Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head
Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much
I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care
I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
DECLARATIONS OF A SOCIAL SCIENTIST
Indeed, I am that Poet and know it.
Just in transition to a more enriched poetry form.
I want to talk about life, politics, and religion.
Maybe not simultaneously but how I am feeling today.
I tell you life isn't a bowl of cherries.
I am not harvesting berries.
I live a vivacious existence.
I nature walk and take beautiful pictures.
I thrive in my leisure time.
Even more so, I work until my mind unwinds.
I am just a thrill seeker but not an extremist.
I am an illustration of wellbeing.
In fact, I am striving for better physical dexterity.
In all, my body desires more agility.
To eradicate the clumsiness,
My ability to monitor my own quickness is propensity depleted.
My mind, body, and spirit have superseded.
Oh, I am told that it is all right to be big headed.
Of course, gloating is good for your inner being.
Dwindling is not something I will let occur.
I am the booster of morale.
Be assured that I am there for others who seek a physiological mental form.
Do I appear to be titivated?
I am what I have stated.
Doubtlessly, there will be jealousy.
Without doubt, they will envy me.
Undoubtedly, this will not hinder.
I have overcome obstacles since the being of my existence.
Liberated from birth via a nation of government, I am free.
I can wave my hand and be seen.
I can stand up for what is right.
I can ignite the political fire.
I can educate my mind to genius.
I can defeat enmity.
Negativity may come but I disallow it to be a formula.
I am abreast.
Penned on October 31, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
All the little bunnies were lined up for a race. Why, you may ask?
Because the dear old Leader Bunny was stepping down with grace.
He had led the others for years without disgrace, in all pursuits.
He was their advisor, friend, and confidant... solver of disputes.
Such a lofty position was dearly sought by all…from all around.
But he could pick only one to wear that lofty, wonderful crown.
So a race was determined to quickly resolve, the question therein.
And a lovely little laurel crown was offered, to the one who did win.
Now many strategies to win emerged from within the race.
The most common was the notion to set the fastest pace…
A few would use tricks that might hurt, in order to slow others down.
A few were mean, for they wanted the power that comes with the crown.
Two were clever and would catapult each other at the very end.
A few just practiced running to gain the added stamina needed to win.
Only one little rabbit found shoes for the poor, for it was a rocky trail.
And when the race began he helped those hurt in the prevail.
Now the dear old leader had never actually worn a laurel crown.
His had been symbolic; his works had brought him his renown.
When the Leader Bunny gave the laurel crown to he who won the race…
Only a few were surprised, when the little helper won the Leader’s grace…
Though some would go on to complain because he had come in last…
It truly takes someone who knows how to serve, to lead and guide the rest.
But my moral to this story is that…. Regardless what some may think…
It takes compassion to correctly lead…and sometimes the last can be the best…
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
She'll be loved, a modest, pure and golden
Love, but hers is lust . .
A teenage dream of youth today
Refraining from true trust;
Explosive social tendencies to
Decide her right from wrong,
Human instincts not so human
But a technologic song-
It shall hum to her desire,
In another whom she'll cross;
Mechanic works inside her brain,
Must force her soul a loss.
Such a choice yet to be made,
Though no pain inside shall pass.
Due to social tendencies,
Yes, due to social tendencies . .
His heartache be her last
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2012
Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.
The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.
Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Extraordinary, I am
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding the gift I shouldn't fought
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
The food of my soul
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart
Copyright © Katrina Salem | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
Hello my friend,
Hope all is well
This is your bud,
'Ol tom bell
You might wish
To read this poem
"Bad Day at the Eyedoctors"
A true tom tale
And shows what a fool I be
So check it out,
And you'll see!
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008
I do not know?
