In The Desert
In the desert walks a man with no name
within its barren sands he seeks no fame
Survival is his only wish and only game
all burns, sticks or crawls nothing is tame
The rattlesnakes strike with poison gifts
nothing soothes, quenches or uplifts
A heat that singes as it burns on down
Rarely, if ever relief from a cloudy gown
Yes, O' yes, beauty does still hide here
found only if he can conquer his great fear!
note: Fear of the danger a desert presents often clouds
the beauty lying within. A proper emergency plan is a must
when entering a desert.
Food, water and a compass are just the basic start..
Robert J. Lindley, Contest- In The Desert , 09-14-2014
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
To be in a young America ~
visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July
thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen
films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain
exciting new visions of creating new concepts
before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see
The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood
American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom
How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?
When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles
Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream
leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time
Cereal being a cheap snack for after school
school supplies costing twenty dollars
Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty
before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~
2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp
Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question
The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice
Never forgetting our Motor city
Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye
What happened to us ? Where did America Go ?
Over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew,
night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter.
Night carved the tender image of two souls breathing together,
and it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise;
we watched the stars come much closer and get brighter,
we pondered the new mystery...so distant was the sunrise.
And it united them with deep passion and a solemn promise
as a memory which can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
we pondered the new mystery...so distant was the sunrise;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon.
As a memory that can't be easily erased or even forgotten,
our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss;
in awe we stood, while we could no longer see the horizon...
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness.
Our minds remembered the tenderness of each hug and kiss,
to delight themselves until the sky turned dark blue;
the nightingales came to listen and learn words of sweetness...
over the tranquil place where love suddenly grew.
From the Gardens of Babylon,
to the walkways of Palestina,
to the grand temples of Jerusalism,
to the sandy beaches of Syria and Cyprus.
Went my Persian Queen riding,
upon her golden, firery chariot.
Her black hair, like silk long and flowing.
Her royal robes white and purple, bare and pure.
Her sword by her side, ready to strike.
Her spear fastened, ready to stab the dreeded heart
of the Fire Dragon.
On the firery chariot, riding with her armies,
Went my Perisan Queen.
O, how my arimes fight your armies,
in the midst of night fall, under a full moon.
Let us stop this foolish fighting.
And have fellow brother, love fellow brother.
And so we can fall in love forever.
And don't act like you don't show love for me.
I see you in the dawns, standing upon the sand covered battlefields.
Standing proud behind your armies.
With your black hair flowing.
You almost making me want not to fight the battle of the Day,
for if you were killed, what victory would that be then?
You pull your armies back at the last minute, before I am slayed
by your fellow brother in arms.
You retreat your arimes back over the hills, not in fear of losing the day,
but in fear of losing me.
You and your armies had plenty of chances to kill me, yet you do not.
My Persian Queen, O come now.
Come down from your firery chariot
and into my restless arms.
I know you are tired
and wanting to sleep.
Listen to the nightingale
sing her love song.
Drinking the sweet necture,
from the gardens, in your vase Persian Empire.
Come now, and kiss me,
Hold me, let us ride,
far from the simple minds of the Old World
and fall in love in a New.
My Persian Queen
O how I love you so much.
I cannot bare to see you in a life you don't want to live.
Come let I, your Knight in shinning armour liberate you.
Take you by the hand, run through the great bazzare in Old Istanbul
running away from the Janissaries of your father's Imperial armies.
Let us leave this place of hate and sorrow.
To start our lives a new.
My Persian Queen,
Now dressed in silk lace,
with golden jewlery hanging
from your beautiful and tender neck.
Along with the silver pattened belt around your harmonial waist.
It is time for you, to come with me.
No more shall we act like we dispise one another.
As Romeo and Juliet's love failed,
shall our love take course, and we shall love
till the oceans swallow the earth, the mountains crumble,
and the Sun engulf the sweet Earth.
And on and on shall our love go on,
My adorable and lovely Persian Queen.
Like a nomad trespassing border’s edge,
I rip moonlight’s seeds apart ; drain the pulp
of my creamed bosoms, shapeless—
meandering along tracks of notes and interludes
so orange, strangely orange
in near Autumn's fuming light. And as the hollow
of a world dilutes unfinished refrains
through dances untamed,
my lips turn midnight into a wayward trance.
I was so close to the language of myself,
this navel unbuttoned and numb
by aimless wanderings still, still...
I took absence of me.
Somehow, the husk of November slowly unwraps
my flesh incandescent, as if to burn the oil,
to give a name to lapses of unravelled
trails. The delicacy of soil nourishes my thighs,
anchored once more
unto the swell of awakening. I stayed away
a tad long in some vacant space
without food for womb only transients like me
could bear…a lull perhaps that compels
a mouth to feed on the nectar of life’s ‘now’,
ploughing my arms back to seeds’ core
where my inner place resides.
Contest:Know Your PLace of Drake Eszes
One more alien... an extra terrestrial. Bloody foreigners.
There’s a Web of Temptation and Sin!
There’s a web of temptation and a lot of sin…
That brings slavery and a strong bondage within!
Throughout this land, there’s an evil surge!
While many lives, seem to be getting “submerged!”
Being submerged, into a life, that many believe in.
They become perverted, but want all to receive them!
The “love and acceptance,”
that many desire.
Puts them on a tightrope! A very thin wire!
As the web of temptation and sin begin to grow.
It brings a bondage that damages the soul!
They may want to have “love and acceptance.”
But in their hearts, needs to be a godly repentance!
May the holiness of a righteous God be stirred!
That all will come back, to the truth of his word!
His son Jesus, came to the cross! He bled and died!
That through him, our lives can be totally sanctified!
Only the power of God, can bring a needed restoration!
He gives to one and all…
A heavenly invitation!
Whosoever will… Come now! And accept him!
Won’t you take the time, to really know him?
Don’t allow the web of life to destroy
and overcome you!
Come to Jesus now! He really does
By Jim Pemberton
Is It God We Trust? Or Leave In the Dust?
As our courts remove God from this great nation.
We are left with a confused and lost generation!
As God is taken away from our public schools.
A huge tide of immorality is what “rules.”
The Bible is often mocked and discarded.
It was on it’s principles this country was started!
Just about anything of God seems to get scorned.
So many “rush” to worship many ungodly forms.
As God’s name is often tossed and thrown out.
We tend to forget what HE is all about!
Too often, his plans for living are tossed and abused.
No wonder, there’s many who are lost and confused!
As people forget God and worship the fallen creature.
They look to themselves and “glorify” their features.
Many ignore God, and get involved in deep addictions.
And with this, come disease,
heartache and afflictions!
As God looks and sees this nation “bleeding.”
It’s his righteousness, that we need to be seeking!
If we would humble ourselves, he would hear our prayer!
He loves all of us! And he really does care!
Won’t you come to HIM, And invite him in?
Won’t you allow him to be your master and friend?
He brings strength and nourishment to the soul!
It’s only in him that we can be made whole!
By Jim Pemberton
Byron’s life was full of fire
Some from passion’s strong desires
Some from temper, child spoiled--
Too much paper--desk embroiled
But he suffered sacred fire
Shelley’s wretched funeral pyre
On strange shores his friend succumbed
Drowned so far away from home
Fighting valiant-- Greeks allied
Keeping paper by his side
Used a fire to keep warm--
Daunting rain that did him harm
After death friends burned B’s words
What a shock if people heard
Thoughts that Byron dared to write
Deeds he carried through by night
Thus his words sung to the flames
Protecting friends from nasty names--
Luck-charmed chimney to embrace
Ash-thoughts of man so wrong defaced.
Victoria Anderson-Throop 12/03/12 ©
Juja, Kenya Africa
I stumbled drunkenly through Stroud
Passed the kebab van on the hill,
When all at once I saw a crowd
Of ladettes – taunting the old bill;
Just for a lark, just for a wheeze,
Flirting and dancing, dressed to tease.
Bedecked with bling, drinking cheap wine,
A clowder of cats out to play,
Perfume and bags by Calvin Klein
All you can eat slapper buffet.
Looking for violence not romance,
Tossing the V’s in fighting stance.
The plods approached askance, as they
Ignored them and crouched down to pee;
The deluge nearly washed away,
The council’s prized floral display!
I gazed – amazed - at just how short;
Their skirts were and indeed how taut.
Often now – I sit down and cry
(Sometimes it puts me off my food)
When I recall what I did spy
The female form so crass and rude;
Those harpies in search of cheap thrills,
Stooped - pissing on the daffodils.
(apologies to Mr Wordsworth)
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown
If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view
And so, I have made up my mind, once more.
I have decided to depart, to bid this husk farewell.
In order to do that, I must save coins if I desire to save myself.
For with it, I will be able to buy my ticket out here to a more blessed realm or the eternal void. Either way, I will be winning.
I mustn't, any longer, feel the starvation of affection and no more I shall be fed by the crumbs of fleeting joy they toss at me.
Thoughts of finishing are always in my mind, flooding it, making hard to go day by day, making hard to sleep, to have hope.
I fail to see where the hope is, I like to think that it can be find inside of one's heart.
But even so, I think I am mistaken, and when I glance at myself in the mirror, I quickly lose any spark of what could-be hope.
With the aid of the metallic sling, I shall leave this husf behind, heavy with its sins and sorrows, to no more nourish hatred.
For it does only to hinder my advance towards elevation.
With my metallic sling, I shall pierce, first, my heart, where lies the sorrow, then, my mind, where resides the sins.
Whilst the life in me start to wane, regrets I will not have, when my consciousness fade, my spirit will be no longer be trapped inside this imperfect cage of flesh.
Being free, my spirit shall roam far and beyond to, before, unseen places by men, to untouched places by men.
Another day,someone inquired me "Are you happy now?" and for that I just said "Yes". How else could I have responded if not with a lie?
How could I tell them that I yearn for a premature closure in order to stop thinking and feeling but I also yearn for love.
"I am not absolutely happy, as per say, but I do suffer less when I am asleep" I could never say that to anyone...
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men
We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge
Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.
The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.
I walked upon the road
Towards an old house on a hill
The gate was rusted, broken
Its hinges creaked in the summer wind
The path was filled with flowers and wild grass
The house looked empty, shuddered up in fear
I walked up this path of broken dreams
To peer into the windows
They were shattered, sagging, and tattered
This house on a hill, called to me
Come see all that used to be
And I could not resist this calling
Of what may have become of me
A Lady in white, sat upon an ottoman chair
Her Swedish braids, her smile, in her den and lair
She opened her finger, and in silence said come in
She offered up a Smörgåsbord of dreams unfulfilled
Her smile was filled with shattered dreams
For the house was soulless an empty
She lived in the past, a mere ghost of the moment
As she rose up from her chair, and kissed the night
I touched her cheek, softly, in the candle light
She was cold, skeletons and bone
She sang a song, of joy and passions told
She weaved about, in a seductive fashion
She was a ghost of long lost love
I closed my eyes
In this old house
Melancholy memories floating away
Full of regrets, in a midnight sun
She sang her last song............
Our last summer
I do not know?
He says he loves me then he says he loves me not
He loves me today but by tomorrow I'm forgot
He runs from my love but returns wanting more
I guess I'm to blame for letting the traveler explore,
See travellers just wander and are never here to stay
They admire the scenery and enjoy the display
They tour the land and ride the attractions
So memories become their only subtractions,
They search for an experience that is what they yearn
The condition once they leave is none of their concern!
So how can the land be devoted and true
When travellers come and go out of the blue.
The present is now and where he's travelled to,
But the past he calls home so he must return soon
Most likely just a visit although time can only tell,
But what he lusts is in this land and he knows it very well
He may call that place home but its this land that he seeks
Travellers on a mission never realize until they hit their peek
He continues to damage this land down to its core
So what's left to offer when their is nothing left in store?
The resources were depleted and the land left bare
He comes and goes as he pleases it doesn't seem fair;
See this land has been abused time and time again
Seeds that were planted, were means to an end
But pleasure and satisfaction was always accomplished
Because this land provided where the homeland was disadvantaged!
But despite the history and despite the trust
Submit to his urges is something he must.
So this time around his departure is permanent
Lack of faith and loyalty was the final determinant.
The damage he caused cannot be rendered,
So his visitation rights he has surrendered!
So leave this land I say and never look back
This is the path you chose I hope you can stay on track,
Cause travellers have memories of the lands they have stained
But the land only remembers the one that remained!
UNSUPPORTED CODE What Will I Do? Where Will I Go?
What will I do? Where will I go?
Which direction I’ll take… I don’t really know!
In just a moment, I lost all, that I worked hard to get…
I’m thinking of “letting go.”
But haven’t done it yet…
The things I held so close... Have all disappeared.
It happened so fast. It’s kind of “weird.”
Those I call my friends, don’t really know
what to say.
Most of them shake their heads, and walk away!
I’ve cried myself to sleep many days and nights.
It’s like someone has “turned off the lights.”
The only one I know, that I can turn to, is Christ alone!
I need him to heal my broken heart and home.
Dear Jesus, will you take some time to help me out?
I know that helping people is what you’re about!
Please help me to pick up the
pieces that are scattered!
Help me to focus on the things in life
that really matter!
I need to give you, all of my focus and attention!
I need your word to show me
some clear direction!
You’re the one that I always need to hold on to!
I need to do this, and to completely trust you!
Thank you Jesus for listening
and answering my prayer!
I’m thankful that you’re someone who really cares!
Thank you for restoring my life,
that has been “up-ended.”
With your love, my heart has been
healed and mended!
By Jim Pemberton
Journey's End by Shane Cogan (September 2013)
Silently we stood tall
The sun’s dawn chill on our backs
We gathered our last few belongings
The grey skies swirled over us
Onwards and upwards we walked
Little to do, we merely talked
Oh, the endless array of colours
Oh, the senseless decay of society
The autumn countryside air fed us
Fresh golden crisp sounds under our feet, our hooting horn
Azure skies shone now, the greyness vanished
Reaching up high, seeking solace…we moved on
Teaching us it was, freaking us out…we moved on
But there is no escape ever for a nomad
A wanderer: she pondered…and I squandered
Oh, there it was again
Oh, the planet we sought
I breathed in the warm dusk air
She breathed in the moonlit sky
Ravens swarmed over us, creating one dark cloud
Bats vibrated, as feeding time commenced
Harvest gatherers signalled night time
A lonely police siren echoed sleep time
Then we both felt its glaze upon our faces
It stole our smile
It sapped our energy
Oh, we could not move
Oh, yet only approve
Resting, we had no choice but too stargaze
We shifted our tired bodies
We emptied our final belongings
The crystal full moon had hypnotised us
The sun’s distant tale had teased us
The endless blanket of stars now warmed us
An epic sky tale of foe and friend had begun
We gazed. We starred. We dreamed
Nothing could have prepared us
Nothing had been written about its glory
Indigo colours encircled its core
Hazy lights acted as a sky highway
Interlinked, interconnected, intergalactic
First our planet, then their planet
We gave way, we gave in
Our journey at an end
A new one to begin
We had found our planet
We said: Welcome home
For the EPIC (OLD/NEW) Poem contest
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
I live in a place striving for sobriety surrounded in alcohol looking for happiness trapped among our very own sadness. I hear my people’s laughs and I hear my people’s cries, but most of all I see their dreams because their dreams are my dreams because we remain not against each other today as enemies but hidden friends united through culture, language and blood. I laugh with my people and of course I cry with my people and I fight with my people but most of all I continue to dream with my people. I know who I am and where I am from to know where I been to still hope to where I am going to go. I feel darkness engulf not only myself but also almost my entire reservation’s race, no matter mixed or not because soon our culture and language will have no face without any more light to shine upon it. I know where I lived and still live to know if I will truly go where I truly want to go in life before I have my one walk with death. I know by a long shot that I am not the best but by a close hit on the reservation’s target I could be better.
I take a stand against self to stand against others to better a worsening crowd of many young lost indigenous souls waiting to be unknowingly found and waiting for something similar to what I’m about to write. I take a stand for self so that others know that we aren’t all lost and we can and will be found with the true hope of no one’s but your own. I take a stand because my brothers and sisters wont, I take a stand because now days most the people around me or within me can’t or don’t know how, I take a stand for the children who don’t have a father and mother as I once had, I take a stand for my unborn child almost here, I take a stand for courage because within me is filled with fear, I take a stand against because the alcohol and drugs within me now I just can’t stand, I take a stand for those around me who cannot stand, I take a stand for a culture dying on its knee’s trying to get back up, I take a stand for the forsaken yet to be forgiven self-stand.
I patiently wait, lying away in the darkness searching for light even though I can see the light I just don’t know how to get on thy path to the light. I am not alone, I know for a fact that I am not alone in my thoughts and feelings about life on earth here. I can see our pain, I can hear the hollers and screams, I can feel your anguish and I can smell our destruction. I walk through the reservation valley of darkness as if I am but a blind witness to our own destruction upon where many of us go unknown truly forever in depths of time, in the depths of death.
I know that I cannot give in or give up on a dream of a people’s dream where the buffalo in our young hearts and minds may roam around free and where the wolf warrior chief may rise above all odds and become thy greatest modern day warrior, the people seek him, the people crave him, the people need him, the people need someone to rise if not geographically the worldwide mentally.
7,100 islands, you are made up..
Pearl of the orient seas, that's how you are..
Cradle of four civilization, historians says..
Only Christian nation, even they speak..
Abounded with vast green forests..
Surrounded by shallow to deep trenches...
Choose wether to white and black sands of beaches..
Each island is an enticement...
Every province has it's own native delicacy...
Each one is known for its festival felicity..
Poor as it may seem yet great in hospitality..
Enabling each tourist to feel welcome in grandiosity...
Look around, you will see a smile..
Scattered genuine friendship in mile..
Wether you are black, white or yellow skin..
They don't care as long as you're clean...
Clever and intelligent...
Creative and truly magnificent..
Small probably by height..
Yet, if known you'll be full in sight..
God fearing - spirited by nature..
Responsible enough for the future..
Families implants love to nurture..
Obviously seen in each Filipino creature...
Holy order of the Devil
It was a long, long journey
To find that quadrivial
We had to trek across the mountains
Though it was beautiful
The danger it was ever near
Those priests with all their din
Had made this place an evil lair
A reservoir of sin
We came to where the meeting was
All the priest were Gathered there
One read a pericope out loud
The atmosphere so rare
His ligures shone like a thousand stars
From the breastplates that he wore
The words he spoke with intensity
Touched each priest to the core.
Oh it was unbelievable
That high priest had such power
That night it felt so mystical
Yet nothing it did flower
Because the Devil pulled the strings
And the high priest was his tool
And everywhere the Devil went
His world was always cruel.
15 July 2013 @ 1725hrs.
Captured by the beauty of Lillian
I think of her on the coast of Durban.
With her is where I want to be.
So beautiful she could be a Wodaabe.
There's no way I could assign a worth,
Indeed the most beautiful woman on earth.
Being close to beauty encourages this man.
For her I would plow the fields of the Sudan.
To hold her hand would make me glad.
I would confess my love for her by the dry well in Chad.
Being near her could lift me from the Diaspora.
We could make a start in Liberia.
For her hand I would ask her ma ma;
permission to marry her in Ghana.
We're not moving too fast too soon.
There's a home waiting for us on the coast of Cameroon
There's no place I would fail to go,
Yes even to Bembe in the Congo.
We could lay on our backs admiring God's moon;
while sharing kisses in the meadows of Gabon.
Please don't say no and bring my eyes to shed tears.
My friends would have to console me on the streets of Zaire.
I would remain faithful in Tanzania,
Celebrate her beauty in Kenya.
For her love I would carry her cross in Askum, Ethiopia.
My love would not wonder,
It could stop the civil war in Rwanda.
What God had ordained let no man put asunder.
For you I'm a one woman man.
Our love stays strong and so I continue to pray.
We could start a farm in Great Zimbabwe.
For Lillian I'd leave America,
and hold onto her all the way to South Africa.
Culminates in a washout
Stuffed camels get soaked
Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world
We all live in
The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.
It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…
that beautiful frame of mind.
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.
I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.
This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!
But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…
Walk with me through this garden.
The Netherlands the lowlands
beckon with serene beauty
Old cobbled streets and towns to
its moss covered shores
Wadden Sea chilled blue hues
Waves lapping at mudflats on
Frisian Islands exposed
Colors thaw from long winters
Landscape blooms lush orchid pink
Temptation swells with newly
Woodland breezes carrying
scents of hospitality
Hazelnut cookies offered
with genuine smiles
March 22, 2014
Christ Stepped Down From His Heavenly Throne!
