I look across the bed… you’re not there… you’re dead.
I look across the bed and see…you’re no longer next to me.
I reach over and try to feel your skin,
and remember all the joy there had been…
but my hands come back empty…trying desperately to hold on,
barely clinging to life now that your gone.
And I let out a cry I’m quite sure heaven hears,
Or will it linger in limbo for all of my years.
How lonely this bed, where imprisoned I lay.
How long can I take this day after day?
They say that in spirit your right next to me.
But that is no comfort for it’s blackness I see.
They say that it’s time to move on with my life,
But they have no clue of my pain and my strife.
You were my best friend, my angel, my love,
You were hand picked for me from above.
You were the one who’s soul I adored
Whatever I did you were there to applaud.
You alone knew me inside and out,
And the love that we shared left no one to doubt.
For you were my angel sent from above,
To care for, to lean on, to cherish and love…..
So I’ll go back to bed where imprisoned I lay,
And hope for a joy that visits someday.
Time for all seasons is his plan,
roaming all of nature’s land.
Flowers bloom, their brightness fade,
Waters of life, we drink and wade.
Flowers spent, with grief we cry,
gazing upon the heavens high.
In seek of comfort, joy, and peace,
birds sing soothing, grief release.
Breath of breeze whispers love,
from the Holy one above.
Trees of shelter for mortal man,
until He holds us in his hand.
Love and peace for eternity!
For: Brian Strand's
Poem of Faith Contest
Won Honorable Mention
July 1, 2010
I keep the memories locked away,
never to see the light of day.
Grief is just beyond that door
where I lie upon the floor
begging you "please don't die".
Asking God " why, why, why ?"
I closed the door on that day
to keep those memories at bay.
My heart, it could stand no more
of what I'd locked behind that door.
Guilt and grief, sadness, pain.
Knowing I'd never see you again.
Suicide is such an ugly word.
Much too ugly to be heard,
so I keep the memories locked away
to never see the light of day.
for Constance's "Memories Beyond the Door"
If I picked my Valentine
she'd be a perfect 10.
She'd have blonde hair with highlites
and answer where and when.
She'd be a little shorter,
yet tall enough to kiss.
Her reach a little longer
to torture us in bliss.
Her shape would be the bomb.
As sexy as they come.
With hair up for the moment
I'd meet her at the prom.
She'd talk a little faster
with words I'd say are smart.
Yet keep me to attention
in hugs up to my heart.
A smile just like a lion.
Her face a source of pride.
One to show my mother.
And then to make my bride.
My Valentine was perfect
as I lost her way back then.
How was I to know that she
would find her perfect 10.
Copyright © 2013
Skittles and a soda
against a gun in its holster?
One day that scream
will be known as a teen
not a heinous lying Fein
What a sinister ploy and twist
with a loaded gun and no fist?
Had everyone sitting and waiting
doomed by a verdict just delaying
Was this just an optical illusion
or, a devious planned conclusion?
Now, this generation too afraid
wearing hoodies will get you dead
But, the Klan was still glad
hoodies they've always had
A verdict they too saw,
ushering in martial law
I feel your presence everywhere I go
You know how much I miss you and how I love you so
I try very hard not to be sad
That's when I try to think of all the good times we had
You'll always be with me every single day
But Oh! How much I miss you since you went away.
Life is like a hurricane.
Life, is like a heavy rain.
A lake of pain like lake Baikal.
Tears, flow like a waterfall.
People are like granite stone;
in the end your'e left alone.
But what of the good things?
Like the sound of when a church bell rings?
Or the miraculous, beautiful way
one helps another through troublesome day?
Tragedies of life aren't fun,
but in the end we learn a ton.
Though pain we do remember,
the flame eventually turns to ember.
You see, the thing about walking through earth each day,
is The King turns the curse to a healthy pathway.
I feel such empathy when I look at you,
I see the pain you're going through,
I hardly know you, you hardly know me,
But we acknowledge each other silently,
Your face disgraces your usual smile,
And for a second I wish I could have it awhile,
The envied are so often the ones envying most,
The beautiful faces underneath, are the ghosts,
Scary, the masks we work hard to build,
Crumble like ruins of a wicked King's guild,
I hope all is well, that you'll be alright,
That sleep will come to you peacefully tonight,
And when life is cloudy, remember, dear one,
There are people around you to bring out the sun.
It seems I wanted too much:
or may be just a touch.
May be a little bit more:
happiness with the one I adore.
May be a good morning kiss,
or sweet words: “My honey I miss”.
It seems I wanted too much:
to be happy as such,
to fly in the sky like a bird,
to be understood without a second word,
to listen to the songs of my Lord,
to give a smile and behave like a child.
It seems I wanted too much:
to live without any mistakes,
without any heart breaks.
I wanted my soul not to be cold,
to live without any storms,
to feel your heart warmth.