My eyes can see
That the sand is like sea
And it stretches to the end of my mind
On a ship set to sail
with four legs and a tail
Tishmandu I set out to find
Now the wind is of sand
and can lend a hand
in tearing the flesh from your bone
So your head you keep wrapped
your snaps keep snapped
and you never travel alone
The heat at midday
is to kill and waylay
if the body and soul are not one
So you pray to the east
and prepare for slim feast
begging passage under full sun
Caravan of the seed
born on camels that breed
in an endless march between wells
Over lost count of dunes
under God and full moons
blessing passage with incense and bells
At the end of the day
when gold turns to grey
and the stars brighten the skies
A device is brought forth
to determine true north
and the path where Tishmandu lies
On the fortieth morn
pressing lips to the horn
a signal beckons us wake
Leaving water behind
on a course now refined
the final leagues we must take
Tishmandu is a place
where a white mans face
has never been seen or allowed
But the people have need
and my service agreed
in a land under sky without cloud
Like feathers of blue
in the distance I view
the flags on top of the walls
Though my limbs are worn
my very fabric is torn
I move towards Tishmandu halls
At last in the shade
a walled shelter is bade
I meet with the maker of rules
A service I bring
but to rules I must cling
or a tortures price must be paid
Twenty days and seven
in the passes of heaven
I treated the sick and the lame
With rules on my mind
the medicines I grind
The devil of Tish for to tame
As I washed the sick
and avoided blunt stick
the God of the desert did smile
For the people made well
in this fortified hell
where spirit is subject to trial
In the end I am paid
for the journey I made
and the healing and medicine new
On my camel back
salted meats in my pack
I Bid farewell to Tishmandu
Copyright © Ray Mattos | Year Posted 2011
A true story.
Here I was,
23 or 24...
Classed an "Executive"
NYC Dept Store Chain,
"Executive" label meant
I could work overtime
For one half of my normal salary...
But a fool sees stars
Where he should see crime
Promoted "Furniture Buyer"....
Big Ticket spot....
They seemed out to prove
Smart I was not.
Big Furniture Market,
High Point, N.C.,
Invited out to dinner,
By big shot vendor....
Oh...whoop, whoop, yea!
Of course, my stuffy boss
In the next chair
At this odd restaurant...
"The Factory" it's name,
After that night,
I was never looked at the same....
Big shot, Big City....
It wasn't pretty....
The menu did start
Entrees priced more
Than my annual salary
And I'm confused
There's a boiler next to me!
So this Big City Buyer,
In his $99.00 suit
Ordered a shrimp cocktail,
Oh, what a hoot!
Like Studio 54
I had no idea
What I was in for!
Got my shrimp cocktail,
Oh, I do love my shrimp!
But the lemon wedge,
Was wrapped up
My mind now a' crimp
In this decorative yellow stuff,
All fit with a bow....
How do I open it, I wondered...
I wanted to know...
But I'm a Big Shot NYC Buyer,
Sure, I've seen it all....
How dare these dumb hicks...
Have such a gall!!
I took my fork,
I took my knike....
I started trying to open
This thing like....
It meant my very life!
I was struggling,
And frustrated and mad
Got some of the weirdest looks
I ever have had...
These Carolina Hicks...
Out to make a fool of me...
Slowly I realized
Everyone looking at me...
My boss's eyes swollen
How dumb his young buyer
Should be in a cornfield
And call himself "Town Crier"
Eventually I learned....
This stuff was called
Ridiculous I thought...
No cheddar or swiss
Like this had I ever bought...
In silence I remained
Through the rest of my meal....
To me the biggest embarrassment
To me the biggest deal....
Big City Hot Shot Buyer...
Dumb as a farm hand.....
Put in a Manhattan restaurant...
Without but a strand....
Of what was, what wasn't
Of how, and of why...
All I wanted to do
Is to crawl under a rock
(This is true!!!)
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008
‘ Devonshire and Fraser … ’ 44th Senryu
Some Poems, Highland Fling
Kilt-Clad-Portrait, Scotland’s Theme
The Laird of Sweet-Dreams
Devonshire, The Dove
A Vision Of Light and Love
Highland, Speaks Well Of …
Together They Write
All Combinations Delight
Deep Thinkings, With Might
For: The Dynamic-Duo of Poetry Soup
James Fraser and Carolyn Devonshire – ( 2 Scoops)
You’re In My Must Read Group …
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
Blame was burning in her eyes,
Flames were screaming out of head,
Tongue was a piece of flash,
But heart was pumping fast.
