It has taken me two months to write about this
It was me, you and him
All of us in my place
I was drinking margarita, you and him were drinking vodka
Eventually you persuaded me to drink some vodka too
We were all in a merry mood, excited and heightened
You danced a lot that night, you always had your sharp zumba moves to show
At one point you wanted us to flash our boobs, for the boy
I firmly turned down the request because I knew it was wrong
Girl, you were really drunk
It started as a joke, proceeded to be an argument and eventually it was over
And the boy just sat there
I remember our first encounter, it was in a library
We loved books so much
We eventually became very close friends
We spent our spare college times together, inseparable
At one point we had one scratch in our relationship but eventually all was resolved
We were back again to our giggles and wiggles
Girl, I will always remember your camping stories
They brought a lot of happy tears to our eyes
Your many travel adventures and the pictures you send
Through you, I traveled the world
Your rock climbing tales
Your diverse taste of cuisine, like a cigar it was fancy with a flavorful star
I will always remember the parties we met, they added humor to our lives
I will always remember you, though now gone from my life, I will always thank God for the days we shared
Copyright © njeri hunjeri
If by my grave you someday pass,
And see a stone with my name;
Spend time with me, sit in the grass,
And pray you can forgive my shame.
If I didn't pass all that was true,
Or fell beneath your portion of desire;
If I didn't do all that was right,
My heart lives in fear of its empty fire.
Then let your sorrow drown its tear
On your cheek in sadness fall;
Forget my failure, keep my memory near,
For what I was to you over all.
And if you can't reach out and bless,
Grant me compassion in forgiveness.
By Elizabeth Wesley
I will post it on each floor in the place where I live
andmaybe get downtown to do it in some stores.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley
Moon Walk on Your Grave
A life begun in stardom,
now, ending up in shame.
Relentless media, cruel world,
who then is there to blame.
A sadness inside,
no tears on your face.
The pain all but over,
mass confusion erase.
In wonder we watch,
can a life be explained?
Can't surface your agony,
under facade you remained.
Let's focus on the talent,
musical joy that you gave.
In peace now I pray,
moon walk on your grave.
© Rene' Brady 2009
Copyright © Rene' Brady
Just one more time,
just one more breath,
just one more moment to remember the past,
lull in thy memories,
breathe in thy essence,
to look upon thy face,
to know you still care,
to know what we had was special,
to be preserved in preferred memories.
Where I am going I know naught.
Floating as if in limpid water currents,
languor reaching but finding not,
solitary enraged soul longing for one more kiss,
one kiss whence naught.
Malformed monsters feast
upon the vermin ravishing mine soul,
my tender heart loathing sunset’s rays enfold,
nighttime beseech me, broken heart unfold.
Another night shine through tears,
summoned by memories a hundredfold,
putrid time consumes life;
Cruel Life Sleeps.
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham
Every Everyday I feel the same old mistakes brushing up my leg and heading
striaght for my heart. Trying make me sting... stupid memories, I can't shake them away
and they just make me feel everyday regrets. I knew you were leaving, I could feel it
inside. Yet it seemed like life just kept moving on... it never let me stop for a minute
to see how you were doing and I blame myself for not saying good bye. Sometimes I cry
when I think about you... sometimes I wonder why I didn't just go see you. One more
mistake and my heart keeps on aching. I'm not ready for this but even so it kills me.
Everyday regrets about the times i'll never forget and the things I never got to say. I
know your looking down on me trying to console me but in my mind everything went wrong
and I wasn't even there... you just passed right along and I couldn't even hold your
hand. I wanted to be there... I had grown up a lot since this ever ending roller coaster
ride and just as I was getting off the dizziness still hadn't worn off. You were taking
away in the middle of the night... I wasn't even there and that makes me sad. I didn't
hear you voice... I didn't show any remorse and it hurts me deep inside that I will never
see your heart beat again or see you talk to me like you used to do. Everyday Regrets and
I keep on blaming myself in a story that just won't ever end and will continue until I
see your face again. I won't forget, I will remember... I disappointed you and that's all
I can say for now goodbye is hardly the words I ever wanted to say. But now your gone and
i'm living with everyday regrets.
Copyright © Shahana Jackson
My heart egos and my life drained from me
Simple life I live, I act as I know all
But I know not, no, not even a little
I earnestly seek for recognitions
But my life and my heart is a hole.
An empty vessel, soulless, loveless
I have been succumb by the pain of heart aches
I have become a broken man,
Know not what my future holds
I envy those who went before me, who were acknowledge
I hold on to the little shred of hope in me,
I am being drowned by my own sorrows.
Love, hate, a new beginning and ending of my old self never seems to happen
My wrath against my enemies is nothing for they humor me with insults.
