All my dreams evolve around my wooden floor
Candles and clowns the show must go on
The Moon slowly moves its way into my room
Dust pushes through my window making shadow puppets on my walls
The talent on my walls dance, scaring my sweet dreams away
No cradle-songs tonight
Dangling artisans’ fingertips scratching down my core
Exquisite observation, an alley down “Death Street.”
Panic rattles my bone,
Stuttering a taste of ma' ma' ma' mama' off my lips
Grandfather clock ticks with every pull of the string
Invisible jellyfish puppets swaying their feelers that sting my site
A superior skill eating away at my fear
I can’t breathe,
I can’t move,
What can I do?
Carved Marionette figures locked in my head
A game in which trickery and deception are the main events
Staged with an evil sinister mask, sanctioning my nightmares.
No one to rescue me from the danger of this bedside playground.
The puppeteer engages to provoke me with my own dolls.
A dramatic performance throttles my mind …….
I cannot come out from under my blanket,
I cannot run,
My hands cannot reach the circus print lampshades!
A shadow show played in slow motion!!!
Realizing the moon can pull a world of strings with its own light
Suddenly, boney fingers from the sunrise show me the way…
I look down until my toes touch the cold wooden floor
I creep and creep,
Then I flick on my lamp.
The purple walls swallowed the orgy drawing inspired by the mooned night
A huge diversity of graphic illusions of puppetry in my room vanishes in one click
Mother please no more Pinocchio in my lullabies! ;-)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years
And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!
Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets
It can be the cost and the intellect of your overdose in question
Go ahead and dig your own grave
I have already commissioned your headstone
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates
---will leave you babbling, even in your crate
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.
Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives inside your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around,
---leaving you within a near death experience every night.
This' ghost left behind will wreak mayhem on your soul,
Shh! Listen to your walls, they speak quite a routine.
Once you see yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes.
Do not believe this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!
If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better remember
--- that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense
Leveling your entire room with fear
Not even your frightened watery eyes will salvage your soul
Nothing will come in handy before you expire.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate your obituary.
“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “By Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
Everlasting rational fear.
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012
A vision through the haze of time and rhyme
a mirrored beauty, Helen sits and waits.
I see her through the window for it's late,
at dawn, I'll bring her death, for she's not mine.
As yet, the key's not turned in lock sublime,
and I will stand and wait as fear dictates.
The Master's carriage leaves at half past eight
then I approach the shrouded outer gate.
Through the door and to Helen's room, I run,
and grasp her tightly to my beating chest.
I tear the cloth from her and she's undone.
Helen prays for her Paris dispossessed,
as on the satin sheets my stanchion drums
out of fight and breath, she acquiesced.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
A little tale about the real me
twisted all inside as can be
the visions of the end
is all i see
F.T.W. setting my self free
waking up with the thought
"SURVIVED!" another dream
holding my head under water
no one can hear my screams
cursing each and everyone
for this demon has won
taking over my soul
ripping out all my sanity
reliving over and over
the day i took my own life
my own hell is more than an element of a dream
slicing my most deepest vain, with the dullest knife
a fear so dark lashing out a terrorized scream
reality, to sanity, losing my main brain
a deep dark fear lurking, red blood stain
creeping up a MOSH caught in the way
F.T.W. we are all to blame
inside I dread the day of my rebirth
shout my guts into space for I have faced
to slow down the beast with a potent power of radiation
a frame out demon skinning the philosophy you once new
an evil more than vile, a poison worst than sin
motivating his way in to my voyage of my on tormented life
a DEMON dust from Neptune possessing me its rings
never to think in my wildest observation
I would encounter my own depths of a zero pointless energy
giving to my by the lighted gravity of humane
restricted on the eyes, for the ones who do not wish to see
a trance faster than the speed of light
ending myself to a forever night
fighting with them who reject to see a demon so twisted
dropped from the cosmos of realistic
no one wanting to acknowledge the relativistic way
that time travel out*** and Demons travel in***
lost forever in this rotten being
making me shout out loud to he
who knows my name
dealing with the devils Darkest Poet
in a Dark Poets game
just a dream soupppppers lol. : )
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
My adored is here, Oh Vincent!