Body was lying on a bed,
Night was cuddling with her,
Dreams were scattering fast,
But she was helpless to touch them.
How can she stop someone’s mouth?
What had she done so wrong?
Her welcoming steps were weeping,
And crying for her coming home.
Father was ill and mother was old,
Husband was drunkard and idle,
When comes late at night,
Demand’s money from her family.
She thought to kill herself,
But her little child climbed to her feet,
Her jumping fire fell into a pool of tears,
And her feelings were damped.
Suddenly her husband came home,
And started to kicking her badly,
Her mouth starts to bleed,
And she fell down and crying with pain.
Child was only eight and watching quietly,
His father was lying on a bed,
He stabbed a knife in his chest,
Sun was arising and he was playing in dust.
Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2005
Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!
Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Look in to the sky above
When the night is clear
You will see something special
That is flying in the air
It looks like a space ship
Or could it truly be
An alien from outer space
That wants to come meet me
When I was a little girl
It did happen to me
An alien landed on my roof
So I went up to see
He talked a funny language
And looked a bit silly too
But I could tell he was a friend
And a friend good and true
He took me into outer space
So we could see a star
It was his home planet
We had flown quite far
There we could fly
And I had magic powers
I flew around the countryside
And played there for hours
Then it was time to go
Although this place was great
My mum and dad would worry
As it was getting late
He flew me to my bedroom
And said a long goodbye
I promised I would not be sad
But couldn’t help but cry
He said you can always see me
Just look into the sky
So this is not forever
So please don’t say goodbye
Its then that I awoke
Had it been a dream?
Was everything all imagined?
And not what I had seen?
And then I looked into the sky
And saw a streak of light
And a space ship in the distance
Fly off into the night
And behind a dim smoke trail
I could just make out what it had to say
“Don’t miss me just look up in the sky
I’m never far away”
Copyright © Nadine Hof | Year Posted 2007
WHO AM I
I am a bag of flesh and soul.
I am a figment of young and old.
I am a body of love and lust.
I am neither found nor lost.
WHO AM I?
I am A mix of cold and warmth.
I am a reflection of light and darkness.
I am a slight of linger and touch.
I am an apprentice and a master.
WHO AM I?
I am a mold of perfection and Flaws.
I am a Race of black and white.
I am a shroud of mystery and simplicity.
I am a produce of day and night.
WHO AM I?
I am a moment of confusion and clarity.
I am an agent of envy and admiration.
I am a mad man cladded in sanity.
I am a man of Justice and Corruption.
WHO AM I?
I am evolution and extinction.
I am he who shall emerge and extinguish.
I am a pillar of the life that glitters distinction.
I am a man in many for all to relinquish.
Written and edited by
Oyewole Abidemi En-classique.
Copyright protection upheld.
Copyright © abidemi oyewole | Year Posted 2014
L Long ago travelled Kings
O Opened their minds to prophecies
V Visiting from afar they brought gifts of Gold, Fracincense and Myrrh
E Eastern Star guiding them lighting the way
C Company of Heavenly Host
A Allelujah! Angels appeared to Shepherds, telling Savior born
M Manger for bed wrapped in cloths in Town of David
E Evangelically proclaimed Christ the Lord
D December 25th designated day
O On which we recollect
W Why/way Christ entered our world
N Nativity only part of His story
A A new testament
T Tells of new covenant between God and His people
C Christ's coming to Earth
H Hailed as new born King, Holy
R Risen Lord, righteous redeemer,
I Intercedes for us as
S Spiritual Saviour to save sinners souls
T Time for Truth, Trust, Trinity
M Man's belief in God of Love,
A As Father Son and Holy Spirit
S Shall be saved
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
India is a land full of festivities,
Lots of relaxation to the Indians surely it gives-
Most of these are ceremony leaves -
Some are due to great men's deeds.