Let not death come to me in misery and despair,
For life is full of joy and full of sorrows.
Love me, as who would love a stranger from nowhere.
Let my sorrows be taken away by the love of many
But at last, no one would.
Don’t cry for me, for no one knows me
They came before my grave and said “who is this man?”
“Why is the name not written?”
It is not written because I am nothing
Don’t shed a tear for the stranger such as me.
Life is like a dream on a calm sea,
As the captain gracefully steer and gently moves its rudder.
The passenger puts their lives in his hands,
A calm sea is the heaven of any sailor.
“So, where is my captain?”
The wind blows every so gently,
But my heart sinks gently into the sea;
Who will mourn for the stranger?
Drowned from my grief,
My faith begins to waver like a ship tossed around by the winnowing wind
My heaven, my calm sea turns against me as I sail the Galilean sea
“Where are thy words that calm the raging storm?”
Ay! I have no peace even in my passing.
I have not thy words of command,
For my faith has been tossed away by the hating winds,
Shallow, empty, and broken I lay here in an unnamed grave.
Only thy mercy will guide me to the third heaven!
Let my sorrows be washed away by the blood of the innocent lamp.
Let thy words be the honey drops for mine,
As this world knows only lies
Blinded by greed and lust,
They seek only to destroy of what they fear.
And my sorrows are tossed away by thy promises.
For thy compassion for lost sheep is great.
"Have I found peace?"
I have, for I know my heart is at rest when my body has aged
And my salvation has come
When I died with thy Words of truth
Copyright © LIde Sangtam
I AM NEANDERTHAL...
Copyright © das wanderlewis
Introduction: At some point of our lives, someone close to us departs off to the next
phase. We think of the good times and try not to think the bad; but sometimes it haunts us
back to how we responded in a naive way for our juvenile wishes. And sometimes we see them
in our dreams at the utmost optimism and glory. But the fact that we get to realize what
we did back then may have cherished and broken their souls in some ways, we always wonder
if we could alter the deeds that wounded their affection in our times of immaturity…And
pray that we get a second chance to do so for our next life. *the first two lines have some inspiration from another piece*
Even if our hearts were as strong as a storm, we’d still feel a little bit sad
Knowing that we’ve lost our grandfather, our friend, our dad.
For so many years, we’ve felt their presence
In so many ways, we’ve felt complete,
But truly, even if we deny – We sometimes skip a heartbeat.
Our lives are nothing but their memories and their art,
Orbiting us each day, reminding us of who we are
Where we stand and to whom we belong,
We pray and cry up oceans for them night after night
Praying to be together just one more time, in the worlds of light.
But yes you are so fortunate, that you got to leave,
You’ve made it to the greater step, I pray for us to meet.
May your soul be blessed and may it shine brighter than the sun, Again and again
‘I love you’ it’s not a lie, I may not have said it that much
But I hope you knew inside, even if I may have been unkind as such
Nothing is left for us to do but feel the tears stream down our eyes
For we, once in a while have broken their hearts with one or two lies,
Their face glows and vividly fades away from our dreams those nights
That’s when we fall, fall down to our knees, pray for we could have changed
The ways we reacted back in those days.
Thoughts of those moments, thoughts of their sorrow smile
Now makes us realize how we never cared,
For that to overcome, we treasure the good times we’ve shared,
The times we’ve heard them say “You’ve made me proud”
The times we’ve felt them lay their hands, oh so be crowned.
Their tender touch, their forgiveness
Their blessings for us and their happiness,
We pray to feel it all again
Bring it all again,
To the eternal life, after this time.
Copyright © Aqeb Be-Nazir Ibn Minar
Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked.
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.
Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!
When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.
Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.
Copyright © Muzzaffar Ahmad Shah
At night I see your smiling face,
As if the chains of our love were unbroken.
Your look of utter devotion pervades my sensibilities.
I know it's true for many have said,
That you died loving me alone.
Yet you never fought hard enough to let us know.
I guess that secret has gone with you forever.
I cry frequently when I reflect on those irretrievable moments.
At times I feel imprisoned in a bubble that no one can penetrate
Memories however can never be erased.
I have constant flashbacks to those days so many years ago.
I see you in my mind's eye,
You enthralled at the sight of your firstborn.
And your words "that's my precious"
Seem to reverberate in my brain.
Are you now watching over me?
After all, we were once man and wife.
Copyright © Althea Pierre Lee Look
Stuck at the bottom
I'm caving in.
One thought of you not here
Puts me in a claustrophobic nightmare.
I can't wake up.
I may not see you again.
Reality isn't different from my sleep.
I'm still running aimlessly away to nowhere.
I'm so blinded.
Every second is hidden that I'm spinning in circles.
Makes me reckless, violent, purple dead.
Over and over something's wanting me to say
I was a creep for treating you that way.
