ecosystemic networks,
to balance Left with Right mindbody co-mentoring intelligence,
harmonizing all our bicameral systemic information,
issuing inductive from Heaven's TransParent Cloud
and deductive from Earth's RNA icons
of recreating intelligence,
form with nondual co-arising cooperative function,
noun as verb,
poly-goal as perma-path,
and harmonic-octave frequencies
in 4-square Prime Sequential Relationship,
both Time's co-gravitating with Space's thermodynamic balance,
Yang OVER yin-squared = c-squared ecoconsciousness
of Universal TransParent (0) Metric Light Balance.
Perhaps, then, it is less confusing to me
to think about how to invest more wisely
in non-violent empathy of Basic Attendance
to notice and listen with still-centered mindbody,
empathically absorbing claustrophobic fear and anger
saturating toxic terror that my life,
therefore your life,
has no ego-intrinsic value
because LeftEgo is too dissonantly dominant
over Right EcoEarth Regenerational Analogic
CoEmpathic Arising Function,
so my death, therefore your death,
has no Earth-intrinsic regenerative value or disvalue.
From this position
I cannot see Allah as ReGenerator Power and Flow,
Form with NatureFunction,
Love with Synergetic Intent,
TransParent Empathic Elational Present
Concave HomePlace within Convex healthCulture
through Time's bilaterally co-gravitating eco-normative lens.
How is any directive to starve and/or neglect and/or kill
not what Christians have known as ex-communication
Dissonance struggling against dissonance,
when we could choose to emerge mutually-resonant regenerators,
re-communicative poly-empathic optimizers,
co-mentoring Earth-regenerate soil
reforesting our rivers for clean water,
repurposing mutual immunity
as mutual subsidiarity within
These three held together into perpetuity,
Earth Tribal ReSolution.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015
I took a rich man’s wallet
So that we would not starve
I’m sure the lord has forgiven me
But the judge he surely did not.
He spared me from the gallows
But sent me across the sea
Away from family and friends
And away from you sweet Molly
I could see you standing on the dock in the rain
As the ship lurched out in the mist
And I wondered sweet Molly would I ever again
Hear your laughter or feel your sweet kiss.
Well terrible fortune befell us
On that awful disease ridden ship
And brutes were the crew and the guards
Who beat us with fists and with whip.
And the wind howled and the seas rose
And many were washed overboard
And illness, storms and starvation
Were sent upon us by the lord
And gradually everyone perished
But somehow I seemed to survive
Until somehow I made it to Botany Bay
The only soul left alive.
I joined a prison gang Molly
And hard to work we went
They gave me a chisel and barrow
And told me to go and carve steps
From a mountain made out of rock
On a path that led to nowhere.
No food or drink did they give us
I feel that they wished we would die
Well their wish came true sweet Molly
As the men started dropping like flies.
The sun burned my face and my arms
As I hammered away at the stone
And when the rains finally came
They soaked us through to our bones
Then a flash flood swept the others away
And left me there all on my own.
Well my life was hard to be sure
But again I seemed to survive
And I finally made it back to the camp
The only soul left alive.
They all were surprised to see me
They clapped my back and shook my hand
They said we must throw a party
For the luckiest man in the land
Well a grand party it was
Under a night of starry skies
The officers all were so drunk
That they started dropping like flies
And in the morning the soldiers found me grinning
Twenty dead officers, two blood stained knives.
Holy Christ said the men as they clapped me in irons
He’s the only soul left alive!
So now I finally face the gallows Molly
And there are no more lies left for me
What I couldn’t eat of the men on the ship
I threw the remains to the sea
What I couldn’t eat of the men on the mountain
I buried among the trees
The drunken officers deserved all they got
So Molly my conscience is clear.
My only regret dear Molly
The only thing that causes me pain
Is knowing that I shall never
See your sweet face again.
Copyright © Bryn Roberts | Year Posted 2015
He gathers all flowers he sees to show off his romance.
He chops all trees he faces to show off his masculinity.
He gayly spits out a lump of saliva to show off his coolness.
He leaves traces of money wherever he goes to show off his richness.
He sings everyday, every moment to show off his persistency and passion.
But she doesn't stare into his eyes
with admiration nor satisfaction nor true desire.