All direction does it cheer-East,West,North,South,
It fills with sweets every big and small mouth,
The year begins with the New Year,
Every 'life' remains busy sending cards to nears and dears.
The 26th January follows-the day of our constitution,
The Gandhi Jayanti makes us realise the power of his non-violence vision.
The Saraswati Puja Specially for the students,
During which they pray for the result in the forthcoming examinations.
15th August is the day of glory,
The Indians on the graves of sacrifice respect garlands of flory.
5th September is celebrated as the Teachers's day,
This is the day when wisdom feels proud and gay.
The Ganesh Chaturthi,The Durga puja comes with the chill in the Autumn sky,
Joy seems unlimited ,time seems to fly;
Like the enjoyment a child gets on seeing a muticoloured butterfly;
Near and dear ones return home in flights-
When the sky is rent with dazzling 'Diwali Lights'.
Soon after a month-the festival X-mas fills us with lot of fun,
It comes when the weather cools the hot sun.
These are some and there's many others-
Which make our mind light as a feather.
The written festivals are some of the noted-
But there are so many that they can't be jotted.
Copyright © Sonnet Mondal World Poet | Year Posted 2008
Star Trek Rules!
It was time for: Comic Con! Comic Con! Dragon wanted to come, too!
But then so did everyone else at Troll Lake… Hey, now, wouldn’t you?
We made some really cool costumes… for the costume show, my Dear.
You can guess, ‘Star Trek Rules!’ It couldn’t be anything less, you hear.
Our favorite nighttime popcorn show, would truly now, become a part of our lives!
The penguins got permission from the zoo; to go… great publicity, so very wise.
McRacoon had his Las Vegas Dragons get us, and a mock saucer, there, all on time.
Naturally pre-registered and in costume, we strutted in! Hi there! Began the playtime!
Man we were really cool, as the guest actors ask for OUR autographs. For Real!
Pictures were snapped, and a poster made, to be signed by everyone, so cheerful.
It’s highest bid, given to charity, would be a nice touch, for everyone in our crew.
The costume show was set outside, where all the dragons, could fly in, or out, too.
And a small mock, star ship was landed on stage, so we could enter with more flare.
Lord a mercy! Look at us! We’d never be like this, again! We were like stars, I swear!
Grandpa Troll, became Mr. Spock, naturally, because he was so, very clever and wise.
Our neighbor witch, was Uhura, due to her great ability to, protect everyone’s’ lives.
Borp the Frog became Sulu, so he could take us up to Borp speed, with laser effects!
Hubby was Scotty, with the Tinker Trolls in engineering, for special effects, so perfect!
The penguins were the beloved crewmembers, running with lasers, all over the place.
The powder puff tribbles, got wet, so yes, became the ‘Trouble with Dribbles’, in space.
The Mary River Turtles wanted to be Checkov. What a groovy, exciting, security team.
Dragon wanted to be Captain Kirk, you know, like totally, in command… At the scene!
All agreed, I’d be a great Dr. McCoy, since I always get to, kiss the Boo- Boo’s away.
The Weird Frogs were the Aliens, chasing everyone mindlessly, around, the set, that day.
And the Las Vegas Dragons, became attacking star ships, over which our lasers won!
The crowds went wild, and we won first place in their hearts, as well as, in their minds!
Everyone had, such a good time, so the Trek continued, well after, when we got home.
That year Comic Con made the National news, and of course, nobody, was surprised!
As the residents of Troll Lake and Acorn Falls… continue to Trek on… every day!
By Mike and Carol Eastman…
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013
Black Pearl Pirate Ship versus Hurricane Bertha
August 9th 2014.
