A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
I died for all the nations, because I came to die
The father wants his children home again; in case you wonder why
Because of what the first Adam did, I, the last Adam had to come
Not just to save you from your sins but to make sure the Father's will is done
The Father wants his children home again, in case you wonder why
I came in the flesh, born to a woman and dwelt among you; just to die
And now all you appreciate is the day that you think I was born
Not reverencing that it was for you that I was beaten and my flesh torn
I love you so much that I paid the price, that you, yourself could not pay
I laid down my life before mortal men that you may live to say...
The Father sent his only son to die upon a cross
That I may make it home one day and my mortal soul be not lost.
Copyright © SARA MCDOUGALD | Year Posted 2008
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
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
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 ?
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
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
No man stands alone
in the street, the ring or the combat zone
some lay in the gutter
some sit on a throne
but no man stands alone
At the age of fourteen
he had a dream
to become a rabbi
then his dad was killed by men
who tried to rob the family store
his brothers and sisters were sent away
to an orphanage where they would stay
and though his faith was blown away
he vowed to bring them home someday
To God and man revenge he swore
he walked with gamblers,
hoods and whores
he fit right in
then on a whim
he walked into a boxing gym
he fought Canzoneri in ‘33
for the lightweight title victory
he made up with God
he could reclaim his family
Those McLarnon fights
were the stuff of lore
the only man
to ever put him on the floor
he won two out of three,
then in the Armstrong bout
he nearly died
but was never knocked out
then in 1941
the Japanese pulled a sneaky one
so he joined the marines
and he got a gun
and he sailed into the rising sun
he fought so brave
overmatched like old King Dave
he put twenty attackers
in an early grave
for the one marine
whose life he saved
in a hospital bed
for months and days
they kept him in a morphine haze
then sent him home
strung out and beat
to the pushers on the mean, mean street
Hollywood was very keen
to put his story on the silver screen
but they focused on the drug abuse
he tried to sue
but what’s the use?
Barney Ross was brave and strong
they couldn’t keep him down for long
his rabbi said that he must try
to be a model Jew in the public eye
but from the public eye he slipped
like a phantom radar blip
they say he hunted Nazi criminals
and he ran some guns to Israel
Barney Ross was brave and strong
I thought that he deserved a song
he did some bad
he did some good
and he saved the world
the best he could
Copyright © Art Wright | Year Posted 2013
im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
And I as I pull myself together
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now
there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.
Copyright © pat roswell | Year Posted 2013
Open your eyes to the ever turning skies
I want to here with me through the night
My heart yearns into your soul
Burning as if newly lit coal
I bravely submerg the embers
That the time I have can be spent with you
And I remember each kiss every moment
I was caught in your love that for just this day I remember
So what happened was a chance for your love
A time that I kept in a locket tied with a kiss
I wanted you to feel, to love, to slumber
And to awake in my arms with that times kept bliss
I lay silient in an umber
Copyright © Courtney Courtney | Year Posted 2013
I spent the last five years living in her shadow
so young, beautiful, and intelligent
and everyday he let me know what I was not
I did not do the things he liked, and we had nothing in common
she was the best he ever had, and I was just like death to him
I had his children I raised them by myself, still not good enough
His house was spotless, his children neatly dressed
I became a chef and interior decorator even went to school, just to be his best
it wasn't enough I would never be good enough
Then she died her hair red to hurt me
20 something and now calling herself Red
and every single site I went she was there
To let me know how things were going to fair
my back broken and my neck along with his constant threats
I did this and I did that yet I never left the house
Soon he built a fence and pad locked it I was not leaving now
there she was killing my pets escaping arrest and yet he loved her
a college degree she was brilliant in math, not me
I went through his hell and my own personal jail
I had it from all sides and I felt like I was going mad, broken I cried
I did and everyday I tried to move on from it all
All the stuff sent to me signed, love his Red
I got to where it felt like this horrible dream
so I left and moved back home in the night with my kids
I left him I left her I left them and the red left herself
I came home at 1 am with my daughter
the lights came on and with the furniture gone I was shocked
Had I been treated like this had I endured it all for her
someone teasing me with my own traits of personality
not very original but he promised to get help and he did
Soon he saw what the truth was and he let her go
but today I thought of her as I held his frail hand
how bad I was in bed and ignorant he said he felt
Soon I did see myself as the angel who fell from heaven to hell
no one cared no one would care enough just to say how are you
not him not her not a single human being but my children
I heard his hate screaming at me and others yelling loudly
trying to hold onto my sanity going to the chapel every single Sunday
yet all I got was the most horrible things done and said
I finally felt as if... You love her go to her and be happy
I will buy the hair color and give her style pointers
a better push up bra for her youthful looks but God please help me
Just once not care enough to say GO TO HELL
I was the one in hell alive
Just venting or ranting with no edit sorry. lol
Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012
I had a great job
I had a pretty girl
I was moving up
Slowly in this world
Had a good position
In the factory
And was working
For a very good salary
Then comes the war
And things got tough
They close the factory
And at home it got rough
I thought that her love
Was my umbrella
And when there’s bad weather
In her arms I would shelter
And umbrella can do a lot
When you are in the rain
It can keep you dry
Until the sun comes out again
For me it seems like hard times
Had just began to pour
And my pretty umbrella
Had holes I never seen before
The fancy dinners we had
Now become burger king
And I guess she never love me
Just the gifts I would bring
And I brought home a pizza
And she didn’t take a slice
And when I try to hug her
Her arms were cold as ice
One day she went out
And she never came back
And when I look in the closet
She took every last rack
But what can I do
Sure I’m not the only one
Who lost their job?