Charming with your perfume's scent
not minding if it costs just 50 cent.
Wishing to lean on you
and form a crescent
on your well endowed body
which is like an expensive present.
Stealing a kiss from me is decent
but pulling me back
and forcefully keeping my legs bent;
even with my resistance,
you would not relent
makes you a pathetic Dog 100 percent.
And I am regretful of my time badly spent.
I escaped, when you were a little complacent
as you rudely smiled
like a badly trained Adolescent.
And all these while,
I thought you were innocent.
How dare you try to penetrate
without passing through my consent?
Now that the beast in you, you represent,
the only thing I have to say to you
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2012
A burst of white light
gamma rays, overbearing
a flash of brilliance
burns through to my soul
everything is like hell
the world starts to melt
in the blink of an eye
just the cold blackness
I don't care if I am not again
what I once was, for at this moment
I am greater now
than ever before
I took the path between
teetering, tight roping walking
right up to my right
divined in my unholy state
I thought I told you
I am your king
still you sit there, hesitating
I know you hate me
what does that mean?
I hate just about everything
still I'm chosen
I did not wish before
now bow down to me
refuse me no more
for I shall always be your demon
until you accept me as your King.
I don't even know you
though you say we used to be
best of friends, you and me
the day you ditched me
I remember now
exactly how it played out
back when we were just tiny things
even back then I still was King
you thought me stupid
just a ruse
I would laugh inside, you see?
not one of you single, mean people
ever even knew me
in a world, mostly seen to me
that is why only I can be your true King
and bring forth a new source
of light everlasting.
As two worlds collide slowly aligned
one wrapped in shadows
one bathed in white
evils swirling in the clouds above
I'll always be the king you love
to hate or despise as in your blood
I thought I told you, I am the one
I am the way, the way out shall be shown
breathe in my spirit as it carries you away
breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space
and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough
higher than you've ever dreamed of
for I am king now, and your in my hell
your in my imagination, I'll just never tell
you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now
if you try and see
you were always found the most
shared in the light cast upon me
the last bright star in heaven.
Denounce my name, if you may
One year later, still not afraid
A black sheep, a darkened spade
That's just life, I'm not right
I'm in the wrong, follow along
Like a piper, I'll pitch a song
Mesmerized, the weak wills sing
I thought he told you, he's still our king.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2011
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.
Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.
Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
Here I am.
The dark settles in,
Reminds me I’m alone.
Ghosts of my past haunt me today,
I truly just want to go home.
Separated from my life today,
Barred from my destiny,
Wasn’t meant to be my fate,
How could this happen to me?
I was going to sparkle,
I was meant to shine,
The only question
Why did I do that line?
Crystal she cried out to me.
She swore I’d be ok.
She would never leave me,
She was here to stay.
She made me feel so special
Gave me such a high,
She made me not care as much,
Until she made me die.
SHONIE M. GRIFFIN
Copyright © shonie griffin | Year Posted 2012
The greatest holiday gift I ever received
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears
I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin
For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so
Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading
We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy
We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores
On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through
A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee
My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve
This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for
We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me
Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2012
Mary Rose, the mighty sailing sea vessel glided majestically across the waves
She had robustly and bravely sailed the briny waves for many a night and day
With the ocean's heaving gusting squalls blowing off proud stern and mast
Sailing victorious and proud - her billowing white sails were cast
The calm, liquid waters of the sea flowed quietly purple for now-
Unaware of the coming storm that would beat furious against her bow
Her alabaster sails whipped violent and furious in the oncoming storm
Impending doom was yelling its cries while the seamen went unwarned
Down below, inside their cabins the seamen peacefully slept
Wrapped in the secure watch that their gallant captain kept
The oceans black, boiling waves beat savage against starboard and port
As Captain Noe standing fearless - at first quake, did not the storm report
The old wooden beams of the Mary Rose began to restlessly moan and creak
While the blackened roaring, rolling waves beat furious against her feet
Her alabaster sails rose proud- beating mighty against wailing squalls and gusts
While deep inside the bow in bunks, the sleeping seamen thrust
Suddenly...they heard the captain's distraught voice cry out
When the seamen heard his voice -they heard fear without doubt
“Awake, all of ye’ ”, Captain Noe forcefully roared
“Alive! Awake… all ye’ seaman come quickly up on board”!