Can you forgive me?
I promise I won't make you cry.
One more chance I'll be a loyal friend.
Walk to your door.
I'm closing in.
Standing on thin ice there's no turning back.
I'll say it straight out without fumbling.
For once in my life
I confess it was a mess.
Screwed up everything special we had planned.
But now I'm here alone.
Hope is my only invisible ally.
I raise my white flag to the skies.
Will you operate my wounded heart?
The stakes are high.
But I'm willing to continue where we left off
If you have room in your heart for rent.
Copyright © phillip chong
(LAMENTATIONS BEFORE DEATH BY A DEPRESSED SON)
YOUR DREAM FOR ME WAS SO DEEP
THAT IS WHY I WAS BORN FOR KEEP.
YOU WANTED ME TO BE A TRUE SON
AND WANTED ME TO SHINE LIKE YOUR SUN-
YOU WANTED ME TO FOLLOW YOUR VALUES;
YOU WANTED ME TO BE IN THE RULES,
AND BE A MASQUERADE OF YOUR OWN
SO THAT YOU BE PLEASED; A SON LONE.
YOU WANTED ME TO BE A CHRISTIAN
AND WANTED ME TO ENTER YOUR TRAIN
OF HOPE AND GOOD LIFE.YES GOOD LIFE.
OH FATHER!HOW I HAVE STRIVED!
I BELIEVE YOU GAVE BIRTH TO THE WORST
OF CHILDREN IN THE MENTAL FROST;
CHILD 'MONG THE WORST, AN ACCURSED.
I AM THAT CHILD WHO IS CURSED-
FORGIVE ME FATHER.I AM SORRY.SORRY .
CAN'T FULFILL YOUR DREAMS;I'M NOT HOLY-
I'M INSTEAD A CHEAT;THIEF,DISGRACE.
I AM A BAD AND BAD FACE-
I AM THAT USELESS SON YOU HAD.
I AM THE BAD CREATURE WITH CRUEL HEART.
FORGIVE FATHER.FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE-
I CANNOT STILL BE YOUR SON;HOW I GRIEVE.
YOU HAVE NO HOPE,DON't DREAM-
YOUR CHILD IS BAD AS ALL SEEMS.
FORGIVE ME FATHER,SWEET FATHER.
GOOD BYE (WEEPS), SORRY FATHER....
Copyright © Gerald Nforche
Please forgive me...
Sometimes th' hardships of life,devour Th' Lamb within
Strife n' cares of this world,often render me carnal
Pain and past failures,exhume hideous expressions of hate
Animosity it seems,pacifieth these insurrections too surely
Pardons are non~existant,in these upheavals of melancholy
The abandonings of my love,leaves my soul segregatious
Reckoning runs rampant,for seek of repression's remedy
For an cure for this curse,I long for th' day's dawning
My friends and lovers of fair,I beg your patience for my burdening
In th' finest moment in time,I hope we share bluest skies
For all hearts' desires granted,I would lay myself to rest
Even ones who loathe me,I would not allow their seclusion
If my truest of spirit and flesh,attain symmetry harmon'd...
You will see expressly how precious,you are to my delight'ng
But so many wounds exist,of battles long 'fore fought...
It is of a truth I am,from them all...dying
Copyright © Randall Martin
Because I have so little time,
I only hope, for what is mine--
in my blood so dark and hot
is a bright and fevered spot--
O let me be, to sing again
without the penalty of pain,
lest I, before my time, be torn
from life, and to the grave be borne--
my nostrils full of soil, my ears
stopp'd by grave and ritual tears--
O let me be, lest they will tread
--my children-- on their mother's head
before my song for them is done,
before my course on earth is run,
before they learn the song I sing:
that love can conquer
this poem is written in the shape of a funereal urn
Copyright © Judyth Vary Baker
Somewhere a poem
is waiting for me
to write it in the jewelry box,
coiled into an old ring
or stopping the hands
of a watch;
in the vanishing barn risen
to the top of the pail
to be skimmed off;
or in the tree outside
engraving in green ink
on the other side of a leaf.
In my old room
the white curtains blow
like ghosts of themselves
over the sill;
under the bed misplaced words gather
to grab my helpless ankle
it is a poem
the Child I was hides
in the ear of the woman
I have become a poem
who's lines were the lines
of my fathers' face.
Copyright © April Bartaszewicz
It is an old drama
this dissappearance of the leaves,
this seeming death
of the landscape
great in a later scene,
the trees like snarled magicians
out of empty branches.
And we watch
we are like children
at this spectacle
as if one day we too
will open the wooden doors
of our coffins
and come out smiling
all over again.
Copyright © April Bartaszewicz
Your gaze hindered by the fading of our hearts.