And their woman was gone
Always know I had an umbrella
Now I don’t know what to say
When comes the rain
She just up an flew away
But I know the time will change
And so will the weather
And one day there will be some one
Who wants me to be their umbrella?
Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2012
I can act insane
But DO NOT
Make me feel worthless
I belong in God’s family
He will bless my future generation
Don’t punish me for
Being myself –
Don’t envy my glee
I can act like an
Adult, but I’d
Prefer to have joy…
That piles upon us in our
Being childlike is
A rare beauty –
No one prizes it…
No one came across it…
In this lifetime…
I can laugh all day
I can make you smile
If you’d accept my
Childlike dreams of mine
Don’t treat me like a sick swine
Renew my young heart
Give me the ability
To kill the old man…
I have my place in God’s family
He’ll be adored and glorified
We’ll exchange prayers and hugs
By my future generation
I beg of you –
Don’t kill my childlike mentality
I’ll behave myself…
I’m positively sure that I’ll make you happy
I’ll still have pieces of a child in me
And pass it on to my future generation…
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
A place constructed in scents and colours
but walled by the bile of human character.
Chilling air leaving behind an itchy mind
and everything good in it, possesses a side effect.
A holy temple and a war zone are mixed bred
where the heart beats, jumps and relaxes in every minute;
where freedom is bagged and heavily conditional
and liberty, long been under serious medication.
The theaters are good narrators of its reality
b’cos every nice countenance and pleasant gesture
is a product of a well dedicated rehearsal,
hilariously crafting good times out of a certain time table.
The wind of joy crosses this dwelling
on its way to nature’s conference
but avoids the same road on its way back
as the red antenna signals its usual danger.
An Indian slave enjoys more freedom
and a hundred times liberty is experienced within a prison’s walls
than this place, merely existing to satisfy reality’s fame.
If this is a home- hell is an empire of peace.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015
Weren’t you the silly and stubborn young man who came to the land of the Free
and home of the Brave to work for free, starve and get no sleep? How dare you change
paradise for this?
Once the night fell you got on a tiny boat with a thousand others breaking your mother’s
heart and making the toughest man on earth cry, your father.
Oh you silly young man... smart, handsome, talented, and humble of only 23 decided to
risk it all. You had it better than most back home, yet you needed more. You needed to
set foot on the land of “Once upon a time.”
Days went by, weeks and maybe months, desperation came closer and the toughest
broke down, the braves returned back home to make it there as if it was meant to be like
that and the fool like you continued. Even though everything seemed to be endless, you,
I guess, you trusted God or were too blind folded by your desires that you didn’t back up.
Tierra! (Land!) Was screamed in desperation as a sign of relieve. Tierra! Columbus and his
men would’ve been ashamed of their cry announcing that they had reached land if they
would’ve heard you and your companions.
OH, you silly old man, still don’t own a home. Yet, feel that you have accomplished all.
Like a sleepy baby you got through the days. You made it through with hands that had a
mind of their own, fixing things, painting, and doing things that still amaze us all.
But you, you didn’t come here for the home, the car of the year, or the Bling Bling but for
the future of two little girls. Foolishness, ignorance and desire taught you to be the best
man to walk the surface of the earth, to be tough, to be brave like a soldier and to stay
humble all the way!
I love you Dad.
Copyright © yesica lantigua | Year Posted 2011
King Of The Fallen
Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eyes,and his charming smile.Once the prince looked over by and loved by everyone,no one knowing his true self.
See his proud stance,he stands and look down on people.
His gentle eye show nothing more then lies.
Such a caring smiling he uses to massacre thousands.
Let him rule your mind but keep your heart
Let him judge over you but never about you
Let him rain cruelty over but may you remain pure
Look upon my king see his monarchy shatter before his eye's,as the evil he has done catch up to him.His children taken,his wife's broken,and his castle destroyed.