Her eyes are a pair of story tellers, without a tint of a lier.
They only speak the truth, insulting the man with a harsh glare.
This time, his simple-mindedness carries him away.
His lack of mind demonizes his very heart and bones of his soul,
Snapping at once like a monster, existing as a deleterious being.
He goes mad, killing hundreds, thousands, millions, thirsty for a genuine love,
only waiting for to see a swarm of oozing blood waves gushing in and out of his lungs.
He cannot cope with this madness,
His responsibility he has once established.
At last, he cuts his breath with an undeniable slash with his double edged sword,
chanting a regretful cry out of his body until the silence takes over his surrounding.
Copyright © Andrew Park | Year Posted 2016
The roaring bull
enters the arena;
clouds of dust raise.
Then the slender matador
in tight attire arrives;
he has no knowledge
of who is watching.
The prettiest girl
in traditional dress
has set eyes on him;
her posture is elegant.
A red flower in her dark hair
suggests an inflamed passion.
It's a scorching day
in Madrid; the fan she holds
does little or nothing
to keep her cool.
Thoughts in their minds
contradict; she's the admirer
from the balcony.
He is the fighter in the arena.
He must kill that bull
to win her; fierce are his looks
while his hands keep on fanning
the red cloth to gain control.
He can't lose this fight;
he must win at any cost.
It's a battle of strength and pride;
man against animal.
Ah, the bull succumbs to injury...
maestro grabs his horns and claims victory!
" O Matador, my matador...
you are the bravest one in all Spain! "
Stretching her arms.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
every Love day
What's meant to return
Copyright © Jack Kenny | Year Posted 2009
As loving you no longer lingers,
Against my hand of broken fingers
Of which I've washed the Past away
(The second skin I've shed today!)
To block, to shield, to guard- protect!
But will it last the length to trek?
I'll run right and you leap left,
Our rendezvous to be discreet
Forward, backward we progress-
And in the middle we will meet
*based partly on a lover's spat and a Radiohead song ;)
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
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
Copyright © Kalee Robertson | Year Posted 2013
A woman walked up to me asking, “Is there anything I could do for my black eye?” I stood there for a moment, “Well…” There wasn’t much that I could tell her to do besides letting it heal knowing that time is and forever will be against us and pain just slows the process.
She stated,” It has me feeling…” I was puzzled looking into her eyes, I asked,” Feeling what?” Noticing a black line under her left eye and the right slightly bruised.
She continued, “I’ve chosen certain things in my life and I don’t understand why, crying doesn’t help my heart from hurting. Unable to remove scars you know, from my heart. The pain to real sometimes and I’m blinded, look at my eyes. Scared by tears and a hand that I once kissed. My protector, the man I thought that shown genuine love, turned on me and without second thoughts. As he hit me…I played back the moments in which he said he loved me, kissing me daily telling me how much he misses me. Love made gave us a beautiful daughter in which I can’t explain to her when she asks, “Where daddy?” I have no more fear because it’s passed that, I’m broken. Make up and shades does not cover how he made me feel with his hands around my neck, and I still can’t tell you what I’ve done wrong besides loving him. Was it enough? Verbal aggression rose to another level because I took it for years, because you know what they say about love?”
She paused, shaking her head…” So my black eyes, bruised skin and broken heart, what can I do?”
I stated,” Time…” As she walked away.