The savage spirit of the sea reigned fierce with rage and fear
While the brave captain fought - loyal seaman brought up the rear
They courageously fought together - not silenced by the eye of death
As the sea raged violently against them with its brutal, menacing breath
To save their mighty Mary Rose, they’d dip their very souls in blood
Leaving themselves merciless against this drunken, mighty flood
With plank and bow standing fierce between them and their fate
The raging ocean’s fierce, blackened waves - the sea they could not hate
The morning brought the warming sun which rose broad above the waves
The winds had tamed their violent voice against captain and seaman brave
With unshakable courage and seaman’s wit not once were spirits broke
Each cheered his mate and captain strong as they fought with steady stroke
Their peril fought in days of danger and night filled with pain
Their manly courage did not wane - their fight was not in vain
For all the courageous seamen and their brave Captain Noe
Joined together in hand and spirit to save...their proud Mary Rose
Copyright © anne p. murray | Year Posted 2012
Beneath the realm of Reality
Lies a secret- a world of fantasy
Feasting my eyes upon the faded stone
Delving into a vast world of the unknown
Whispers dance in the curling fog dancing amongst the dead trees
Murmurs of those who have long passed, float against the breeze
Passing the large tree, the gate surrounding the stoned castle
A slender inhabitant, dazzles my mind, his speech facile
Shall I trust this unknown creature, from this the unknown world
His arms, his...tendrils, curl...and around me swirled
My thoughts-he knows them-for he and I are entwined
Further into the dead woods I wonder, a sense of fear encompassing my mind
A bubbling stream I faintly hear, as further I go into the forest
The watery grave seeming to get closer, it's symphony-a chorus
Entranced I follow this fellow into the unknown
Closer and close to the stream i go, further away from the grey stone
Above the lines of fantasy
This, has become my reality
Dreaming-this land I return, once was I lost
But now here I am at home, everything quiet and soft
I search for you amongst the dead
And there, standing behind those gates is cloaked figure-hood on head
I wonder who this master of mystery is, but he soon disappears
A blink of my eye he is gone, and I have not seen him again in years
I search once more for you, my fiendish friend,
But soon I fear you have left me here-to come to my own end
I do not wish to wake, I do not wish to leave this place
Soon I come to spot your featureless face
The King of fright, so tender towards me
Showing me, when I lost my way so long ago, out misty dead trees
But I could not stay away, I wanted to see him again
And thus he promised to return to me again
That forest land I wish to see once more
But I have lost my way, trapped in a darkness forevermore
Kept away from what I so desperately yearn for
To return to that mysterious home I adore
Copyright © Rebecca Larkin | Year Posted 2012
September 29, 2012
This secret life of lies you keep
Cause me to stumble and in pain to weep
Shine a light in the darkness
Help me travel safely through this darkness
This wretched, blasted dark you keep me in
All the doors locked, I crash into obstacles never to win
This race, not without a light
Without a glimmer, a candle, something to grant me some sight
Because I can't continue to wonder-
This darkness on my own blindly
I try to ease my way around the blocks
But still, in the dark, I fail to see the holes
And I fall-hard
And you're gone
And alone I weep
Because I cannot make my way without fail
All I ever wanted was to be your friend
But you will not let me in
So I continue to blindly wonder in the darkness
Copyright © Rebecca Larkin | Year Posted 2012
A runaway train a life full of pain
Running avoiding the hurt
Getting away with lies, dancing in the rain
Treating everyone like dirt
Call me insane
I am my on freak on my runaway train