It seems I wanted too much:
to turn into a dove,
to swim on the waves of love,
to meet with you every dawn,
to have the wings of a swan
and never be alone.
It seems I wanted too much...
Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
Yarns and laughter once flowed through my father’s old chair,
With its smile shaped cushion that’s in need of some repair,
He laughed as he told his stories and reeled us with his charm,
As we wormy wriggled on his words with no fear or alarm.
He smiled with his eyes and blinked as the memories rose,
His tortoise shell glasses were perched wisely upon his nose.
Regal stories of yesteryear when he was in his prime,
For reasons lost or disregarded, now a shadow lost in time.
His smile made us happy as we sat and listened true,
Of friends he met, or grew up with, some we even knew.
Now the chair is silent, though its cushion tries to smile,
I hope to find a shadow there when I check once in a while.
Just memories fill the void where once laughter filled that chair,
With its smile shaped cushion that’s in need of some repair.
18th July 2013
She watched the pretty girl knock on his door
Sadly her friend didn't live there any more
How would she tell her he had gone away
he packed and left before the light of day
She was looking for the father of her child
How could she have trusted a boy so wild
He failed to leave a forwarding address
How would she raise a child under duress
The woman said "dear it will be okay."
"Please come sit down together we'll pray."
From saucer like eyes tears began to flow
"Do you know where he went? I need to know!"
The baby kicked inside, the girl screamed"Why?"
"He said he loved me but didn't even try."
The girl rises up with a knowing glance
She'll do all she can to give her child a chance
No longer a girl a woman today
Forget about dolls with a child she will play
All of his needs will trump her own
She has been abandoned but she's not alone
For god hears the prayers from her pure heart
Life's not defined by a difficult start
A child is a blessing a reason to pray
God and the woman help her find a way
Collaboration with Mystic Rose.
The morning births a new day's sun
Revealing night's shadowed pun
Why this road, you ask of me?
Something wrong, I've done to thee?
My body weighs like anchored ships
No words I speak from quivering lips
My hands are bound, my mind is spent
As thoughts incarnate my lovers scent.
My sight is scant, a labored breath
Desperate cries, My soul near death
Each beat my heart now pays its dues
For loving you was mine to choose
I lye in angst, a tattered seam
A chapter closed on lover's dream
Oh my lord, my dearest friend
I pray to thee in hopes to mend
This broken heart, of saddened tale
To find the truth where others fail
My dearest God I crave thee now
Since my love has flown to thou
These answers that I fail to find
Aberrations of a flailing mind
Imprison me from heavens love
And make me doubt my God above
But I will not let idle mind
Keep me from my destined time
For life is short and one day near
I'll hold the one I love most dear
So steadfast will I trust in him
And never doubt my God within.
Single file in a row
bare feet freezing in the snow
in a pile, bodies burn
all wait fearfully for their turn
ash and smoke clog the air
ringing with screams of despair
moving closer to their end
their minds begin to slowly bend
the snow is stained with crimson red
drinking in the blood they've shed
in the trees, starved ravens wait
to feed on those who've met their fate
more bodies burn, the bells tolls on
the moon reveals a scarlet dawn
as all the corpses burn in heaps
just for now, the darkness sleeps
By Morgan Mise
Written December 3, 2012
written 20th may 2013
As the world shuts down
lavish ladies put on their gown
Rest comes, as they comb their hair
while others, fight the midnight air
All living lives, they had exactly detailed
not a thought goes out, to those who failed
Homeless man...where was his fall?
can any of you see or care, that no one heard his call
One moment...one tiny second, it's lost
the next one to fall....could be anyone's cost
Be wise, and look to the skies
for he is the one, you need to recognise!
Oh, the morning's Godly devotions
Amid ungodly emotions
Walking the earth, dampness soothing the sole
Bound to it with affinity and closeness
Yet heaven bound, tearing away from this concrete shoe
The coffin-drumming clods of clay
Covered with verge and fields of hay
A thin covering at that
As if the bountiful bosom is clad with a slip of silk,
A wisp of decency
Oh, the throes of fleshly woes
The shudder and fever of the soul's great war
Obsession, passion, thrills after fashion
The lashing of a scaly tail at the end of this mortal coil
Toil, toil, the gravel pit of survival
For what, mere existence?
The passions collide, asteroid striking planet,
Barren wasteland exploding in pits and pocks,
Craters round, dry as bone
Dry as love, old as valleys
Soundlessly, airlessly, lovelessly grey
Should I leave or should I stay?
Passion swells as sea's mighty tide
Thrusting the shore, thrusting, subside
Yet the shore is not moved, not even an inch
And on the moon there is no thirst to be quenched
No moisture, no thrust
No place, no lust
No sound to awake
No ear to hear the gong
of time tick and take
--all joy is lost
Vanquished am I
Sea winds tossed.
