My hands and feet are numb
for I am cold and I have no
home to give me warmth.
A home and warmth are two
things I search for that is why
people call me a bum.
I have not eaten but I have
prayed and my prayers have
not yet been answer for I have
not eaten in days.
So I'll just lay in my place of
sleep and pray once more as I
search for warmth, for I have
found my home, The streets.
Copyright © THE POET 174
Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold,
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds,
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
sometimes i talk to myself,
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all.
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister,
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it.
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room,
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy,
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her?
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse.
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat,
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why?
because daddy yelled
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...
Copyright © cassie hellberg
In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden
Copyright © Jennifer Abrams
There once was a day I would watch every airplane.
Praying you was on it to come take me away.
As a child I wanted you around until the day, you actually came.
The day you came is the day my life forever changed.
I remember as if it was yesterday when you physically violated me.
Mental visions as early as the age of eight, but old enough to vociferate.
Visualizing mental pictures in my mind while I am awake very aware of the improper abuse I take.
Your body on me feels something like an autopsy of a dead body.
While you lay on top of me as you press aggressively on me.
Against my will your force kept me still.
I am trying to understand if you recognize who I am.
I try to say no hoping you can comprehend; I am weakling as you apprehend.
Mentally and physically I became involuntarily your property.
A main character in a horror story, and you were my predatory.
I asked “God why?” as I bare to stare into his eyes.
This is not thee love I seek; all I wanted was my father to love me, but not like this injustice of violation of my rights.
This love is not real; not the love I wished to feel.
As he tries to stick his tongue into my mouth too young to know what this is all about.
I grip my lips painfully tight as he tries to slip his tongue inside.
I close them tighter with all my might, as he whispers, “let me love you right”
I beg him to leave as he pried my legs open with his knees my insides scream “somebody please help me!”
As he whispers how much he loves me I’m praying for God to just kill me.
I rather be dead then a man’s punching bag.
As I lay there my body was dead, and I laid my soul to rest.
I looked around the room and seen the Old Spice on the desk the same fragrance he wore around his neck.
The sun began to rise as he began to close my thighs.
In that moment in time I had made up my mind any man that ever say they love me was just telling lies.
I learned the hard way that love does not kill your inside; love does not take your pride.
A fatherless child I shall forever reside.
Every day that passes that little eight-year-old girl dies slowly inside.
Asking Jesus,” Why permit this?” and he slowly whispers…as I gently whimpers, “faith is the light that guide you through the darkness, my words reflecting as a lamp unto my feet.”
“Walk unto my path I’m here to carry the weak, come into me you are weary and overburdened. I will carry the pain you have obtained.”
“I am your father and you are my child you are never fatherless because I’m always around.”
Copyright © twanna Irisha
Introduction: Our real problem is, "Will we ever be able to learn who our true,
real self really is?" Being true to and with ourselves is that thing which is the
most important in the makeup of our whole mental mind as well as balance.
The suicide death of Robin Williams and a comment about living behind a
mask made by an Isle of Man beauty have served as the inspiration for writing
Our True, Real Self
It may change time to time and is in constant flight,
And of the fact, we should never, ever lose sight
That God is true and for us His huge help is here;
Believe in and always know He is close ad near.
Many times God, myself, I so often will ask:
" Why am I wearing and behind a mental mask?"
Trying to hide true self and me that You made,
Who often loved so simply to sit in the shade.
My life is over and done which was much fun;
I am a memory for my fans who won't forget me
And free at last in heaven, a far better place to be;
Where again someday, you can laugh along with me.
James Thomas Horn
173 Shadowood Court SE
Bolivia, NC 28422
Email address: email@example.com
www.poetrysoup.com Poem of the Day
for August 16, 2014
Copyright © James Horn
Note:***This poem is meant to be read from the bottom to the top, left to right
and you remain—
For the World has gone from me and fled
The stairway of my mind shall never end
I accept the fate with the grinning dead
Hello again demons, hello friends
Alas! I fall and I am done
Tell me where have you fled, my love, my friend?