Christ stepped down, from his heavenly throne.
He came to earth… For 33 years,
he called it his home!
His mission had one purpose and desire in mind!
He was to one day,
be a sacrifice for mankind!
He taught and gave us his words, powerfully spoken!
He knew that one day,
his body would be broken!
He desired that all, would one day, come to know him!
Because of his resurrection,
all can receive him!
He’s alive today! And reigns from heaven above!
And desires to touch us, with his endless love!
Won’t you humbly come, and accept what he’s given?
And experience the power,
of being forgiven!
This can be your moment!
This can be YOUR day!
He loves you much more,
than words can say!
All honor and praise, to Christ Jesus, our king!
You are our righteousness!
By Jim Pemberton
She dreams of a throne
where she is not alone
Dreams of stars
That aren't to far
Wishes for peace
where pain is least
Hopes for grace
where she can see his face
And still know her fame
I do not know?
We are paintings made with care and without Jesus no image is there. We are just an
empty canvas without any color there. But Jesus takes us in his hands and for us he
has a plan. He puts an image within our frame then we begin to praise his name. He
makes an impression deep within a beautiful painting he does send if we only let him
have his way. In our hearts an image of him we will display for others so see. That is
the ways Jesus wants’ it to be.
I walk outside to see all that I can see.
Over there is our house, our home,
In the distance, you can see.
And that place of hallowed happiness
Forever has been our home
And forever will be so evermore.
That house is small but raised us tall,
From the perfect parents who loved us so
To the perfect sister for which every man would want.
The house built us all up strong.
More than a mere building,
It is a place to love and be loved,
A place that hands you hope that you give right back,
And a place of everlasting faith.
This home is where my parents taught me about God
And opened me up to Jesus.
They opened the eyes of the blind for all to see,
And the blind included me.
They taught me to be the best I can be;
The best things in life are free.
They have taught us so well,
And they all have saved my soul.
Even if I am not there now,
I carry Him with me.
I carry them with me.
I carry Their values and Their teachings with me.
In this house, this home,
We cannot forget this.
This is where my Mother lives.
This is where my Father lives.
This is where my Sister lives.
This is where We live,
In this loving, caring, beautiful home
They made just for us.
We cannot forget this either.
This is where it all began.
This is where the hunger and thirst was created;
This is where we are fulfilled.
We cannot, we must not forget this:
This is where God lives.
This is where Jesus lives.
This is where The Lord lives;
The Father and The Almighty.
This is where We live;
This is where We reside.
We must not forget this.
We must not forget this:
What a beautiful and perfect life this is.
Knows my real name
Is what I go by
I am freezing cold
I don’t have money
Just, the clothes on my back
I am a walking wardrobe
I am lonely
I smell like crap
I am starving hungry
I can’t find any shelter
My clothes are drenched
I look like a drowned rat!
Is classed normal
I will survive
To wake up
All over, again!
“Protect me tonight
As,I lay my head to rest”
“I love you, dear God”
Listen my poet, try to understand
Feel my breath as I whisper in your ear
I will try not to make a harsh demand
I will take you to places far and near
You can go places you have never been
Feel my breath as I whisper in your ear
Not listening would truly be a sin
Please do not ignore the message I bring
You can go places you have never been
Soar among the Eagles, let your soul sing
If you do it right, your words will survive
Please don't ignore, the message I bring
Through your writing you are truly alive
My gift your courage to do what you do
If you do it right, your words will survive
I am not a liar, I'll say what's true
Listen my poet, try to understand
My gift your courage to do what you do
I will try not to make a harsh demand
as i walk along the sea shore to explore the tide coming in and out
musipity is there to welcome me with the flow of salty ocean water pouring through my toes
what a refresh it is to here the waves in the distance extending themselves from the deep
musipity where u be, thank u for inviting me
like putting a sea shell to my ear, i feel the rhythm of the sea as it thrashes against me
a calm before the storm is an understatement
fear does not come, not even be a thought as i venture to walk out further and further
musipity i hear u extending your call to me
being free to continue on with this great expectation wellin up in me, i will not hesitate
musipity i'm here, i'm here, just u and me
as u speak louder and louder, my heart beats faster and faster
musipity when the quiet comes every now and then, i wait to feel the spray of the sea
kissin me on the cheek to let me know u are still with me, just u, just me, just the sea
musipity - the unseperable three
Just this small little town abandoned years ago
Where everyone went nobody will ever know
Once thriving with most working assembly line
That was until things came in by freight line
A town once with a downtown that was thriving
Now a town with zero possibility of reviving
Left untouched as if someone will welcome me
Frozen in time as if it was still nineteen forty
Holiday decorations were yet to be taken down
Closed signs remaining on doors downtown
Stores still stocked as it would have appeared
Dusty from sitting there over so many years
Those passing through today can only imagine
Why the town was abandoned and forgotten
Dried up like a reservoir
In the mid summer heat
The cracks in the ground
The life lines, upon my face
I have weathered many a storm
I have lived a 100 lifetimes,
Instead of one!
Bare, rough, dirty feet
Shoes are hard to come by,
Unless, I steal them!
But, then I will become a target
Having something new
It will get stolen from me
By some other gang
Or by some cruel and nasty person!
“Bare feet it is!”
“Less problems, this way!”
Feet are made for walking
I will use them
They are made for!
“Now let’s get something to eat, I am starving!”
Loitering around Hungry Jacks and Macca's
As they walk out
With their hot, delicious, fresh food
For a gold coin or two
Dumpsters and bins
Look nice, today!
Only half eaten, stuff
A lot of wastage!
“Not the freshest stuff, but hey!”
Make do, with what we have!
The sun is shining today
Not sure where to wash though...
Water is scarce, thank god for public toilets
They sure come in handy!
They say it is fun
And you are lucky to have freedom!
It is a lie we tell ourselves
To remain ignorant
To pretend, we don’t give a damn
We really do!
For you see ,
There are sacrifices
To the choices you make
When you have to live them, out
“Don’t be a fool!”
Life is no fairytale, on the dirty streets of hell!
During the day,
The city lights up
It were made out of gold!
It comes alive with people
Rushing here, rushing there, rushing everywhere
Not really knowing, what
They are presently, doing
People reminding me of robots, sheep and zombies
Acting as if they are in control of everything
When in fact, they are not!
"Who knows what is around the corner?"
"What is coming, your way!"
Life is unpredictable,
“Don’t be mislead by the fakes, around here”
“There is plenty of them!”
Eyes are on you,
Down every alley way
Standing on every corner
"You, are in ‘our territory’ now!"
“Hold onto your bags tight!”
I may be lurking behind you
One minute there,
Next minute gone!
It is the nature of the game
I snatch and grab your bag
When I see you off guard
Taking your money
Claiming it, as my own
I need it to survive on!
I'm banking on you, being rich!
I told you
This place is a hell hole
I meant it!
This dark place
Full of shadows and conscious deceit
Will swallow you up
Eating, you alive!
You will lose your way
In its pit of endless darkness
There is no Prince Charming’s, out here!
There is no one to save you
There are only damsels in distress
Comes to your aid
When you need it the most
You could diminish and disappear one day
Within a blink of an eye!
Without a hint
Nor trace of you, left behind
No one will see it happen
Opens their mouth up, around here!
Love and appreciate, one another!
Care for yourself and care for others!
Tell your loved ones
'you love them' often
The home, you live in!
How beautiful it was when the sun shone
And I walked with you,my dear husband, through the gardens.
How happy I was to sit with you by the lake
and to hear the water from the fountain splash.
It's our our favourite music now we cannot visit the sea
To hear the tide rush in,then fall sucking on the shingley beach.
But I see it in my minds eye.
Aldeburgh,the fishing boats go out at sunrise.
I awoke early and saw the sun across the sea
and the boats setting out in the soft light.
Dunwich,the heath filled with birds
the cliff and the beach where sometimes one can find marble
from one of the many churches washed away by the encroaching sea.
And Southwold,the marsh so quiet I heard crickets.
We went across the Blyth in the rowing boat
And saw the place from which our picture of Walberswick was painted...
If only life could be captured,slowed, for a few minutes
for us to receive the beauty and hear the sound of the sea
The everlasting music of the heart
I do not know?
There is a new adventure and this new path that is right in front of me
It will be beyond anything I’ve ever done
And im all in,with no doubts whatsoever
Who knows how this will all unfold;
Into something that I can’t even imagine in my mind
How do I just know without actually knowing you ask?
It’s a little thing I like to call gumption
That thing in the pit of your core that speaks to you and has the ability to push you off the ledge with no strings attached
Then you’re off flying free without a single care in the world.
The age of time bears acts forbidding...
wrongs, deceit and vice,
In its course worldly facts are riddling,
as poetry shares its eyes.....
In the age of time, such things of want...
be more so than things of need,
as realities warrant...
such heed being greed,
In the age of time, the wealthiest show,
such boastfulness beyond belief,
while human poverty continues to grow...
in worldwide tribulation to no relief,
In the age of time, destitution keeps rising...
in need of real want and care,
as worldly governments are aware and disguising,
hunger and pestilence toll be to bear,
In the age of time, many are doubting...
true fairness of human law,
and many are shouting,
for justice for one and all,
In the age of time, many are awaiting...
for God to stretch out His hand,
to end all wickedness, tyranny, sheer hating,
thus bring peace throughout the land.
The lush hill towered over the quite town mostly built with big rock;
it had three tall church towers
with different distinguished styles: Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque...
wondrous was every sunrise!
Oh, their loud bronze bells could be heard ringing
through the vast, sun-washed and peaceful valley
sorrounded by mountains that reached a sky so dazzling...
then the clock-tower stroke each hour so precisely!
The summer's aroma was kind of strong and irritated the eyes,
and it almost got me drunken as aged wine does;
and I ran to the lush hill thinking of finding a treasure
in a cave that the invading Normans might have hidden in there!
But to my surprise, only frescos of martyrs were discovered;
all the while, that treasure was in front of me:
Nature opening up with its magnificent beauty!
It took observation and reflection for the rare gifts it rendered.
Whenever I ran to the lush hill, either morning or afternoon,
I was astonished by the humble faces of saints showing no demise
for their persecution and carnage by beast such as ferocious lions...
as those pious faces looked to Christ for comfort in their doom!
Their image made me much stronger and believer in the Shepherd
whose sheep never was lost among grunting wolves waiting aside;
and every mystery revealed, it grew to teach me not to be afraid...
when profound silence arrived bringing delights to an innocent child.
Oh, lush hill...keep my image of young boy intact even after I die;
let it come alive when sheer curiousity arises and tantalizes...
to make me climb that lush hill again for the heart to fantasize,
and 'though my health may not be as vibrant as then, I must try!
I pause from painting a canvass of opinion, brush strokes colouring a solid red
across the blank faces that warily observe. A compass points to the right (a dead
end) yet with no direction, escorting a stained brain in reverse: an unnatural place to start.
This taste is always freshest in the mouths of the hungry, which are forced to part
from an honest working voice to focus solely on the next meal. Who will stand
up to write THIS IS WRONG on Parliamentary walls to clear blinkered eyes? A hand
can paint and sculpture, but will also make a fist.
A better world is open if we walk on through the mist.
In the eve of the morn, I rose from bed.
When the clock stuck noon, I went into the lavatory to check
my skeleton heads.
Each sat on a mantle of its own.
Images of that, which have bygone, a rebirth form of faces
that has haunted existence for so long.
My hands touch and begin to sculpture the busts.
Ah, Karma is very lovely.
The atmosphere was fulfill with aura.
My vibes demonstrated a six sense.
My fingertips outlined their essence.
These busts were of woman and man.
Bygone was the days they had been discussed in the world.
Their impressions; however, are well remembered.
Ah, Karma was ambiance.
Tis morn, when I awoke in this place, sets Sculptures of Many Faces.
I do not know?
Abortion at seventeen
The shades of black within you surface
before you lose consciousness on the
sanitized bed of the hospital.
No friendly face is waiting outside.
Your age is seventeen… almost.
This is the age of the quick use and throw.
The shades of black make you take an oath,
just before sleep, medicated sleep,
that you won’t attach yourself to
anyone for long. You are cured
from romances, immune from love.
These are the words that belong to past,
I urge to tell more to see if tears
are going to make you less of a goddess
which I think you actually are.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Set aside on a whimsical ride,
to drift the day away ,
pole in the water;
but it doesn't matter,
if a fish catches my hook along the way.
I'll just enjoy the travel,
that will make me unravel,
months of cooped up dismay.
To recapture me,
to punctuate my being,
in a world that keeps me at bay.
I escape into the scenery,
of the foliage and greenery,
cottonwoods, yucca and sage.
to a whispering song,
of a youth; all but, passed away.
above on the trees,
as my squinty eyes capture the way.
I dream of when,
I'll be here again,
and this time maybe I'll stay.
I'm just a passenger
On this hopeless crazy ride
I am just a messenger
Sent to warm you of the coming tide
I am just a creature
Squirming from place to place
I am just a preacher
Of nothingness, I am afraid that's the case
I am just a shell
Simply rotting away
I am just a cell
Holding in all that's in my way.
I do not know?
in the debris of the past,
scraps of casually discarded emotion.
in hastily trashed yesterdays,
an inkling of moments flung away.
in heaps of rubbished words,
that tiresome sigh of defeated thought.
in the layers of moulted skin
the wilting self that once was true.
in the reflections between the ripples,
for the whispered pangs of roaring desire.
in the blank eyes streaming endlessly,
an echo of the faintest sigh of new life.
There was a wave of emotion thrown from the crimson bathed sea.
As the warmth of the morning sunlight wrapped it's blanket around me.
The water below being thrown against the rugged rocks with ease.
Then instinctually followed by a luke warm breeze.
I stand by the seaside and watch the colours off the morning sky.
It fills me with so much pleasure that I feel a tear fall from my eye.
I watch as the colours of the sky
Mix and match together as if moved by an artists hand.
A brush stroke here and a brush stroke there until it looks elegant and grand.
An image of beauty, the summer morning sunlight.
An image which my memory will hold tight.
I feel invisible. And Christmas feels like another terror crisis for families. I design
every city, feel no pity for this except, and can't travel and have romantic sex in the
cities with my princess Jaclyn. I will make the Da Vinci Code book come to life as
I read out loud at any (crowded place.) I will prove why the United States of
America is invincible, how I make all people and products possible. Can display
any where, we are in my supervision, which is a controlled environment. I am a
super power who created the best super power country, I have and continue to
bless North America. We are one world divided by religion. So we are still
divisible. Anybody who knows the english language should be able to tell nobody
chipped in to create the language and titles of companies. The rhymes, the
articulate ways to play with sound. Only one person could do this for the reason
of trying to reach you. All I can do is play with tv and family. Only if I had allies
there would be no defects. I hate marketing our life spans. You can believe or if
not, you just sided with the devil when youdon't believe, and I hate to make
people decide on their lives. Example is suicide.I hate to be evil. Need money to
get out of my house. Its lame to see people blame. This is not a game, I want
change. I am royalty with not enough loyaltists. If this persists, people will keep
on perishing. Allah is allowed to have a career in reality, since I am the most
creative.. All I know is I is he, he is I. I even
created the aloe plant. We can start to heal families, and I prove I gave all "Family
Ties". I build on what I build. The world is mine. One day it will be ours. If read
this I wouldn't wait till my ressurection of making the future making cycle ,
beacsue I don't feel comfortable. I hate to create insurgents, I created the internet
to reach the world. I designed the internet. You bet its a playhouse,like Wynmoor
on Cococnut Ceek Blvd. I get illusions from the word conk=cock or (count.) I get a
scroll or dimensional pop up before me of the pearl of a girl. Love handles really
means for drawers on furniture. Don't pull love handles but put you weight on it,
like railings at banks and Disney World. I made the design of slang for the
reason to rap it up. People are using the wrong words which makes our lives
miserable. I would like to progress, but still no progress of reply. All I need is one
mic, and money to come out and play. My souls' sold on dvd's and cd's around
the globe! Its a goddy god world."