No wave of death will set me free--
Guilt-forced breath has ravaged me.
My heart's delight I've sacrificed.
For dire neglect I paid a price.
The lust of Fame ate precious time.
I sacrificed my love sublime.
Inexorable fate--pure Joy has fled.
Vanquished is hope--my Love lies dead.
Loose are the oven mitts that covered mama's hands.
Cold are her rustic pots and pans.
Stained are the pages of her favorite cookbook.
Lull hangs her ladle on its metal hook.
Hiding on the ceiling is the once dancing steam
of beef stroganoff's sour cream.
Silent is the spatula that served family guests.
Quietly the food processor rests.
Daddy can only cook up a sweat,
and I'm too young to read a recipe yet.
There's no warmth in the kitchen since mama's decease.
These objects are resting, but not in grease.
Even my mind not stilled by silence
my thoughts outraged with hurt and hate
as Im dumbfounded with confusion
leaving the cause to no debate,
I cannot tell you what is wrong
to tell you means I'd have to trust,
and my heart no longer feels willing,
beating only cause it must.
I feel a dead man live my life
I see his cold abandoned heart,
I hear his agonising cries
as he is torn more apart,
knowing no peace, no rest I find
having no comfort, stuck in a bind
a vagabond, alone in his life
Ive been cut off, betrayal was the knife.
awaiting death, and still much worse
my whole life upon this earth
seems like a scheme to take my worth
and bring me to nothing,
such is my curse
and i fear the effects
may never reverse
and make believe that I am cursed.
the way I feel too great for words
too great to bear such constant hurt
my soul depressed and left prostrate
before God to help, I hope it works. . .
Upon a bed of petals of red and white
Upon a bed of petals where everything looks right
There she lies so perfectly still
Where her heart is a disaster so very ill
Upon a bed of petals of roses that were red
Her heart became cold then her body became dead
But no one will ever care; she’s a problem to everyone
So I guess that they are happy now that she is gone
Upon a bed of petals of roses that were white
I see her as angel shining very bright
There in the clouds floating up above
I hope that she is finally getting love
Upon a bed of petals where I don’t see her anymore
Where my heart breaks even more than before
And as the wind blows and those petals fly
My heart started to die right after I said goodbye
In Ecclesiastes Chapter 3 it lets us know under the sun there is a time for everything,
a time to dance, a time to sing,
a time to mourn, a time to cry,
a time to live, there is even a time that it’s ok to question why?
Why Lord did you take her? Why did she have to go away?
Why when we loved her and needed her, why couldn’t she stay?
And if you listen to the small still voice as he whispers in your ear,
I believe these are the words that you might hear….
My child you love her but I love her too, and you may not believe this but Heaven needed her much more then you can see,
she has a place prepared for her here with me,
she is my special angel , she still has a works to do, and her earthly body just wouldn’t sustain,
it was causing her so much hardship and pain,
It hurt me to see my daughter that way and it left you open for hell brimstone fire and rain,
so I intervened seeing you needed the protection guidance and love that she gave you so good while she was able to fight,
I had to! The pain in her flesh was keeping her from doing the job right!
So I done a works when I called her home not just for her, but for you too,
You see my dear child she is the guardian Angel that I have appointed to you,
now she hurts no more, yet she is still there to protect, guide, and nourish you,
so don’t worry she is not far from you,
right now you may not believe me,
but in days to come it will become clear and you will see,
for Heaven has its angel back, her mansion she has claimed,
and when the wind blows you will hear her calling your name,
you will feel her showering you with love in the midst of the rain,
and you will even feel the warmth of her embrace,
as the sun makes its way thru the clouds and shines upon your face,
when all of this comes to pass then you will understand and know that my words are true,
when I say she has not left….. She is still there with you!
Dedicated to Marjorie Black our Angel!
I remember the time we were together.
When you said we'll be forever.
But now you left me alone.
All alone, on my own.
I remember the December.
When we were together.
Laughter all around us.
And between us there was no fuss.
But as you have gone away.
And I stayed.
With the memories and pain.
That you had let for me to gain.
But now it's time to get over.
And it's time to forget you forever.
The distance to you where you are,
spans too wide on the bridge too far.
I run the distance, yet, still I see,
There's more stretched out ahead of me.
Too far the bridge, too long to cross,
unless your wings to me you toss!
Heart rendering cries and war widows,
Innocent faces bound to lose their glow,
Why this war and bloodshed ?
To define boundaries on religion and race,
Confine it to bravery and conquer for grace,
What in return are we going to get ?
Best of minds putting up to destroy,
Aren't we leading a dead convoy ?
When do we rise above war for humanity sake ?
Why not cherish birth rather ending up life,
Shun destruction and put an end to strife,
Do we still need to ponder ?
His amazing creations and nature in hue and cry,
I can't even breathe, can slashed wings ever fly ?