For a moment I gaze upon the sun
Here I am on earth again
1 Stair Remains
Why can’t I be free?
Tell me, why aren’t they looking at thee?
Why are they looking at me?
2 Stairs Remain
The garments of comfort I long to wear
Knowing in my heart that I’ll never win
I skip that grimy third stair
Like most of my life has been
3 Stairs Remain
Though my infected feet leave bloodstains
I can’t release even a single tear
The poisons encompass my river of veins
I step on thorns of wrath and fear
Enshrouded with pain!
4 Stairs Remain
Oh, how am I to survive?
Relieve me from this ever-fixed sadness
Why can’t you just be alive?
Cease this madness!
5 Stairs Remain
As you breathe your very last breath
The devilish fiends laugh at me
They are blaming me for your death
The deaths of the masses are calling me
6 Stairs Remain
The carcasses you feed upon are glaring
Oh! vulturous world so full of greed
When everyone is staring
God, redeem me!
I just can’t succeed
7 Stairs Remain
Of other fiendish sins
And I feel the shivers
Drowned by the turbulent wind
My stale breath quivers
8 Stairs Remain
Though we all aren’t free
They laugh below in the hole where I fell
The demons are haunting, taunting me
Alone I wander blindly out of hell
9 Stairs Remain
And my will is close to gone…
The stairway continues on
Forever hungry, forever stale
I toil through death’s dark vale
10 Stairs Remain
Why can’t we be free?
My resistance is nearly gone
The wretches are watching, stalking me
I’m too exhausted to move on
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
I do not know?
Three Little Girls:
That's what we were,
Standing outside the school,
You, me, and her.
I remember how it felt
When you began to cry,
The weighted look of sadness
Reflecting in your eyes.
You missed the place you'd been before,
Where you had built a life,
And here among such harshness,
You had met much strife.
A year later, two little girls we were,
The other off on her own.
We were two in love with the same boy,
And a great friendship had grown.
You'd tease me and we'd laugh,
For hours that seemed like days,
And even though it was you he chose,
Our friendship did not go away.
Two little girls: that's what we were,
Friends until the very end.
As the years passed by,
More & more time together we would spend.
Though maybe not as close,
Were we, as I wish we could have been,
Our friendship was a strong one,
Unlike any I had seen.
You never pulled away,
Or said you needed space.
You'd greet me at the door, We'd link arms, a great smile upon your face.
One little girl: that's what I am,
Now that you left me.
I needed you so much,
But I suppose you never really did see.
Two friends, we are, torn apart,
However, our friendship will live on.
For true friendship knows know limits,
The barrier an invisible line that has been drawn.
You're still with me, here, even today,
But your smile I cannot see.
Though you pulled away,
We're closer now than I could have ever hoped to be.
Two little girls: that's what we are,
For no one could pull us apart.
Just like those still with me,
You'll be forever in my heart.
If I had known you'd leave me here alone,
I would have tied you to my side.
I knew not of your intentions,
For the truth you chose to hide.
You haven't left me here alone,
I just long to hear your voice.
You wrote "The End" to your story,
Without giving me a choice.
If I could, I'd hug you now,
The way I forgot to before.
You're still here with me,
But somehow I want more.
I want your laughter to ring out,
Your song to echo through the halls,
To see again the look upon your face when
We went exploring and found only horses' stalls.
I don't want to be one little girl,
Why did our fun have to end?
I want to be two little girls,
Not one who misses her friend.
Copyright © Jennifer Pruitt
There once was a girl,
Who's name I can't tell.
To spare her the pain,
I'll just call her Belle.
Belle was a beauty
And all the beasts could see,
She was everything in a girlfriend
That they wanted theirs to be.
Belle was so trusting,
Because she was never treated wrong,
But little did she know that
Her innocence wouldn't last long.
She had two friends,
Sasha and Trevor,
And a boyfriend that she thought
She'd love forever.
Her boyfriend, Sam,
And Trevor were friends.
So this fearsome foursome
Had fun to no end.
The youngest of the four
But the smartest, she thought.