Running like the gingerbread man
Running as fast as I can
Catch me now if you can
Abandoning every life plan
Removing the ones in my life I cannot stand
Finding myself in Rome
How the Hell did i end up in another land
Take me French men by the hand
Sent me back with the runaway brand
Trust me it is no joy to feel like a toy
Runaway train has been my only joy
Leaving everything behind
Meting myself as a homeless in every cargo
Runaway train in my on matchbox
Runaway train lighting up the flames
Runaway train my life full of speed
Running avoiding my hearts need
Tracking me down and you'll find me in my own
( Soul Asylum) lost in a ( Runaway Train)
********A FUN SPROUT
My runaway train has ended
, everyone joined, jumped in my cargo
My runaway train all the supers mended
Waiting on them who joined my Wells Fargo
Thank you everyone for closing the contest,
In less than 24 hrs. Did not expect that.
Being my first contest and all,
I looked for one thing i needed to see.
A different point of view Of what I wrote above
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
It's in my head
Underneath my bed
It's in the rain
They call me a code red
The label reads INSANE
He loves me, he said
I'm out of my mind
Doctor, I need my meds
I wish I could rewind time
Back into his arms
Everything he said was true
A straight shot to the heart
Why is everyone mad
"saying I lost my mind!"
I'm so blind, crazy in love
What is love?
Crazy they whisperer!
Saying I kick myself every day
You were never real
Yet so Real
You were never real
Yet so Real
I stare at the wall
I stand still
I lose it when he does not call
Without him, I have no will.
Rocking side to side
Pulling my hair
Yelling, I Love You
It's not real, yet so real!
Rocking side to side,
With my eyes open wide
You bounce me like a ball
Dropping me from the top of the hill
My heart stop beating for one second
Before that final fall
My heart did not break
His love is still there
I feel it every day
I love him, he loves me
His love is real, he's waiting for me
My love for him is real,
As crazy as it may seem
I know he loves me still
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010
Dreaming with my eyes wide open
Ultra Death sits by the bedside
On your knees, you are crying!
Along the floor, now you are dying!
Swallowing the pain inside, demanding for the reaper himself
If you want to see dead people
This GHOST will bring you face to face with the luminance
Once you cross over, you're in absolute fright
Lost in a desire to see the spirit world,
Drowning to be a part of it
Can you hear that low bubbling noise rising up from within?
Wait, wait that is, he or she…. *The dead*
No... You are still gurgling of your stomach, is it?
This hunger is not indigestion, it is Mount KILLomen about to blow
The Ghost Effect enters the soul, in pieces after the first glow
A 'Ghost so potent enough, it will wipe you off the face of the earth
Like a trace, every fragment of this Ghost is a killer
If you are kindling it, you might not live to tell
Find a way to exercise it with extreme caution
When ‘The Ghost’ is around
There is no going back, once you have experienced it
You’ll never encounter a way to fight off this evil intrusion!
After you've lived, the ghost will haunt 'long after the soul is gone
First, the sensation that you're buried alive,
Then the frightening phenomena feeling begins
The ghoul is trapped and clawing its way to the surface
Savor the evening with pain until they come to claim what is left
Living loud, with a tortured soul
Having inherited- SATAN'S BLOOD
This Ghost has a forked tongue
Misery made everyone believe that he was just another ghost
Until you see, ‘The Ghost’ and what he or she has done?
Experiencing how it makes the blood boil like a thousand fiery lashes
Falling from, Satan's whip, only hope can escape his snare
Wishing for a Laxative
To flush the insanity, that haunts through the years
Calling this The End…………
By: P and The Ghost-CoWriter
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.
Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.
Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.
Copyright © Jeremy Lin | Year Posted 2012
In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores
for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `
Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
The red album, The blue album , The White album
Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
Ringo's face , something hard to understand underneath~
I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears
For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence
Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died
I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it "
No .. this was not my hero in music and song .
he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes
bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss
One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
his world of secrets
He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
The very sad long and winding Road ~
Let us Bury our real Paul.
No more " Mystery tour "
No more fear
Let him be in peace ~
Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Probably not real
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
"You Wanna Play!!!"
Deep into the forest
I found a wooden doll
Porcelain eyes, creeping from behind
Like TV, the music haunted every step
Falling into a paralyzed state
The moonlight darkened before my eyes
Bitter taste of sulfur covered the scene
My heart pumped itself to sleep
Pure evil waltzes around the frigid floor
My body of stone Claimed by a sudden voice
"Get Up! Get Up, before I devour your soul"
The same wooden doll, dark porcelain eyes
Now speaks, his claws bracket around my neck
"Get up, Simon wants to play with you!"
In a sick demonic way, I woke with my lips sewn shut,
Silent, but alive!
Simon sang a song
"Simon wants to play, Simon wants to play! "
"Simon Says, do as I ask or else endure pure evil"
I wanted to jump to my feet
But, I felt frail and powerless
"Simon Says, beg for Life"
I kneel, pleading with my hands
For he knows I'm mute
"Simon Says, yell a little louder."
He can't hear my screams
Simon bites right into my mind
My eyes began to brim with tears
He dances pushing tangible fear
Simon then speaks,
"Simon Says, to stand on one foot."
Blood slowly slips as I stood on one foot
"Simon Says, get on the floor, slither like a snake
I slithered for a few seconds, then I stopped!
"Simon did not say to stop!" he mumbled
Snatching what remains of my heartbeat
Simon laughs, while my screams,
loosen the thread around my lips.
Simon then pulls a dagger from his little vest
A slash at my ankle - I fell
"Simon then says, get up!"
By this time, my adrenaline kicks in
This wooden doll, dark porcelain eyes
No longer scares, I slam Simon against the tree
"But, Simon Didn't Say."
Finally, I broke free from the insanity of imagination.
Taking control of Simon's game
Simon looked at me with a sad face "Saying"
"Simon doesn't want to play with you no more."
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
psychotic image triggers
For the Senryu a movie scene contest
Copyright © John Trusty | Year Posted 2012
I Don’t Hate America
I like the country I live in
That doesn’t mean I have to sing their songs
to prove that sh@!.
That doesn't mean that
I can just can’t get over the fact that
they murdered the people who built it
America was dedicated to a proposition that
“all men are created equal, except
for women, indians and blacks
The white men were just fine is what we were told
but what about those who were stolen that never made it over to NEW WORLD?
The ones that were thrown overboard and
those who died from sickness while in transport
Remember those who were born into slavery and never even knew what freedom was before their physical bodies left
and people like Thomas Jefferson
He understood that slavery was wrong but did not free his own until his death
What about those who beaten senseless and burned, and hanged,
All while screaming “Nigger" What’s your new name?
Oh how soon do we forget…
That’s why I despise that word and
I don’t care who it is that uses it
#u$k that slavery sh@!
And #u$k that flag b@%ch!
#u$k you America because you’ve always made things hard .