Unless we intellectuals put an end to unending wars !!
Written December 16th, 2014
For Cyndi's contest 'I can't breathe'
Ghazal : Now she’s left and gone to be herself again
Now she’s left and gone away, my clothes hang dry
On the line for all to see – what a crying shame !
The lone cuckoo calls out in a haunting tone
Who hears him down here but on wing – what a shame !
Pigeons and crows balance on the clothes-line
And their droppings stain the sheets – Oh open shame !
She’s gone with shrieks from the magpies that dark day
And left me with her first born – Block my shame !
Baby cries for all to hear recall her voice
Where will it hide its face - Oh growing shame !
The musang miaows its woes in the jackfruit tree
Now that the wild she-cat roams in wayward shame
Baby gapes out the window and wonders why
If earth and sky witness bear – painful shame !
Would that the mother hear the cuckoo call
And lift her head to listen to quell my shame
The jackfruit’s ripe and sags at the tree trunk
A moaning woman at child birth - no shame
The puffed monsoon pulls its South-West skirts up
And floods the rice fields with tears, bitter shame !
Hamadryad’s hypnotic eyes turn ire red
Fate keeps the mongoose from common death – O Shame !
Still the baby’s cries in my ears call to you
What will I tell her later – wipe out shame ?
My own shame mixed with no name to call my own
No Elephant God of Wisdom can blot out shame !
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Slowly n slowly the poison spread...
To my heart n into the head!
Slowly n slowly I felt the uproar....
Of my transition to a man I wasn't before...
Slowly n slowly I loosened the load....
Of dreams n hopes,& took that road....
Towards the discarded realms of futility.....
Which reached, perhaps, to obscurity.....!!!
Discarded by the Lady Luck ;
Dying in agonising abandonment...
Far from the realms of fulfillment...!
As I pass through this phase of acute pain...
My heart whispers once again...
The same thing that repeats within...
Like incurable pestilence in the skin !
When you would be abandoned alone...
Being rough & dry like a stone...
When no one would hear your dolorous tales...
& your poor heart persistently ails...
Donot expect ever to get my mercy...
I am not a hermit really...
I will prefer a life of abandonment...
Than the repeat of that unforgettable punishment...!
Looked Like a Loser
He looked like a loser who often lied
And even every drug he had tried;
If he only had made God his goal
To enter his life and save his soul.
Around and around he had wandered
He heard lightening after it thundered.
Message to him God was sending;
When you see a rainbow I am the ending.
Also of all life, I am the beginning
While your hair is gray and now thinning;
Such a shame you never heard the Lord
And see in life all He always adored.
But now you have gone a different way
And there is nothing left to say;
Outside its so dreary and now does rain;
While you're in asylum for the insane.
What's with all of this him and hawing?
From whole world is everyone withdrawing?
And sad has become their favorite word
Which to me really is totally absurd.
Is this what God does want you to do?
Say life is over, done and now through
And into a corner shall creep and hide;
Forget about all the pain so deep inside.
Dear God again to You I will pray;
With Your will please show me the way,
To avoid clusters of very bad thoughts
And my heart being tied up in many knots.
Some Stillborn Child
Always seemed to be so sad
About someone I never had
Before and not here anymore;
Now can't open or shut a door.
Where could my child have gone;
Why did God bring this upon?
Me and would have to suffer so;
Not see a face that likes to glow.
Child once had been a part of me;
Soul floating in air finally free;
Will miss him or her very much;
Only for second I wanted to touch.
No! Child forever is incomplete,
From head's top to bottom of feet;
Outside day's weather is kind of fair;
Child's in heaven now high up there.
Could that be a boyfriend instead
He was in an accident and is dead,
To forget there is never any way
Another prayer for him started to say.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Into A Grave
Will remember Robin Williams for who he was,
A humorous entertainer we had loved because
Each and everyone of those he entertained
His fine performance down on them rained.
But as we do become deep in depression
And have forgotten to go to another session,
To ourselves one day must come to terms;
Should we really open another can of worms?
So he kept to himself before he had died
And his desire to live slowly did slide;
A cutup comedian who would not behave
Has gone away and disappeared into a grave.
James Thomas Horn
Whatever They Will Want
Isn't very pretty what a Board without pity can do
Which is taking much advantage of me and you
And having been used and taken to utter extreme
After relieving us of our each and every dream.
They have left you completely high and dry
And only the Board will know the reasons why;
By Board all of have been taken for granted;
We only wanted small place with flowers planted.
Slightest idea presume people never did have any
About people and problems which may be many
Who suffered due to their loved ones being lost
Board became confused between suffering and cost.
Many values by Board we constantly being misplaced
And with a big decision all of them had been faced;
Obviously, I must be bold while also being blunt;
Hole entire board will do whatever they will want.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran