He be from a young age, being close to the sea
His excitement being, just what will he see
Books, stories, told so much he
He just wants to be, what all's told to thee
Many trips he's been, many species he's caught
Previous excitements captured, leaving him naught
Being a typical Fisherman, telling sizes he's seen
He to Lanzarote, never the Anglers King
For he, and just he, when he's caught in running run
No matter it's size, from the sea it all begun
To enter it's depths, knowing it's depths won't return
This Fisherman's Wish, no tomorrows having earned
In the glowing embers, of an evening fire
There dances the last remnants, of my desire
A melancholy, is stirred by an evening breeze
As my lips quivered, I knelt on bended knees
A lonesome howl, is carried upon the breeze
To fan the fire within, flames were sent to tease
As past thought and feelings enveloped my soul
The emptiness inside raged, spirit out of control
I asked him for forgiveness of my imperfect soul
Even as I tried climbing out of this dark, black hole
The stench of burning flesh, I carry everywhere
Since I fell from your grace, into this pit of despair
Let the fire of life dwindle and as the night air cools
I feel it's warmth leave my body and forms into pools
All I pray is that pain and sadness felt is left behind
Is this really a sane act or thoughts of an insane mind
They gathered to say goodbye
Shell shocked and wondering why
The great Drama Queen was dead
She was found that way in bed
Didn’t think she’d follow through
But her frustration grew and grew
No one could hear her heart’s cry
Now they stood wondering why
How could she take her own life?
She...the good mother and wife
For her, the “drama” was real
She chose to die not to feel
That moment, life’s closing act
She’d left her greatest impact
This life is only a stage
Scripted drama on each page
Done “acting” she now could rest
Drama Queen played THIS role best
Eileen Manassian Ghali
I have endured life's up's and down's,
I keep to myself and don't make a sound.
I fight with my thoughts every single day,
nothing I do helps make it go away.
It's been a long road and a hard one to follow,
now I am at a dead end and my heart is hollow.
You can call me a coward but your not me,
I don't want your pity so just let me be.
Thank you for the help you all tried to give,
I can't take anymore I no longer want to live.
I feel that suicide is the answer for me,
it's time to release my demons and set me free.
The hurtful smile
A life lived in denial...
Pressures exerted from the outside.
Life dealt him the hind-side...
The emotion of fear -
a peaceful, yet regretful tear...
Rolling, rumbling, glistening...
his face is resting...
The hurtful smile
relieved for a while...
Gazing with a distant soft saddened stare,
Locked in a zone and I'm staring out there.
Trampling emotions are mangling my soul.
A pilot flying solo with no self control.
Headfirst - a nose dive in progress.
Thinking twice - a complex process.
Falling aimlessly constant flashbacks in mind.
Gusting wind rushing my eyes forcing them blind.
Gravity's strong pull is more than my own.
No turning back, a decision full blown.
Ground zero near, it's closing in fast.
Seconds from death, my breath at its' last.
I'm screaming so loud I wake myself up.
A nightmare repeated, my mind is shook up.
- Yours Truly
Pain splatters teardrops on my brain
No wonder why I’m soaking from misery’s rain
I tried to comfort her and take her under my wing
But every time we talked her words left a burning sting
So I put a pillow over her head
Wishing and waiting for her to be dead
But instead she slapped me into confusion
Is my life real or not? A question that gives me frustration
So I used to hurt myself to know what’s real
I couldn’t even trust the way I feel
And the only feelings that I had are the ones I didn’t want
Like nightmares and relationships; and all the others that shall always taunt
I wanted to drink until I got severely drunk
Maybe that would get me out of this funk
But then I said no; I’m too afraid to be my father
Imagine everyone telling you that you’ll be just like that monster
I’ve been told that like a million times
And I felt like if I was slapped by billions of extremely sour limes
Words that almost made me commit suicide
Everything that broke me and made me fall
Yet didn’t kill me didn’t make me stronger at all
Why do people say things that make no sense?
Are they all lies or is my life just a bit intense
Why would I want to hear that I would be abusing
Backstabbing and abandoning everyone I’m supposed to be loving
And worst of all I look just like the monster that I hate
So I despise myself and my devastating fate
Because from the pain I cannot hide
I would rather put a gun to my head and pull the trigger
And hear my heartbeat quickly get bigger
Fall to my knees and say goodbye
And let my last tears fall from my eyes
Written under the influence of anger and depression
This Will Startle You
What if you were to become overly involved
Results were that your group was dissolved
Wondering where he should go from here
As he tries to overcome his each fear.
On you mind, what will worry have an effect?
Which is next sin he should try to select
And remove from arsenal containing many
In the end will finally no longer have any.
Meaning of this, what could it possibly ne?
So committed suicide to set my soul free
From all of my life which was full of despair
And on my body, I felt trauma everywhere.
Was all mixed up from my mental condition
That is a modern rendition of a new tradition
Of having given up when all is finally lost
Died and behind remains of life had tossed.
James Serious Mysterious Horn
Pulling up his pants I think he's already forgotten me
Smeared lipstick and a handful of twenty's
Dirty condoms laying on couch, the bed, and the floor
He gives me a mischievous wink and out the door
Now i'm angry at what I've done
A filthy whore with cheap discreet fun
Laying on my bed it smells like sex
My life has always been cursed like a hex
No worries i've got a way to take away the pain
Pulled the trigger on my twenty two and blew out my brain
Pain Of The Night
There is a short story of Hemingway’s
Called “A Clean Well-Lighted Place”.
An old widower in a small Spanish town
Nightly frequents a café until it closes down.
Behind his back, some of the waiters deride
Him, because the widower had attempted suicide.
One married waiter complained repeatedly,
That because of him they couldn’t ever close early.
However one older waiter had more sympathy,
Because like the old man, he had no family.
The old waiter understood that pain in the night,
Could be held back in a place that’s clean and bright.
I remember when I was single and free to roam,
And later as a soldier deployed far from home,
That old message of Ernest Hemingway’s
About needing a clean well-lighted place.
Without love and family, life seems just sleep and work.
Solitude is most oppressive sitting in the dark.
Our connection to others helps keep us alive;
Gives us meaning and a reason to survive.
So if you have nobody, and feel the pain of the night,
Surround yourself in a place that’s clean and bright.
How thin is the line between love and death?
A poet's mind's length; a fine, raven hair's breadth.
I remember clearly all those sweet times
We lay after sex; all the low clock chimes
With your head on my heaving, breathless chest;
The nights without you; alone; cold at best.
Between thumb and finger I twist the bond,
The rope which we played with; with which so fond.
Muscle memory reties naughty knots;
As my mind's projector plays those old thoughts;
It's ironic; those ties that gave us joy
Should end all the pain in this tragic boy;
That the rope with which I tied fast her hands
Should snatch my soul out from the Devil's plans.
I slip down that knot; fasten the rafter,
As I kick that chair, I hear her laughter.
If love is a hunger.Then my heart is
empty.The pains run deeper then
the pacific ocean floor.So many
lovers my heart feels like a revolving
door.I ask my mother to feed me
cause i hunger for her love .She
gave me the left over scraps from
my sisters and brother.barely
enough to stop the pain.I ask my
father to feed me and he only feeds
my mother ,and when he
remembers that I have no love he
says hes fresh out.I asked my
husband to feed me .But he cant
even make food.He gives me a
dinner mint of lust .It disappears as
soon as it touches my
lips.Countless lovers taking from an
already starved heart. The inner
parts of my heart consumed by the
love given but never received.My
heart is just and empty hollow lining
.So empty the hunger pains can
never be felt again.
Bye, Bye Robin Williams
If only my peace I could now rest in
And wouldn't have to start over again;
All of my efforts which were fruitless
Now are of no value and totally useless.
Begins have begun and endings gone by;
Many things about myself, I had to deny;
What I felt was a false sense of being
And deep within me nothing was agreeing.
Conflicts continue on as they still persist
And if I lived again, what would I insist;
Time after time and over and over again
If I had prayed to God ending it with Amen.
Hollow puppet dancing on her strings,
Fear, fear please don't trim her wings.
Crumple down to hard dirt floor,
Never, never to dance any more.
Limbs this way, that way thrown;
No movement truly her own.
Dark, empty all around,
No purpose, value anywhere found.
Hollow puppet dancing on her strings,
Begging, desperate, please trim her wings.
Pain, pain go away,
Let me dance no more this way.
This Very Instant
How can bright comedian become religious
Assume a position that is often prestigious
And to hear and listen to must be prepared;
How can comedians with others be compared?
Was comedian genius who of had a stroke?
And one troubling day his spirit soon broke
Hated it when his humor he had to hide;
Great comedian who once was bona fide.
Comedians came and would soon pass by
Who on for our humor we always did rely
With their fun and jokes being persistent
Went to heaven in a flash and an instant.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Been On Back Road Again
I have been on a back road again
And never can ever remember when
God made great girl like her for me
Such a lovely sight for us to see.
But back road I have reached its end
So this letter still will want to send;
Remember guitar that we once had?
Lost it one day and now I am sad.
Reminds me of all my love I lost
After by life around being bossed;
She didn't wanted to be my wife;
So went out and took her own life.
Why do certain things occur?
It was me God made for her;
Unhappy am forever and a day
Knowing that she passed away.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
The ends is hear
Death is near
I take these pills
With out any skills
I can not breathe
My heart is slowing its beat
I see the light
It is very bright
My life is coming to an end
Death is around the bend
I give my possessions to a friend
Because he was there too the end
He watched me suffer
Put me under the cover
I got rid of the pain
That my life is no longer in vain
Such a bitter end
to my good friend
You stood so tall
through it all
But in the end they got you
with words of lies too
We've missed you now for one whole year
It feels like yesterday, as I shed a tear
I do understand your reasoning as to why
but that doesn't mean I will not cry
You died so young, you barely lived life
You never had a career, a pet, kids, or wife
A life lived with little experience
your mind had uptapped brilliance
We miss you now like we missed you then
Someday we will join you and see you again
Sometimes...things do not go our way...
Everyone has the experience of a bad day...
Pain is such that we cannot hide...
But is there any logic for suicide...?
Relations break...successes shy...
Everything seems puzzled...one doesn't know why...
Failure is the outcome with everything one tried...
But does it make sense to opt for suicide...?
Life becomes a curse...an apparent Hell...
Pessimism prevails with its scandalous spell...
One is alone....with no one beside...
But still...why the hell should he go for suicide....!
Life is not always a joyride....
Manliness lies in taming every tide....
And there is no one in this world who has never cried...
So....it is foolish to, even, think of suicide....!!!
I wake up screaming, crying and in a cold sweat.
I say it’s just a dream; but my mind, heart, and soul can’t forget.
There is no escaping this memory.
I thought I could in sleep; but there is no such luxury.
It plays over and over in my mind.
I beg for it to stop, and life once again is kind.
Was I at the wrong place at the wrong time?
Or the opposite; my entire life’s purpose its reason and rhyme?
I leave for work to begin a session.
My clients ask me for that particular lesson.
Before I do my mandate requires me to ask them why?
The answer is always the same; so they won’t try.
As always it starts off the same way with me telling them.
I was way atop a seaside cliff just reading a poem.
I look down to see a woman standing at the shore.
But something was out of place; I just felt it in my core.
The sea was rough and there was a terrible riptide.
Something in my gut told me she was seeking to hide.
Before I knew it she was in there and willingly going under.
With that came a lightning flash and roaring thunder.
God spoke; He told me to try and save her.
From the cliff top I dove into the deep end of the water.
I was grateful the currents were strong and pulled me in her direction.
I too am now under, struggle but finally make my connection.
Back on the shore I pound on her chest and breathe into her mouth.
I hoped to bring her back from that terrible trip down south.
For ten minutes I tried but alas she was gone.
I lived shed died but two lives were lost on that fateful “mourn.”
I held her close and I cried.
Told her how sorry I was that life had lied.
Was it really so bad?
Who and what had you so sad?
Did not anyone show you love?
If so; you could have sought it from Above.
In that way you would always be strong.
Then no one can do you any wrong!
I look down at this sleeping beauty.
Tell her I tried my best; it was my duty.
You didn't have to leave.
I would have loved you; that you could truly believe.
To this day I'm still in awe but never ask why.
A Voice whispered in my heart and soul, "Give it one more try!"
I finally gave her one more kiss; the breath of life.
That rope pulling her into hell was severed; I was grateful God used me as the knife!
She then spat up water all over my face.
Today we are married and guess what; her name is Grace.
It’s OK I have another box of tissues.
I thank you for the story; please help me fix my issues.
Yes I will always be here.
So I can stop anyone from entering the sea of despair.
Sad Round of Beer
When in all of self-pity a person wallows
Will soon be greeted by their own gallows,
And all the many things they tried to hide
Encouraging efforts to commit suicide.
With many felt like I had a close bond
Which disappeared with wave of a magic wand;
To many may seem tragic my difficult end
So this euphoric, eloquent eulogy must send.
What words could describe my each woe?
Battle is over and towel in have to throw,
And now on earth, I am no longer are here;
For Robin, drink one more sad round of beer.
Wife was beautiful when she walked by
And she always, really caught my eye
Like someone I never saw before
Who I would want to see much more.
My husband always troubled had been
And my life, at times, he would not let in;
What happened to him I had supposed
Was in on him his world had closed.
Wherever he was or had tried to be
No one could ever see his REAL ME
And times to himself he had lied;
With deep sorrow committed suicide.
In heaven, no longer has a worry or care
Which in past was hard for him to bare
And now while he's high in heaven above,
As you look at everyone, give them his love.
Tribute To Brian Williams
James Thomas Horn
You can forward any of my poems
to anyone who you may want to.
Everything is on fire
They said I was crazy as a child
Well the fire on the posters on my walls
Causes me to rock back forth for fear
The fire will reach me too.
I pray it reaches you, you who doesn’t,
Couldn’t understand me.
The fire is spreading
I think it’s reached my face now
Because my face is on fire.
I think it’s in my brain now
Because I can’t seem to function
But only stars and burning red spots
On charcoal walls that once used to house
That which I call my collage of
Music, art, photography, etc.
It was beautiful, but now, on fire,
It has become even more beautiful
I bet I’m not saying the things you would expect
Well I don’t expect you to properly expect
What is expected of me, predictably unpredictable.
I go to bars to stare at the wall
Because it’s easier to look there than to people,
Who tell me, subconsciously,
That I will commit suicide one day.
The thought of suicide is a powerful comfort
That and the thing about music
Is the only thing I respect Nietzsche for saying.
He probably didn’t even say it but the fire said it through him
Right before the dragons came to slay him.