lady of the night
performs tricks in an alley....
father taught her well
strange it was there just the other day
hanging about as usual,
reminding me in my mirrored image
of my definite femininity
now gone, am I less of a woman?
will you look at me differently,
or strangely as I do myself?
I never really gave it much thought before
of how things come in pairs
how lonely one would be without the other
how misshaped one appears,
no longer jutting forward,
thrusting into the limelight,
now scars and a flattened ego,
fill my robe, bras useless without stuffing
men, look at me in horror,
women in shock and pity
and with gratitude, yes that it is not them
my left breast is missing
no not missing, taken, stolen...
it was just a lump a few weeks ago
a tiny pea shaped knob,
that hid its cancerous intentions
so very well, yet lay in silence waiting
to steal away that part of me
that defined who I was
what purpose I served in society
am I still a woman, a sexual being?
I'm not sure, my right breast thinks so
but yearns for its mate,
the image in the mirror just doesn't seem right
unequal in its proportions, glaringly lopsided
my left breast is gone, surgically removed
I can still hear its scream
Belt in hand
Red of face
Eyes bulging into space
The children scatter every place
His temper is in full bloom
They know they will pay for it soon
Tiny hands and tear stained faces
They silently pray from their hiding places
"Someone, anyone, please come and protect them" they plead
"For if not soon they will bleed"
The father rises and calls to each one
And so it has begun
Tenatively each steps forward
Knowing their fate
With a sadistic gleam in his eye
The belt finds it's mark
On soft skin, it leaves it's stark welts
Tears flowing fast
Live rivers in spring
The terrified kids can do nothing
On and on he punishes them
Until they lay like broken toys
They lie so still
But he continues to enforce his will
There is no help
And worst of all
This isn't the end
Tomorrow it all begins again!
We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)
Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.
Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
The stones settle,
Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.
We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner, for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:
"Honey, are you alright?"
(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)
There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-
boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...
And then serenity.
The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.
"I'm here now... and you're ok."
We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.
No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,
but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...
where the seagull dies
stringless origami cries
loneliness of soul
koi fish suffocate
colors fade in Bonsai trees
island in distress
words not understood
shadows grin tricks on rice walls
tsunamis in eyes
geisha of the world
love is lost in illusions
freedom is her dream
men with cold fingers
whither blossom of her spring
in the seagull's grave
origami secrets kept
chicks learn how to fly
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.
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
Page unwritten hand never to be
Outcasts sitting at center stage.
When you never showed love.
It's no need to question why no one ever stayed.
And you never wondred and new better
Cause people grew tired of the game.
And you of the mask.
Deep emotin with which like
overgrown children we play.
Gone in a second.
Was it love or just another day.
Torn sails endless flow.
Blocks and miles.citys and backroads.
Like any flock we scatter.
Only to lose track the futher we go.
Dellusion speaks well amongnst friends.
You see it's the last farewell.
But with truth in are thoughts
Are you okay everyone does ask.
You give a expected reply.
And slip into oblivian slowley
fading behind your mask.
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....
I do not know?
With every cut she makes.
She loses herself deeper within the pain.
Cutting taking pills to keep numb.
Hididng scars under long sleves.
Blending in praying never to stick out.
She wishes to be invisable within the halls.
Avioding eye contact with the popular crowd.
hiding in plain sight.
A worn composition book bares the agony
of her teenage years.
Every scar holds a untold story.
Past flings with false promises of hope.
Dark shirts and darker thoughts.
She lives in a prison yet has no dellusion of release.
Red stains the ivory skin.
She feels the pains warmth only to
feel it fade again.
Head down like a ghost she
does vanish in the crowd.
Slicing into the flesh to bring
warmth to the cold empty shell.
Every page speaks of angst with a sweet
passion filled twist.
Misery of many held by few.
Scars of her time.
Marking every moment and year.
Cutting for a escape.
She's stuck in a sea of people.
Wishing to be anywhere but here.
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
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
Imagine lakes of dreams
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose
Or touch another soul
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this
Because that's what life brings.
Am I man or ghost?
Am I mortal or apparition?
Questions or choices
or entwined reality?
For a state of confusion
sleeps within my fiber, and
slowly rips asunder, the final
sliver of my contemporary humanity,
Sunrises and sunsets go unseen,
as I fully embrace my departure
from time, human contact, and connection,
with a creative conviction and devotion
to my only passion as an excuse, a deceitful
reason to shelter myself from the tender
moments that keep emotions empowered
and empathy evolved,
Yet truth is untied by introspection,
and as I analyze, I accept reality,
Seclusion has become to me, the
fruit that protects the emotional
body but imprisons the loving mind,
and by this bittersweet conundrum,
I am bound and devoted to this ambivalence,
by the mere comfort and promise of
And by such a promise, I have
personified my fear of emotional
agony, yet tamed its risk with the
fierce whip of isolation, thus the shame
and allure become as one, And as I
lose who I was, and tolerate who I am,
my disconnection from humanity
hurts those who care, yet keeps me
safe, with ink as my final outlet,
Still, as I sacrifice need for need,
I am not the one who still suffers,
Those with hearts that beat for me,
have become victims of my seclusion,
and I ache for them, but less and less
with each breath, For my isolation
continues to force its fee, and I notice
only after it is taken, and as I see their pain,
Only my thoughts are heard, my wishes
important, and my contentment decreed,
And despite visions of tears and sorrow
that were once my salvation, Now, I
only look away, and remain a willing
prisoner in the sweet self shelter, of
the nothingness I show, and will one day
feel, without rue...
Work is unending, when we work to survive
The fruits of our labors, so others can thrive
Through toil and torment, ever larger the stacks
Are the blocks of our burden, Held square on our backs
War is forever, when no tears are shed
The leaders of men see more nameless dead
Call out to charge, relentless attack
While the weight of the lost falls square on our backs
So low a worlds opinion, when they view us from afar
Believing that our leaders, portray just who we are
Power hungry, evil. A mind of just one tract
In time the repercussions will surely break our backs
This isn't just a poem
This isn't just another emotion
This is me, these are my thoughts
The Imagery is my sight,
And The Allegories are my Life
I'm lonely, There is just me
But there's so many people around
but no one can hear my loudest screams
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
I'm torn, I'm Cut
Part of my heart stabbed,
and then taken from me
The Search for my innocence,
Is like a moa hunt
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
Laughing and Jokes
all directed towards me
Just to Hurt me
Cover all of the Halls
"Fag, Emo, Queer"
Words I too often know
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
Curling her hair
putting on her makeup
"You're worthless and nothing to Me"
Says the so-called all-loving-one
As she screams:
"Why am I not Pretty"
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
This is not just a poem
not just some words
my pen cries with each words
But this is Just a Glimpse
Don't Shout nor Scream
This is all just Normal To Me
“WHAT IS A SAD DAY IN AMERICA?”
It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up every day worrying about being
black, educated and female.
It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up every day and there is a new battle.
It is a “Sad Day” in America when you wake up living on the outside of the
American Dream, but you live within America and you have nightmares about
walking in the shoes of another race in your view.
It is a “Sad Day” in America when Civil Rights begin to regress over 40 years.
It is a “Sad Day” in America when you have to worry about what religion or
denomination you belong too.
It is a “Sad Day” in American when the words “I can” in the word American does
not represent “I can because I am free.”
Instead it becomes an obstacle because others continue to suppress me---
because of my race, religion, sex, ability or disability?
It is a “Sad Day” in America when we accept mediocracy.
It is a “Sad Day” in America when we cannot accept our fellow man or fellow
It is a “Sad Day” in America when others cannot hear or see.
It is a “Sad Day” when we can no longer show empathy.
It is a “Sad Day” when all we do is “nothing”.
The “Glorious Day” will come when we learn the history of others, walk with
others by empathizing with others and consider ourselves brothers and sisters
in “One America”, one fight, one battle, one love-- until that time “it is” and “will
be” a “Sad Day” in America.
copyright@2006 by Carrie M. Love-Atkins
to change the charter of rights , to make claims and take from victims white collar criminals secrets lies against ones that entrusted them hateful actions and words these men shared for reasons of secondary gains losses of ours are placed in ther trust and no one will act against them terrorized and destitute
, wrongfully done gangs criminals not right or allow them to do this to act against all rules and laws charters dscrimiaion hatred prejudices , soon to take over
secrets and lies if they can take point and blame you too may be next in line
happened to me without rights and hated and lost and lied to no rights
what is ours and rights insurances proerties all taken an used in this lawyers own legal fees , and lies about the actual amount
believe in god and have faith one day their actions will be transarent and all wil see how this can not bring us back to the days before human rights the the charter of rights right and wrong above the laws ca not be done by these lawyers or any man we all have to respect and believe in god , and in justice system. for all every man woman and child .
and not treated like i had died.
I do not know?