Darkness consoles my soul,
malformed monsters swept into my lofty room.
Remorse all about me.
Anguish dwells where love use to lie,
shrouded by the darkness,
ravished hearts dissolve in tears.
Sweet fervors no longer abound us.
Anxiety cruel that it is,
attacks my morbid soul.
My love that is dead reeks stale,
encompasses my aching head.
Torment fills the air,
memories yet to share.
Melted by emotion lost,
caresses envelop my heart broken.
Darkness takes over moist rays of the sun,
profoundly empty solitude,
alone with memories of you,
dwelling in my ill-starred head.
Melancholy waltz lulled by subtle idleness,
harmony's confidential tone,
flung into a sea of amber.
Grandeur swept from swaths of my life,
corrupt agility aspire,
unique sweetness melted away.
Cruel life sleeps,
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham
Though you may be sad loosing a loved one..
You weren't there When God lost his only son..
You may think you have many a debtor...
You weren't there when Jesus was betrayed with thirty pieces of silver...
Though you may be weary and laden with despair..
You didn't witness when they tormented him and didn't care...
Although you may be in agony and immense pain..
You weren't there when the Lamb was fatally slain.
You may think that you cannot carry on and life is grim..
You weren't there when they mocked and spit on him..
Although you may have too many worries at hand..
Look down, you weren't there when they put nails in CHRIST'S bleeding hands.
Although you think you have been badly scorned...
You weren't there when they forced on his head, a crown of thorns..
Though you may feel that everything in your life is going wayside.
You weren't there to feel the sword that pierced HIS bleeding side.
Though you may think that you really don't want to live.
Christ loved us enough to die on the cross, and he will forgive.
Copyright © Twelve Noon
I wouldn't miss you, I'd never think about you or wish you were apart of me.
You held my hand since I was born, you've led me left and led me right
and make me so miserable. If I could walk right out of you, I'd leave you far behind...
You take all that I hold dear, you make me prideful and arrogant so that I think I know
The dearest earthly treasures seem fitful for my lust and for this;
If I could walk right out of you, I'd leave you far behind...
O' sinful life I'm done with you, disgusted I ever knew you and ashamed I called you friend.
If I could walk right out of you, I'd leave you far behind...
You used to have a hold on me, you made me do things I wouldn't do
and things I would, I didn't. Though you call upon me still, I shall not go, for you
cannot lead me too far from GOD and yet you try; If I could walk right out of you, I'd
leave you far behind...
Grace has made me whole, delivered me from self and sin and fills my every need and
desire. patience He gives to me and willingness to be all He's deemed I'd ever be.
I am His vessel of mercy and this I do know, If I could walk right out of you, I'd leave
you far behind.
O' sinful life I'm through with you, disgusted I ever knew you and ashamed I called you
friend. One day, O Precious day, I'm gonna walk right out of you and leave you far behind.
(c) Nov. 21, 2007 Rosemarie Schrock
Copyright © Rosemarie Schrock
Sparks like a bright light lit, from his tortured heart,
The weariness of a lost soul that carried a flame
through the wind.
Rashness in his speech.
For giving and forgiving.
Here his alms.
Here his family.
For giving and forgiving in deathly rain.
Meeting in the quavers of silence, which time carried.
A charter oak tree.
In a lions den.
Engrave on it the date.
From the Liberty Bell I hear no ring.
Copyright © Joni Gerech
At the Gates
Why does thy heart always peer outwards?,
The first time I saw thee,
Thine eyes shone with a strange light,
I would have loved thee eternally,
If thoust heart had not gone on,
And left this world forever,
Encased in your snowy tears, born from wicked abodes,
Forever now you will be trapped,
Between this world and the next,
The night I promised you, the stars are your betrothed,
If I could only see thine eyes again,
I would have died a thousand deaths just to hear you open the gate again,
And glide upon the gravel in your familiar faerie step,
It is only in my most wondrous dreams, that the creatures of the night speak your
I sewed it into the fabric of the night in sweet lament,
And waited for the sad advent of winter.
And begged on hands and knees for the return of your snowy tears,
Thy heart peered outwards and thoust eyes wove only silence,
Thine eyes shine still with strange light,
I wake in my sleep for the thousandth time,
To speak your name
Copyright © Amanda McMullen
If you knew it were your last week of life, how would you spend it?
Would you remember to pay old debts or call old friends?
Would you make amends with your family?
Within that last week of life, what will be the most important issues to you?
Do you visit a far away land or just have someone close and hold their hand?
Take a moment to consider how you will spend your time, please spend it wisely.
I pray that the precious last week of everyone’s life be spent in joy and peace.
Take time everyday to make time to say all the things that are most important
within your heart, because all too often we never know when our last week of life
on earth will be.
Copyright © tiffany Renard-Uren