But what a friend was
Was not what she was taught.
Trevor and Belle
Would hang out all day.
She would try to be like him
In her own boyish way.
You see, the Trevor I speak of
Was King of the Beasts
And everything he wanted
Was laid at his feet.
And, although curious,
Belle stayed true to Sam
And that made Trevor feel
That he was less of a man.
One day, in a summer
5 years ago,
Belle told me something
I needed to know.
She told me what happened
The day that she ran.
The day that will forever
Be burned in the sand.
She told me what happened
When she looked over her shoulder
And saw him walking towards her
As the room grew colder.
She told me her tears
Were no match to his power.
She told me what made this beast
She told me she screamed
And hollered and yelled
But her cries were soon muffled
By his lips, dry and pale.
She told me how she felt
The day that she was bruised.
Never in her life
Had she felt so used!
I asked her why she didn't fight
Or get tough like she does on the field.
She just said I'd never know the
Weakness that I would feel.
I couldn't help but to cry for her
As she blamed herself.
Belle had always wanted to be
The beauty on everyone's shelf.
"But not like that," she said to me,
"Not with one of my friends."
She let a tear roll down her face
As she spoke of her life's end.
Some may ask why'd she tell me;
"What made her come to you?"
I simply look at them and say,
"You don't know Belle like I do."
I know this story in great detail
And if you look real close you'll see
The tear I shed while writing this
Because...Belle is me.
Copyright © Leighanne Rush
By committing to nothing, one retains infinite options.
I have hid inside these words for moons and seasons and New Year’s toasts.
The lone wolf roams fertile pastures unfettered.
The thrill of the hunt.
An empty bed is the hope of a new body’s sleeping curve.
Tomorrow becomes yesterday.
“The mystery of mysteries is the gateway to marvels.”
I stopped looking long ago.
The faces have blurred into a montage of emptiness.
Come and go; came and went.
I never bothered much to be bothered.
There aren’t many memories
And I am thankful for that.
Wet fingers and licked lips’
Blood on my hands.
The years run on like a favorite sitcom gone bad.
It all should have been retired years ago.
It is easier to stay afloat and roam the big waters alone
Than set up camp on an island and face a face.
Freedom is all that you cannot commit to
And who surrenders to nothing is he who lives in frigid shadows of fear.
Maybe I have never truly known warmth.
I walk the streets like a war-worn shoulder.
A little cold, a little distant, a little too silent.
The words I have are recycled fragments of someone else’s life.
I don’t offer much.
Can you read my concrete stare?
I have an entire universe hiding in my back pocket
But I’m scared to show you.
It’s been so long since I groped or even fondled my own life.
I’m not sure what I do or don’t have to offer.
I just keep making bets and upping the ante.
Copyright © Robert Woolridge
Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013
I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over
Taught me to fight back
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over
He gave me my stubbornness
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over
How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over
Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on
I may stumble I may fall
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over
Sabrina Niday Hansel
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
Copyright © Laura Hamilton
" From the debt of my heart"
The African child
Sat behind the bamboo fence
He was sober and tense
Sputtering and wondering.
He forsook the bush meat
And the gathering under the moonlight
For sobriety and the causes of his uncertainties.
His clothes were like dried leaves
His feet like openings in the eaves
He longed to see a brighter tomorrow
He clarified the causes of his sorrow;
Sins of the father,
Fighting not to make things better
Therefore darkening the weather,
Making his destiny falter and bitter.
Tears exuded from the sound of his flute,
His fears enlarged like a parachute
But one thing he never understood,
Watch and pray, oh! African root
For your foundation is stinky, filthy,
Faulty and guilty...... watch and pray.
Copyright © Charles Melody Lightning Ink
Craze comes out of barrel of joy,
Joy, what makes you behave coy,
Coyness, a thing that would get a toy
From the soul, hands of a smart lil' boy
That his head bobs in saving his mother,
Mother, the filial original not really similar
Similar? To the father, rasp voice that quiver
From the garden of marital rupture. It'ld linger
Over the elms of gut, ebbing with the tide
Of bliss ended. Never should beings all hide
The love, warmth of family. Filial code to side
A broken china, a shattered shuttle that'ld bide
Brittle bliss. Come in the evenings and laugh
At the debris of the drum, a rumble of cough
Upon anodyne ruble of ruin. Feed from trough
O! Love if you aren't life. Then live quickly, rough.
Copyright © Onyebuchi Okonkwo
Through the hardships so many endure,
Is there anything I could say that would help you here
Nothing I do and nothing I say,
Could make that pain simply go away.
I can tell you that I know how you feel,
But we all know that sometimes that's not real.
Each of us have something important to say.
That is why we are here and write this way.
Please join me in saying one simple thing.
Someone somewhere can share in your pain.
Bless you all from the core of my being.
I just wanted to share the one simple feeling.
-Not for any contest, just a thought.
Copyright © Donald Williams
? ...GONE... ?
I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt
To lose someone you never really had,
Days can be tough and at times cruel
To much for one to bear alone..
I was hoping that you would say
If I feel that I can't hold on any longer,
You'll take my hand and we'll go through it until together.
When the time comes, that if I can't stand on my own again
And I won't need you anymore, I will let go.
I will let go, if that would make you happy..
If you're lonely and your heart feels empty,
Just tell me and I will step inside.
But if One Day, you'll be needing that space for someone else
Don't worry and gladly I will give in my space..
Like in a painful, sad love story
It's amazing how easily to fall inlove with someone,
Who simply smiles, talks or stare at you
The only hard thing to do is to make that person fall for you.
They say that time heals all wounds, but all it's done so far
is give me more time to think about how much I miss You..
Okay, so maybe time heals most wounds, right?
Then why does it feel like it?
The wound is getting bigger and bigger every second.
Maybe Love is just a beautiful dream, and then we wake up..
Just as they always say when somebody leaves
When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness,
Instead keep your head up high and gaze for the stars.
For that is where broken hearts have been sent to heal..
What is the opposite of Two?..
...A lonely me, A lonely You...
They say relationships are like glass
That sometimes it's better to leave them broken
Than risk hurting oneself in trying to put it back together.
Lost in my heart, lost in my mind, I'm lost in your eyes
Entire days, weeks, months, ...a blur...
Flickers of light in the darkness
Only to be enveloped in shadow once more.
And yet within the shadows of pain
Might be the faint flicker of love once fel,t
And that could make all the darkness worthwhile
Because a single "I Love You"
Is worth more than a thousand goodbyes..
I'm tired my Beloved..
of chafing my heart against the want of you,
Of squeezing into little inkdrops and writing it.
Ask me why I keep on loving you
When it's clear that you don't feel the same way for me.
The problem is that as much as I can't force you to love me
I can't force myself to stop loving you..
So I tell myself sometimes..
'Count the gardens by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall.
Count your life with smiles and not with tears that roll." ..
Though sometimes, these tears say all there is to say
And the scars don't ever fade away,
I am thankful that for a moment
I once met You, I once felt you look my way.
I once felt You within me, in my heart and mind
I once was happy and alive with You
I once Loved you and still Loving You... xoxo
P.S ..KYHYCYILY.. always.. ? ? ?
Copyright © Anna Lo
THE HOSPITAL FAIRYLAND
They walked together, hand in hand,
Into life’s magical fairyland.
Where there was no trouble, where there was no pain.
Where life could really, begin all over again.
Where were no men in little white coats.
Forcing you all, to stuff drugs down your throats.
Forcing you to do, what you didn’t want to.
Telling you it was all for the best, for you,
People shouting, people crying.
Most of the people talking about dying.
What is this hell, we’ve all come to?
It’s called coming off drugs, we all have It to go through.
Where will it end, what will we do?
None of us really, has a clue.
We are given more pills, we are told, we have to take.
To the men in white coats, life’s a piece of cake.
We are the prisoners, they guard the doors.
Some try to creep out, on all fours.
Into hell and back, we go for a ride.
Eventually if we’re lucky, we come out the other side.
Where we can walk, hand in hand.
Into life’s magical Fairyland.
Where there is trouble, where there is pain.
But at least we can start, living again.
Copyright © pat dring
A fool was crowned
And now we`re bound
To serve and please
On hands and knees,
To hate and smile
Each day and mile,
We feel defeat
And kiss his feet.
The foolish kings
Cut off our wings.
Their poisoned knife-
Our foolish life.
And faith`s refuse
Won`t save our muse,
When banned to fly,
She`ll fall and die.
Still time will flow-
Kings come and go.
But teams of mules,
That choose the fools
To be ahead
Alive and dead,
Won`t change a bit
The fate they meet.
They`ll choke on pride,
They`ll run and hide
And in their shells
That life was cruel
To have set the rule-
“Do as you`re told,
Silence is gold.”
We pay the price
To hide our vice:
The coward `s role-
To lie and crawl.
And hope someday
Things`ll come our way,
We`ll find the might
To rise and fight.
Copyright © Marina A
The missing light,
That love comes again...
Are like a hard glide,
In a shining rainbow's light...
All dreams and fantasies,
Can be reality,
Is based on reality...
But all histories aren't the same...
Sometimes, we dive,
In our lives...
For what you see,
For what it is...,
'Cause time passes,
But, memories remain...
To your heart,
The body, does,
The mind, thinks,
And, the heart, feels...,
While, the soul, lives...
To remember the past,
To live the present,
And to wait and pursue the future...
Listen to your heart,
Before you are telling goodbye,
Might lead to demise...,
But, remember that destiny can be changed...
Life is unpredictable,
But space and time,
Could be controlled...
And even if some die,
We may survive...
Might have an endless beginning...
All that remains,
Is to be reborn...
Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz
Clumsy days and hazy nights
Haunting and bring me tears
I should stop perturbing
Whilst my heart still whipping
Wrath of nature is just reflection
Of my fragments that created imprints
Within my being that stands steadfast
Even in the darkest days of my existence.
Copyright © marvin celestial
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
Copyright © James Fraser
I guide my body,
but my soul I do not.
They've slowly broken apart.
The darkness screams at me,
trying to reel me in.
"they're gone," they say.
"you're nothing but pitty and sin."
Though most think it's hard to step foot in this place,
it takes true strength to find another way.
As the black swallows me whole,
I see a million bright lights.
I lay there in my sorrow,
and know the stars are mine tonight.
Somehow they -- uniquely twinkling --
take my feelings on adventures to slow my breathing.
They strongly look through me,
and have my mind soaked
with things like courage, and happiness, and hope.
I lay there for hours until their vivid wisdom fades.
the dreadful transition of night to day.
When the sun gradually peaks over the horizon,
I notice the pain in my hand from clenching my knife.
But as the light shines upon me,
the only feeling I have is the feeling of life.
I stand face to face with the greatest star of all.
Feeding off of its power, I break down my wall.
The sun shows me the paths that I have to choose from,
but it's up to me to choose the right one.
I'm ready to cut ties with the sadness I hold.
I shall live my life right and pick the right way to go.
I'm eager for night to fall,
to show them that they were right.
They all found their way.
The stars are mine tonight.
Copyright © Mercedes Young
You are a million miles away
thinking of you I am today.
I want to write to tell you so,
although i'm sure you already know.
My body may be far away,
but my heart is what will always stay.
True love is very hard to find,
but you my dear, are one of a kind.
I've found a love so pure and true,
loyal and honest , that is you.
I am proud to say we belong together,
no matter the distance, our love will not sever.
and when we're together again you'll see,
so happy, together, forever we'll be!