Where does my conscious go, when demons raise their fiery eyes,
They steal my very soul, killing all which is sanctified,
Engulfed by instant fears, no longer hearing loved ones cries,
The beast within appears, telling me I am justified,
I have already lost, no reprieve from my mortal sin,
All reason now is blocked, as I become the beast within,
No pity can I feel, as I make my grandiose stand,
Yes the horror is real, as I destroy all that I can,
Where do my feelings go, when demons raise their snarling lips,
Bringing an all new low, into my life now torn to bits,
Certain of being right, I flail and thrash as if in fits,
I threaten and I strike, with great fury the demon spits,
Yet I still stand and shout, my ugly hate and derision,
Accusing lies said out loud, revolting words - degradation,
Just look at what I’ve done, I scream my blatant confession,
Ready to blame anyone, for my evil molestation,
Where does my true love go, when demons raise their gruesome head,
Destroying all I know, without slightest hesitation,
There is no where to hide, hideous deeds - infinite dread,
Shame crushes senseless pride, nothing left but devastation,
Recoiling in horror, reality enters the room,
Now begins the torture, judgment of my now mortal soul,
The evil that is me, my conscious has become my tomb,
I look and all I see, marks my spirit and takes its toll,
Where does salvation go, when demons raise their awful screech,
Making damnation grow, as dark shadows envelope me,
How can I persevere, and escape from this demon’s reach,
For he is always near, and may kill eventually,
Cold and chilling insight, I now realize what is at stake,
And the one path which might, protect the ones I truly love,
But how can I just leave, this world I worked so hard to make,
And cause even more grief, for family and God above.
Where does my resolve go, when demons raise their deadly claws,
Tearing at all I know, stealing my conscious care and pride,
I can’t run anymore, all is destroyed everything lost,
Now beaten tired and sore, I’ve lost my path into the light,
Who can I reach out to, when all I love recoil in fear,
Eyes beseech black and blue, where once was love - now only hate,
Yes I know - I’m the cause, the reason for each falling tear,
And while demons give pause, I must face my terrible fate.
How Can We Hurt The Ones We Love?
How can we hurt the very ones that we love?
How can we easily neglect our God above?
It seems like I often heard about many victims
Many times, it’s from a loved one who’s been with them!
The hate and the anger that boils from deep within.
Often “boils over” toward our family and friends.
It’s the love of Christ that we need to find!
His love can totally cleanse our life and mind!
The hearts of many families are bruised and broken.
By the harshness of many of the words spoken.
If we would allow Jesus to rule and reign.
We’d have little reason to murmur or complain.
If we would yield our lives to the master’s will…
The emptiness and brokenness, he shall fulfill!
If we could allow ourselves to sit at Jesus’ feet…
He can make any family totally complete!
If we could just listen to what Christ has to say.
His words of life would brighten our day!
As a family… Won’t you give HIM a chance?
And allow his love to change your circumstance!
Won’t you allow his spirit to bind you together?
You can experience his peace today and forever!
He can change your family throughout!
This is his will and what God is all about!
By Jim Pemberton
Have You Been Hurt By “Religion”?
Are you tired of “religious people”
knocking at your door?
You wish they’d leave... “You can’t take it anymore!”
Have you been hurt by “church people” sometime in the past?
Somehow they hurt you... And the pain continues to last…
Have you been “wounded” by something
somebody has said?
Perhaps you wonder if “they wish you were dead…”
Perhaps there’s someone that you
may have “befriended…”
They have done something that
has hurt you and “offended.”
There’s probably many people that you wish would “go away.”
Because of something they’ve
done to “darken your day.”
I’ve been there many times… Believe me I know.
How someone’s actions or words can hurt your soul.
Even those who go to church are
often not very kind.
And they don’t hesitate to
give you “a piece of their mind.”
Religion is not the answer. Look to Jesus
and the life he gives!
He alone has the power to love
and completely forgive!
It’s only in his shed blood that you can find atonement.
He can change your life now! This very moment!
He can heal your broken heart and wounded spirit.
An everlasting joy and love... He freely gives it!
He can do what no “church” or “religion” could ever do
He can restore your life today.
And make you BRAND NEW!!!
By Jim Pemberton
Looks like rain, the old girl said,
As the sky broke stars and bled,
And the clouds all turned black with the swell;
The dingy streets were dim and grey,
The shadow people drained away,
And it seemed as though the town was going to hell.
Looks like rain, the people cried,
As the shop fronts closed and died
And the best days ground abruptly to a halt;
The fairground rides fell still,
And the view from up the hill
Was of streetlights suffocating in a vault.
Looks like rain, I wryly thought,
Just before the first onslaught
Of machinery oiled and primed for tearing down;
With the clanking chains and drilling
Someone made a quick-fire killing
By ripping out the heart from this old town.