So don’t look at me strange when I show those songs disregard and those fake ass patriotic undertones about how we are the land of the free
more like the land of the captured and the Home of the Slaves, see
I don’t’ hate America
I can be and do and go as I please
But, then I remember the poor people they injected with disease
They thought they were getting free health care but the doctor is giving them syphilis
I remember the natives of this land
They slaughtered and labored them to work for freedom in their own land
I remember the Civil War
where we were a country divided by the Mason Dixon Line
The north and the south of the same country at war to save lives
I don’t hate America
This is my home
But I refuse to let the things that
my ancestors endured during the struggle of building SUCH A FINE COUNTRY be forgotten
It’s 2012 and the politicians still plottin to find a way to take away the black vote
It’s the same shit, but now they just don’t use the noose to choke the life out of souls
I’m so tired of the constitution and it’s loop holes, and amendments, and acts, and laws
This just proves that man can’t govern themselves because even with all these rules we constantly fall into the black hole deeper and deeper
I don’t hate America
I just choose to not take part in its little song and dance
I pledge my allegiance to God
and continue to write and lose myself in my poetic trans
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
The wall of horrors was never to be addressed.
I watch these monsters emerge as marvels.
Ten little white thumbnails aglow were detached setting in two rolls.
A short man stood by himself with such a pose.
There was a giant of a man in the line of the wall very composed.
These monsters would visit my house for what I do not know.
However, on this particular night, my skin begins to crawl.
The wall of horrors was never addressed even with my grandma being of Irish blood.
The short man that stood by himself was a Black leprechaun.
He would just stand there and show his rotten teeth.
I would shout out to him who are you to be.
The giant would not move one inch.
The little white thumbnails were also men.
Let me now mention the black goblin who eyes were effervescent.
The wall of horrors was not addressed.
On this particular night, I became rigid.
Hair follicle felt in the arms cause me to jump up and run.
In the front room, I went to tell my mother about what I see.
She told me go to bed.
I was an obedient child and went as she said.
Fast asleep, I desired; however, I only closed my eyes.
I will awaken, as day broke, with new profound knowledge untold.
PENNED ON OCTOBER 12, 2014!
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2014
In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die,
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown,
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
Copyright © Cole Banner | Year Posted 2013
Lightly the rain falls upon the lamp lit streets, the shabbily dressed figure
Walks with an air of uncertainty down the cobbled stone streets, leaning,
On his rickety cane, the elderly gentleman huddles beneath his umbrella Of refuge.
Shadows of the tenement brownstones line the edge of this rough necked
Part of town, here is the sheltering halls of the forgotten do dwell, the poorer
Venue that slum lords build their fortune’s foundation’s upon.
The gentlemen approaches his own dwellings dormancy with hesitations
Beating heart throbbing within his small fragile bent frame, for he knows
Tonight shall be his last night on this ethereal plane of existence.
For one last moments belief reflection he remains completely still, just to
To feel the autumn breeze against his bare flesh, to hear the rain drops hitting
Against the window panes, and to bid his final farewell to humanity.
Taking out his keys with his wrinkled twisted hands, he unlocks the doors
To his apartment, turning around to look outwards the gentlemen sighs, it has
Been a hard life, but I’m resolved to meet the next adventure, then he shuts
And locks the tenement’s door.
Weary from his days traveling the elderly gentlemen, climbs his steps upwards,
Towards his little room in the back area of his apartments, then he sits at his office
Desk for the last and final time, now to complete my journeys final entry, he thought
To himself this writer of the super natural’s acclaim.
Dipping his quilted golden pen into his ink well, the master writes one last line,
The end, or is this just the beginning?
Clumping over, clasping upon his desk the elder gentlemen’s heart lies stilled
As if at perfection’s final rest, his golden pen now runs crimson, bleeding downwards
Across the aged parchment paper, dripping onto the old wooden floor boards below.
The office door blows open a tall figure thus so enters, dressed in a raggedy robe of black,
Thread borne and full of tares and wholes, the creature approaches the dead gentleman,
As if in a screeching howl, the Grim Reapers touches him, ripping his spectral spirit
Free from the fleshes boney shell.
I’ve come for you old man, resist me not for your sins are heavy, and I’ve no time for
The ranting or ravening’s last pleas for salvations from one such as yourself, I have no
Last wishes qualms my friend, take me at your leisure, for I’ve grown weary of this life,
And it’s lonely emptiness.