Liverpool was a mighty port
New Brighton stood by Perch Rock Fort
The Black Pearl sat on Wirral sands and stone
And against Hurricane Bertha stood alone
Bertha howled and shrieked anew
A massive wind that blew and blew
Waves and tides lashed at Black Pearl
But could not unseat this ungainly girl
Her wood and flotsam together held
As the hurricane's fury unfurled
And threw at her all that it had
But could not wrest Pearl from her pad
Earlier Pearls had sadly succumbed
To other winds and tides and storms
But this Black Pearl finally won
And Wirral's wonder remained undone
Noddy and his motley crew
Had taken precautions and had paid their due
And now as calm is once more restored
Everyone can get on board
Fix her up for all the kids to see
(From 2 years old to seventy)
Copyright © Thomas Mansfield | Year Posted 2014
An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war
A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying
Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
long life, his number one ambition
As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed
The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late
Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right
Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right
Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight
Copyright © Mac McGovern | Year Posted 2010
Because of a jackknifed tractor-trailer up ahead,
vehicles on this highway has been stopped cold dead.
The radio traffic report came on a little late.
That is the reason for my ignominious fate.
I had to use the highway to get to the liquor store.
I ran out of beer, so I had to get some more.
Therefore, I will be stuck here for quite some time.
The way some people drive seems like a big crime.
Wait a minute! I see a female that is sublime.
She is in a little foreign job a few cars from me.
This attractive redhead appears as cute as can be.
Hello there carrot top! Yes, I am talking to you!
Why don’t you come over here and have yourself a brew?
Copyright © Robert Pettit | Year Posted 2012
This is the best beer I've ever had.
Yes, The best beer I've ever had.
No beer is really bad, but
This is the best beer I’ve ever had.
Beer’s invention was accidental I’m told.
Something about stored grain and mold.
Before the Sphinx, beer was made and sold;
And at times, more valuable than gold.
Drank my first beer while serving Uncle Sam.
Got drunk on ‘33' in Saigon, Vietnam.
By 19, I was a soldier becoming a man;
So, I drank ‘til I didn’t give a damn.
Since then, I’ve travelled the world all around;
And tasted each brew that I’ve found.
Most are named for people, animals or towns;
And are glorious shades of gold, red or brown.
There are pilsners, lagers and ales
Swilled from bottles, cans, mugs…even pails.
If you want to get drunk, you can’t fail.
Drink too much, you may end up in jail.
Drank Stegmaier in old Scranton town.
Folks bragged it was the "best around“.
I tried their Golden, their Porter, their Brown;
And I must say, their judgement is sound.
In Ireland, the Guinness is Stout.
‘Tis a brew those Micks can’t live without.
In the pubs, they all sing and shout;
Until, eventually, they're all drunken louts.
In old Germany, there are too many to choose.
Every Berg and Stein make their own brews.
I tried each one on the Rhine river cruise.
So many to taste. How could I lose?
I enjoyed Sapporo in Tokyo, Japan;
Served by a Geisha at the wave of my hand.
The Singh Hai in Bangkok was grand,
As was the Ninkasi in ancient Tehran.
Tried a lager called Foster’s down under.
Drank too many. My head pounded like thunder.
They say Foster's once laid Dundee asunder;
But they love it… though you may wonder.
Enjoyed Red Stripe on Jamaican shores
And each one tasted like more.
A local beauty I was hoping to score;
But next morning, my head was so sore.
Henry Hudson’s serves Budweiser Light.
It’s weak, so you can drink it all night.
Yes, it takes quite a bit to get “tight”;
But it’s cheap and that makes it alright.
Yes, beer is a beverage so grand,
One of God's greatest gifts to man.
When life gets too tough to stand,
Just open a chilled bottle or can.
This is the best beer I’ve ever had.
When I arrived I was down and quite sad;
After just two or three, life isn't so bad.
This is the best beer I’ve ever had.