Looks like rain, you sweetest child,
I know I muttered as I smiled,
And the oil-paint textures watered in your eyes;
Our own history set to burning
As the wheels they kept on turning,
In the hallowed name of progress I surmise.
In my heart there’s no longer
loneliness from longing for love.
Finally found someone to love,
but he is my silent sorrow manifest.
In my chest there’s still even now
a prolonging lonesomeness.
Finally found somewhere to live,
but it is my isolating incubation erect.
In my head there’s still me, myself,
and I comforting my lonely heart.
Finally found someway to befriend,
but they are my persona’s karma manifest.
In my soul there’s no longer
loneliness from longing for love.
Finally found some truth of whom I am,
but my heart’s still filled with loneliness.
So I see how cruel life may be in a minute,
All around people’s faces gleam & glare
At my gloomy face but never see my net.
And I cry and cry and cry to get ‘em fair.
From times past, I knew of what may be
The finale of this sweet short time gained;
But now it comes with great dismay, to me.
With thoughts of melancholy stained.
Am losing my job to my brother,
I teach him my work as a father
Does to his sons and to the other,
He knows not my hearts as they gather.
They give a life, a life they can’t retain,
They offer me a choice, a choice not mine;
They lead me to the grave, to bury me and the ten;
But they in turn smile and smile as they dine
And so I see that they are not to be
The people I perceive may little see,
My serene into whirlwind occur to me
At a peek and glaze and short see.
Whatever the Asian will decide,
However I cope with them all,
I implore all the good to side
With me as evil entirely will fall.
Hidden for so long,
Because of Society.
Someone, no one knows!
I have danced while music played,
and smiled, although despairingly,
through tears at smiles not meant for me.
My soft eyes, though brown and drab,
have strived to glitter, with scant success,
as others shone bright, reflecting light
beneath their lashes, lush and long.
While I lurched in crazy drunken spirals,
others, precise, performed their pirouettes
and slid across the polished floor
and smiled and laughed and more:
completely at their ease.
What terminal disease decrees
despair my partner in this dance?
Is there no chance to sit the music out,
a listener, discrete, devout?
While others whirl and dip, I slide and slip.
Must I be a half-a-pair with stumbling feet,
inept novice, graceless lout who, led about,
never has an easy air dancing with despair?
Nero was a cruel, unfair emperor playing
the lyre as his disguise to conceal his consuming guilt;
and he caused destruction without feeling
an ounce of pity for those he governed with distrust.
Why did he want to destroy a city so mighty and glorious,
and replace it with a Golden Palace and magnificent gardens?
It seems inconceivable, but it was confirmed by many as the Great Fire
which ravaged Rome for six horrible days...who dared to call Nero a liar?
On the rooftop, with the widest view of Rome burning underneath,
Nero played the lyre as his disguise...singing,"The destruction of Troy" with derision.
And while looking so innocent and sad, he did nothing to control it;
wasn't his madness an evident sign of that contemplated act brought to completion?
Finding the scapegoats was too easy for him, to cover up his evil deed...
he blamed the Christians and had them thrown to the beasts of the Colosseum,
but many more were crucified along the Via Appia and was Nero appeased?
No, he still continued to play the lyre as his disguise with increased delirium.
What remains when life is gone
And arrows lodge against my heart?
Who will sing the warrior's song,
When now your voice is torn apart?
How do I go on from here
In darkness stark and bare?
I look upon my naked fear,
But you're not here to care.
The sun has set, I stand alone
My warrior shield in shreds;
Your horse has run, now free to roam,
And I face nightmare's dread.
How can I live upon this land
Without the hawk's pure cry?
For I am now a conquered man,
No more does courage fly.
What remains when life is lost
And one I loved is gone;
How can God support this cost,
Who hears your warrior's song?
I wish someone would explain
To me how we can spend
Billions of tax dollars
On space exploration
When we can’t even figure
Out how to erase hunger
Who sets our priorities anyway?
Could someone please tell me
How it is we have the research dollars
Dedicated solely to the detriment
And destruction of whole cultures
But we’ve no way of curing
AIDS, Cancer, or the common cold?
Who’s in charge here?
Can anyone give me the reason
Why society insists on medical advances
In plastic surgery while so many
Still can’t afford basic healthcare
And die because of it?
Where is our leader?
How is it that we can find Jupiter,
Study its molecular structure,
But still can’t find an answer
For alternative fuel sources?
Is everyone sleeping?
While we continue to battle
For world-wide sovereignty,
Our own people collapse.
What happened to integrity?
Is there hope
For the next seven generations?
God, I hope so.