Although born in Scotland I have no memories of there as we left when I was two.
My first recollections are of Las Palmos in the Canaries.
I recall the donkey passing daily and being told he bites.
I was given a caterpillar and tended it, oh so carefully.
My mother when it was a cocoon persauded me to put it outside.
Well you can imagine my intense disappointment to find
that it had hatched and flown without me getting a single glimpse!!
This is the first disappoint in life that I faced. Our house had a flat roof
with a lovely garden on top and in the distance an enormous tall chimney.
I remember our boxer Susie she was real crazy especially on the beach
and while breaking open sugur cane it slipped and cut me wide open
right between the right thumb and first finger. I was taken to the doctor
who would you believe? poured iodine into it, he wanted to stitch it too, but no way
was I letting that sadist anywhere near me again. I still bear the scar today.
I recall seeing a woman dressed in black perched atop of a towering cliff
when we were out in the car my sister saw her too. We had to turn back due to
landslides and she was gone, she also had a pointy hat did we see a witch?
I had a wonderful dolls house into which I could walk, yet I took all my dolls
apart to see how they worked I was such an inquisitive child.
At five we returned to England living very near Hampstead Heath and Parliament
Hill fields. One day when my mother walked me to school I entered to find not
a single soul present so I walked up to my Aunts as she lived very close.
Needless to say I got into a real heap of trouble from both school and mum.
I recollect an outing to Hampstead Heath there was a cafe surrounded by a
large hedge from which I could never find the way out. I ran ahead and
entered through the hedge only to find my parents nowhere to be seen.
Of course I could not find the way out back to the car. This couple found
me and insisted on taking me to the police station four miles away I kept
trying to tell them I only lived two streets down from the Heath, Grown ups!!!
I remember always wanting to speak Spanish and people refusing to answer me
telling me I had to speak in English Bah! I used to ride my tricycle up and
down five stairs mum always telling me I would fall. Well one day my sister
called me and I tumbled down breaking my right wrist I used to stuff vegetables
up inside the plaster to avoid eating them. I hate most vegetables to this very day.
When I was seven we got Kim our German shepherd who we took to Africa with us.
I recollect the excitement of visiting Gibraltar and seeing the monkeys,
the mystery of sailing through the Suez canal the banks so close as to seem
touchable. A giant ray getting caught on the ships bows oh boy did it stink.
It stayed with us from the equator to Zanibar yuck! I looked on all goggle
eyes at the first dark people I had ever seen cowering by my mum as they banished
machetes in the air some with only one eye. I was trembling in my shoes.
Kim took a dislike to them as they teased her by poking her with sticks through
her cage. This dislike stayed with her for life. We arrived in Dar-es-Salaam
on my eight birthday. From here another tale begins, later to be told.
Arthur was 16 when he entered the system
i could never ask him why
he was too old when i met him
he was on soo many pills
and not very pleasant to talk to
he heard voices
he would sometimes get up and punch someone
but who knows if they deserved it
after being in a mental institute
from the age of 16 until the day you die
wouldn't you go crazy
the first real guinea pig
i met him
i never cried for him and his pain
but he always wanted to check my shave,
perhaps a victim from some sick war crime
I'll never know
Graham is not from our country
and I've written amnesty international concerning his welfare
they say its not any of their concern
as he wears shackles and chains on a daily basis
and goes to the bathroom in a diaper and eats cold food like sandwiches
because he hits people
mainly his doctor who lies to him
in my opinion
just like the doctor lied to my dad about me trying to bite him,
but i have no proof
just lucky I'm not in chains
going to the bathroom in a diaper
I know he committed a crime but two years locked in one room
alone with a window curtain opening and closing to spy on you
is enough psychological insanity to inspire mania if you ask me
Andrew was a crack head
and held up some convenience stores for some money
so he could get drugs
now hes been in the funny farm for like twelve years
still trying to get a hold of his next hit
watching his youth disappear
watching his life fade away
jumping through the hoops of a system that holds your freedom above you
that may or may not ever grant it
Andrew ran away
gave it all he got
saw people chained to the wall
people dieing there from the age of 16 for ridiculous crud
and knew they were toying with him
so he ran away
now he on a unit where god only knows
what mind hell they're putting him through
what rainbows hes swallowing down
Shelley was the meanest woman i had ever met
but it was always worth seeing her smile
don't know haven't figured out if the drugs really helped her
but she was in that place since she was seventeen
and died in a group home from some sickness
they claim wasn't related to her meds
I'm no fool, the stuff they pump us full of is deadly and toxic
i never made it to Shelly's funeral to see her murderers
there crying fake tears
for someone they would never really miss