Yes, the best beer I've ever had.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
A kestrel dips into an updraft
thinking he knows the world
through silent valleys
around the earth
through the wind
The creature soars ever higher
in great swoops and dives
the horizon curves as it eludes vision
the stars pulse their siren
but thrill denies
their ambient warning
Gust to gust each fades
quicker than the last
whispers carry the weight of wings
and their soulful song breaches sanity
prayers of rightful good
where petty purple banners
crest twinkling hearts
The last thermal ridden
last lyric dies
as flight’s drone fades
upturned wings alone
the sky empty oblivion
as the sun aligns its beady eye
to the looping path of the bird
Two brittle forms
grapple in light
which blots out the senses
what can never be touched
smites the naive bird
an archangel buried
in a crypt
six feet deep.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
Love is a wonder
shared by one another
it's the only reason
I'm not six feet under
Love in which I believe
in a will to sustain
I give back to life, now
in dormant states of pain
The power of Love
may not alone be enough
locked inside my dreams
escape only from above
higher than any human being
has ever gone before
I must have evolved
rise above hate, great once more
My Father taught me wisdom
I am imprisoned no longer
now an beast not of burden
I am no lion, I am stronger
on my shoulder sits twin dragons
long awaiting the day
evil forces come forth to
take what Love is left, away
A Hero of Love light
are what the world needs
angels, not demons
exist where ever you believe
follow your heart's direction
and you shall achieve
objects of affection
rid of materialistic greed
My bright energy
has awakened to a fire
never consuming the source
as the flames just grow higher
that is the desire
of a product we call Love
Fear, the counterpart
what I was once made of
I am slowly learning
how to win when my peace
is harder to sharpen
so I have given my pen leave
the sword has its uses
I must say I believe
to vanquish the evil
in the minds too diseased
to serve any purpose
except their own selfish ones
tomorrow a new day
in the clarity of the sun
where we two are now one
and one done now does
bring about a great change
lit by the righteousness of Love.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
slip n' slide white moon
space cadets glide in the shine
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked.
Copyright © Darian Brown | Year Posted 2013
How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.
He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.
But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.
But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.
I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.
Voice of Reason Contest
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
Oh well here I go again,
wishin for a dream that I could be wrapped in,
torn away from addiction,
destroy the tele…
vision they strive to force upon you,
its all false but you know I’m true.
They will not protect you when you scream your broken cries,
they are merely evil faces of masked men behind illuminati eyes
with which they hypnotize,
brainwash you with their lies.
I've got those deep thoughts pouring in,
all the roads I've traveled down
conditions I have traveled in
here in my pretty town,
the 910 deserves a crown.
East Coast I'm representing,
I promise you I am not venting.
High on that purple haze,
And still haven't slept for days,
excuse these bloodshot eyes
with a krispy kreme glaze,
some will try to say its just a silly phase...
My mind is so graphic,
use words like special tactics,
unmistakable like D'Jango,
or a peace signs' angle,
destroy the crave for war and struggle,
no need to explain all the trouble,
with places burstin’ into rubble,
Rebel! Rebel! We’ll show ‘em hell!
I’ll be fightin’ when I'm dead,
kick and scream till my blood is shed,
let authorities know the message will be spread!
Put on a show with a little bit of passion
or the bad things will continue to happen.
Get the love through your head,
all this hatred should be dead,
what I'm saying must be said,
before the gauge goes into red.
With vocabulary this brilliant makes a female more vigilant,
like brothers boston what I speak
my words alone will make you weak, make you faint,
Like blood spilled by hands of a vigilante saint,
trust me lifes too short,
you dont have the time my young cohort,
wait until your words make an enemy
cause their threatened by the uncertainty
that you will make it this far
make a point unlike this war
next thing you know you see ‘em sweat
words fresh like paint drippin with purpose,
makin ‘em wet.
I finger paint a master piece with a just simple rhyme,
just don't pull your piece on me just let me speak, my mind,
while I unwind, rewind all this blasphemy,
I may have to beg and plead so that my boys can rest in peace
sorry for the interruption,
don’t blame me for the corruption,
for now I'll put my words at ease,
hope you told someone you loved them today and that it wasn't a white lie,
just a tease.
Copyright © Andrea Rose | Year Posted 2013