Then the room grows cold, the ethereal disturbance ends as quickly as it had begun,
Leaving only the shell sitting at the old wooden desk, what happens when the writers
Golden pen runs crimson, bleeding downwards across the aged parchment paper,
Dripping onto the old wooden floor boards below?
The world of humanity thus so weeps for him, for he is the grand master of darkness’s
Written word, the skilled craftsman’s whom reveals what lies beyond the darker realms
Ebony gates, by his darker words of wonderment.
Farewell Mr. Edgar Allen Poe, we shall miss you always, you whom welcomed death
So easily, but the world of men is left empty without thee, as thy golden pen thus so
Now runs crimson and lies stilled forever.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
SCATCH A CHARACTER CONTEST
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
The glass walls caved in with a roar
a yellow storm that broke the faulty veins that had been
up till now
And I, clutching a rag of paper in guilty hands
curled up at the end of a dilapidated wooden bench
at last doing what I should have my whole life –
Late, once again, on the one day lateness is not excused.
I have always imagined the world ending
with a shattering of stained glass
we had painted to portray the thing we called beauty, and
that had shined vulgar colors on us for millions of lives;
a jolt of awakening from some nightmare into
something that cannot be as easily defined,
for in all minds it is a different message;
a violent wrenching open of the hidden crack of light
in an atlas that had seemed impenetrable, endless –
but the entire time had merely been an idiot’s doodle.
In that moment
whether it be in a dream like this or in some
mad state of visioning
the feeling cannot be snipped and trimmed
and stuffed into a four-letter word,
for it defies all language and
pulls the strings hanging from mind and soul and stomach
pulls them and plays a cat's cradle game with them
and leaves the limbs wild and dancing
with the silliness of a drunk man’s misery.
And yet all fell back into order when I opened my eyes
from a dream that had the power to awake,
and glanced at the rotting walls.
There seemed to be tremendous joy written in them, for
I saw at last their stains were of glass.
Copyright © Grace EunSong Lee | Year Posted 2010
The Day My Uncle Died...
I was thinking about the smile on my uncle’s face….
This was a before he would “leave this place."
I'll never forget the words shortly before he died.
The more I thought about it, the more I cried.
He said, "you know Jimmy I wish I got to know you better."
I never received another phone
call or even a letter.
A few days later he was ready to go to a funeral.
But it was also him who received a burial.
I was shocked and amazed as to what happened.
The events took place. There was no way
I could "stop them."
Memories I had were from many years ago.
I often think about him. And I do miss him so!
I suppose many don't take the time to realize...
How quickly life passes...
Then someone dies.
Perhaps there's someone in your
life you can think of…
There's been a situation that you're
embarrassed to "speak of/"
A harsh word said, and angry thought was spoken.
And soon your relationship has been "broken."
This may be a good time with this person to spend.
Irregardless if they're what you'd call a "friend."
Everyone is important to God who reigns above.
We need to be filled with his mercy and love.
The person you haven't seen shall one day disappear...
The days are short... Our journey's end is so near!
May God speak to our heart and help us to see...
Where will you and I be spending our eternity???
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012
A supreme soldier walks truly alone in the depths of night
he is soft spoken from a life of being so hard that he was stoned until his eyes filled red bloodshot in his sight
he notices what he once thought to be? Was wrong and very far from right
So he asks God for forgiveness from his very own darkness that it may to like his Redemption be shone upon his lost light
He knows its no longer about the bullets in this battle for it is the words in his very own Mind that will matter most in this life among death upon a written soldier's fight.....
Copyright © Travis Lone Hill | Year Posted 2012
The american economy is on life support has been for years. Sad it makes my heart fill with tears. The land we live the land we love. America is in trouble no doubt but i don't worry about it i let GOD take care of it that way i don't got to figure it out. I want to see my future but not as a blur.
Copyright © craig schaber | Year Posted 2011