Copyright © Noble Smalls | Year Posted 2014
You spoke of Love in the kingdom to come
Where the works of hatred would be undone
you bid your disciples to follow whats true
to demonstrate its power in the actions they do
But I have seen injustice
In the congregations of God
they have castigated children
with verbal tirades they did flog
committed vicious slander
and the innocent threw away
refused to hear their lack of justice
and those who tell the truth they slay
But these actions are not hidden
from our King God has given throne
those of us who’ve seen it
our thoughts to him have shown
His retribution will not linger
with his army he arrives
expose he will oppressors
those who cover deceit with lies
They profess to be disciples
of the Christ and Father Jah
but the errors of injustice
have trespassed the Love that’s law
Into the sanctuary
I have sent this word
that like prayers of incense
their cries and tears be heard
At the house of God there’s punishment
until true mercy we can learn
willing to investigate the truth
and its advocates not spurn
You have practiced Law and Judgment
the child of God you did not see
you interpreted the scriptures
and pronounced his children unworthy
I have trouble understanding
those who lift your eulogy
so easily destroy their kin
blame not themselves as ungodly
Its always someone else’s fault
not the things you did or say
you couldn’t possibly be the reason
that from the “truth” they walked away
When you stand before the throne of God
will they judge your actions clean
all the thoughts that you committed
will prove you kind or mean
I can only say to you
I saw your justice taken away
my own afflictions and slander
paralyzed my voice that day
Even now to late in time
their judgments I do fear
they’ve spent their time convincing me
my perception is not clear
But I have spent my time
considering the instructions in your word
their placement in my heart and mind
and my pen has proved I’ve heard
to those youths I’m still connected
you’ve remained in mind and heart
I’ve considered what you experienced
and I know it’s origins start
Not all of us who worship truth
will condemn your walk away
those who expose their heartlessness
before the throne will pay
I only hope you remember
those of us who cherished you
If I could manipulate nature
none these things would you go through
I want you to remember
that’s whats broken and with flaw
have difficulty executing
the perfection of cosmic law
I hope to see you in the future
when you’ve considered my digress
what you’ve experienced in life
is very difficult to digest
The things that connect us
are more than human skin
together we are the children
of the parents who gave us sin
This is my apology
for you whom I could not defend
I was suffering my own afflictions
which prevented my love to mend
I have failed far to many
and on others can lay no blame
unlike the power that controls the cosmos
my limitations physics name
My complaints here I have spoken
but the threads of them are true
they are laid before the throne of justice
and our God and Christ will see them through
Choose to invest in excellence
but these are traits that you must learn
to humans they come not natural
your inclinations they will confirm
From your introduction I have loved you
and to my thoughts have given voice
but your own road you must travel
and free will is yours of choice
Only one thing can fill whats hollow
a majestic gift from Christ and God
that we “learn” to love each other
correct the inherited things and flawed
Self justification (self rightousness) is a peculiar
trait among mankind ….and is significantly
emboldened when applying law and tradition
and distinctly visible among those who “practice”
religion , instead of “following the truth” like a
detective …….outside appearances can be so
deceiving, whats hidden and out of visions
range the guilty are not just catholic and protestant
those who abuse the truth have always sat
right among Gods own chosen people ….
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2014
When the silence of Violence is here; we know that God is near. Everyone’s fear will disappear; When we find the love that God hold’s dear. He touched the world with his heart; Now it’s time for a new start. Let the Silence of violence stand so that we can protect our land. Thank God that we are finally here to share the love that God holds dear. Lets bring back the hope that God believes in the most. With Peace in the world we would all be priceless pearls. Lets love not fight; Lets show our children how God can make everything alright. Love thy neighbor and thy friend, we will all be blessed in thee end. Violence free is what I want the world to be. Violence free will start a New History. If we lead by example our children will be the perfect sample; Of what life could be if our world is Violence Free. So let’s Silence The Violence for a PEACEFUL ENVIROMENT and let’s Silence The Violence for God’s SPIRITUAL GUIDENCE. Bless our City for we need GOD not GUNS. God Bless our City for we have Won. VICTORY OVER VIOLENCE is what I see for a happy and SAFE COMMUNITY.
Copyright © SONYA ARRINGTON | Year Posted 2012
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
Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
I have no want to help in technical progression.
With 6 billion and counting. Let someone else do it.
I have no stride to conquer the universe.
This world is our home.
With endless areas to know on your own.
Without their help.
Three lives open this door.
And no matter what.
Only one of those three will truly close it.
And I do not even curtsy the thought
of seeing anyone of you there.
When I get to tomorrow.
A priceless restitution.
For a fingerprint journey of, actually, desolution.
Its not mad, prince.
Or sad, princess.
Fate is a fable.
Your life is not a story.
Billions of invisible hands. Like any farmers field.
Holding on to a bar with weird engravings
Etched into it.
All of the answers are in the palm of your hands.
If only our eyes could read them. Plucked.
Oh if only we hadn't been fixed.
The garden is very much here.
But when the mother passes out.
And you are separated in concerns for your health.