Copyright © lisa macmaster
passionate moments filled
with zeal and zest as i gathered
thoughout babbling brooks tainted
an yet brillantly carved from a sudden
interruption of unguided cognitive skills
completely noted as french karma
binded with crued wrath unseen
gripping racing thoughts tinged
with a sensual sadness i'd become to know
very well whille quiet times beckons
my inspirational soul casting a beacon light
of faint hues glorious to greet beyond
a calm walk way covered in a quiant emory
of a soft garden full of greenary
a shivering ivy conceal the sorted bliss
that quiets the empty mind between
universal meetings above the hidden stars
reaching the gravity under a rushing spring
sheer wetness bursting from a mist of lost clouds
Copyright © Yolanda Jones
Mountains crumble no more to be
Oceans of woe since you left me
Thunder rolls and my heart it breaks
Humbly life ends, my soul it quakes
Everlasting grief with no mend
Reminds me daily, it will not bend
Inconceivable, this pain I bear
My love's not gone, together we'll share
In lasting glory at Jesus' feet
Serenity and grace, oh how sweet
Salvation unites on heaven's shore
Yesterday's gone, tomorrow brings more
Only a moment in time we wait
Until we meet at heaven's gate
Copyright © kanzazy hutchins
It's the empty spaces
That we long to fill
It's our lifelong dreams
The apathy takes hold
The caring ceases
A semblance of a normal life
Lies at our feet in pieces
When the magic no longer amazes
And charm has all but died
Nothing left to hold onto but hope
And give it another try
Copyright © Adam Piper
So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!
Copyright © Travis Flasnick
As your mind collects the memories of yesterday
Epiphanies tie into knotty strings of realization
That very moment. . .
You merely exist
Back then. . .those smiles
Those. . .distant laughs
Some you remember by name
Gone now maybe
Like the exhalation of the wind
Others dispersed in the world of arbitrary happening
Like leaves from falling, man-made trees
There is no doubt that they have
Activate the bomb
Ignite the fuse
And you’re on next year’s history book
But drained of all remaining good
That smile you gave
The warm embrace so long ago
Salt-coated with piles of rubbish
Over last remaining mental spurts of comfort
Evil, evil, evil, evil, EVIL. . .
Always absorbed and remembered
. . .though never forgiven. . .
All good and gracious sentiments
Packed up in a box set nonchalantly in Downstair’s storage
. . .that chair with the broken leg in the corner of the room
That mangled cobweb holding a dangling, lifeless spider
A drowned sailor’s hat drifting through the current of the ocean
The single tear from a soldier’s vigilant, memory-stricken eye
The frustrating thoughts of a mute
The unchanged. . .HATED deformations
Forgotten you. . .
One soul brings to light weary, unthought-of happenings
Wedged deep into what she can only imagine
With not even a hint of understanding
. . .of the pain. . . .of the bewildering distortions
Of the ugly. . .
One soul merely vomits sickly verse after verse
As humanity embraces its downfall
The poet hangs onto her unjustifiable, forgotten. . .
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
I walk a mile to see the self in me that I believe to be,
I knew the road I choose to lay my head to sleep is called my home,
times in need I could barely see that in myself I will set free,
the act that held me down, something about me I could not see,
I lived a life when I decide that day I said that I don't care,
so young, so bright, I dim my light, traumatized for me to share,
love me please regardless of what you heard and what you have seen,
friends say that I'm only human, yes you're right, a human but who am I being?
My life will move in the direction I choose,
this I know I have always been taught
that I choose to be a winner or lose,
its entirely up to me its all in my thoughts.
Copyright © Ken Fepulea'i
The absent mind rewinds the time pursued by each regret,
For as the lore that came before brought memories to forget.
And in the seed that failed to feed a lovers sweet duet,
A swift demise in plain disguise stood ready to be met.
This was the sorrow that bled of tomorrow, for each day would soon bring the rest;
Every reminder was fiercer, yet kinder, and soon would begin its conquest.
The roses have hardened in paper-back gardens; the pages in which they were pressed...
It's all that remains from the valentine chains that had nothing but pain to suggest.
The shackles will tighten unless you enlighten the truth of your young history:
The fact that the pain can help you retain the lessons of each mystery.
Now that the past has fallen at last, so has your dark enemy...
The night-light grows dreary as thoughts to theory: tomorrow's a new memory.
Copyright © Bryant Richardson