You are secretly given the deserts map.
Of only left turns forever a turn is coming ahead.
There is not nature living with us here.
In the place that we are in.
That is not comfort that you are feeling within.
Its the god of mirage. Leaving us staring blank-less.
Into a corner of black. Not darkness.
Well! My gums play a gymnast.
My teeth reverse the up and down!
Why not eat your own flesh, indulge in yourself.
Just on the very edge of the desert bashes
a soundproof completed tsunami ocean.
Where men have always succumbed.
Too terrified to go on with exploration.
There is more than this
Your soul is a great dance.
Not a history lesson.
Copyright © or dallas | Year Posted 2014
I love your smile I love your witty charm
I'll never forget when you broke my arm
I adore your walk and the way you talk
You always said I'd be the one you stalk
I cherish your humor and you dance well
Since I've met you life's been a living hell
I love your eyes and your great sense of style
The things you tell me are so very vile
"He's no good for you" I heard from a friend
I keep praying for the abuse to end
When we started dating it was so grand
Why did you ever have to raise your hand?
I wish I didn't feel you're my soul mate
There is a fine line between love and hate
Copyright © Dana Christou | Year Posted 2015
He said, "You're my sweet baby-love."
I basked in warm romance.
"You're my sweet baby too," I said.
"My heart does sing and dance."
Last night we were out on the town.
I made quite sure he saw
me flirting with some handsome men.
That's not against the law!
"You know they're only friends," I whined.
He grabbed me by the arm.
His face became a mask of rage,
but still I feared no harm.
At last he smiled and said to me,
"You are my baby, still!"
We've played this game so many times.
We fight, then woo--a thrill.
I've always felt that it's okay
to push his buttons. He
will push mine too. It's what we do.
Excitement--that's the key!
Though he's come close to hitting me
and sometimes I punch him,
we know just where to draw the line.
We'd never act on whim!!
Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016
"Anyone who wants to fight me all the time"
committee meetings, board meetings.
Facing death was how they knew they were alive
or was it more about allocating resources
like yr Dad said.
It's hard to step outside what yr DNA tells you to do.
Family farm, fight club. It's all one yet distinctions are
what separates the librarian, reflective man, from the road and bridge
That's a class statement. Us guys love
our children and will, circumstances dictating, fight for you.
* * *
"Anyone who wants to fight me all the time"
is more important to me than my wife. But there is no one left to fight
and no one knows me and I know no one well. That's good,
"there is more space between people than I'd ever dared to hope."
Meditator or gunfighter. Either could come to know himself,
flat abs, clear sight
with patience and discipline.
Once yr knee or neck is smashed there's no getting up to fight.
* * *
"Anyone who wants to fight me all the time"
will grow old alone once I'm in the ground. He will live
with the question what was our purpose? He was managed by
the molecules we're made of, proteins, enzymes, amino acids, DNA.
I'd rather be a rock.
But the rock is subject to
its elements. Thus, the periodic table and particle physics,
meiosis and mitosis and yes, democracy and self-governance,
all the colors of anthropology and ecology, windmills and sundials,
fission and fusion for evil and light
and the devil who exists to carry the load when we misbehave and fight
* * *
"Anyone who wants to fight me all the time"
is how I know who I am.
Because the truth is always changing, depending on the meeting.
Service to others is a safe bet. That service
may take many forms: fighting, meeting, teaching, making.
The fighting may be part of holding community together. Limited scope,
"How broadly we define community says everything." So,
we come to Mexico, a violent border and an unhappy history.
Or Gaza and Israel. Or Russia and just about everybody.
"How can a people become a nation without resorting to violence or
incurring violent reaction?"
Does it matter? Accept violence like any EMT and devote yourself to
Why do I write about violence, I've almost never
had to fight.
* * *
"Anyone who wants to fight me all the time"
is nothing compared to the ocean which can take your children any time.
The Nazis or janjaweed.
In peace we have our meetings.
"When violence comes to the neighborhood the hierarchy of
communicants will hold or fold
it is then the peace work proves relevant."
Hold your clod of land.
Give way to the waves.
All I do not know.
I admire the writer who penetrates the unknown by describing that which
is not himself.
anyone who wants to fight him all the time
helps him live outside himself.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015