Look at the prince who was loved,look at the king who was feared,looks at the king who is now fallen into despair.
Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eye and charming smile.
See his proud stance as he looked on down on the weak.
See his gentle eye's,see the lies that spur in them.
See his charming smile,like a wicked prince ready to tangle you up and put your out of your mind..
He has fallen
He is broken
He was taken
He is now in despair
He has ruled your mind,now his heart is gone.
He has judged you,now is being judged for himself of himself.
He has rain cruelty over you,now he is impure and Ingenta.
Look he's kingdom has fell and now the deed's of his injustice has ensnared him.
Look his leg's broken.
Look his eye's have been gouged.
Look his smile has been cut.
Look at his wives they are broken.
Look at they children are taken without words of appease.
And his home is destroy in flames.
Look upon the the fallen king,no tears shall fall from his eye's only the blood from his mouth,and the words of death.
Fare thee well world,this game of cat and mouse,and of death and life.How I enjoyed it to the fullest,but now my home is in fired my children taken my wives broken and my body destroyed.This must be punishment for being the King of the Fallen.
Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2012
Alas morning has come,
the treacherous storm has passed
Anticipation heightens my senses as the wind swirls past,
The essence of musk engulfs me;
Replacing the aroma of sea salt that once filled the misty air
I am assured that my beloved pirate is homeward bound
Perched upon my lighted tower
I gaze out across the horizon, waiting, hoping
For that first glimpse of the storm tattered sails
That adorn the vessel that had denied me that which makes me whole
Although the competition that vies for the heart of the Pirate may be grandiose,
There can be only one victor!
I cachinnate at your feeble attempt
To match wits with my poetic prose
Step aside Oh witch of the sea
And wipe the gull crap from your nose
Tis my beauty and grace that will prevail
I am the picture in his mind
You are just a barnacle
Hideous and unrefined
I pity you and your reckless dreams
Of captivating the Pirates heart
For no wretched wench of the sea
Could ever keep us apart
A Pirate does not long for
Raunchy harlots dressed in rags
Courtesans with damaged goods
Or withered old sea hags
Nor is it a rotund woman
Paunchy and robust
That titillates his senses
Filling his loin with lust
It is I dressed in fine linen
Pink orchids in my hair
The scent of passion I emanate
Will be more than he can bear
So step aside young peasant girls
Watch and whimper in despair
As he chooses the lovely Princess
Both voluptuous and fair
Your songs are inchoate and crude
Like the Sirens fatal call
I sing my celestial serenade
Your harm it will forestall
(Song of the Princess)
For I am your ardent Mariner
Manning the beacon that lights your way
Pacing the gallery day and night
From my post I will not stray
Time has yet to diminish
The taste you left behind
That gentle kiss that bid farewell
Remains within my mind
The vacuity induced by your absence
Has been replaced with a burning desire
To settle myself upon your manly hood
And extinguish the sensual fire
I touch my fingers to my lips
Then place them at my heart
A tear descends down my cheek
Creating the waters that keep us apart
In desperation I call to Poseidon
Great God of the sea
Hear my prayers, feel my pain
Bring my pirate back to me
Please hurry home sweet Captain
Oh pirate of the sea
Hurry home to the one you love
Well all know that ‘s me!
To all the strumpets that compete
It's time that we retrench
Save your hearts and walk away
He’ll chose the Princess not the wench
Copyright © Dawn Drickman | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
They launched at dawn, Jim and his mate,
both men unaware of their mutual fate.
The boat was small, the sea was calm,
and neither of them foresaw any harm.
This was something both had done,
at the rising of the sun
on many, many previous days,
they'd sailed out into the haze.
This time it seemed just the same,
the weather was mild, the wind was tame,
though neither of these good friends could know,
just how this trip was destined to go.
Before they left home they checked the weather,
the forecast was fine, and they laughed together,
because today was perfect for their trip,
so they headed down to the launching slip.
At last they were headed out to sea,
for this much anticipated fishing spree,
all bait and tackle at the ready,
their progress out at first was steady.
About six miles out from their home port,
lies a mark from which they had caught,
a lot of fish, over lots of years,
but back on shore there would soon be tears.
At three miles out, suddenly,
a thick mist rolled across the sea,
and rapidly they were so fogbound,
that they feared they would never be found.
Their boat was fine in sight of land,
but lost in fog, they'd never planned,
for such an eventuality,
blind with no compass, miles out at sea.
Copyright © Tom Higgins | Year Posted 2012
Identified by a combination of the third and eighth letters
is this region considered the best place to be born,
and also housing one of the most welcomed topographies
in a habitat highly rated and respected globally.
The father of the Red Cross
with a long standing tradition
of political and military neutrality.
Little wonder, its social vices are measured in a micro scale.
A quadruple identity of communication,
having the topmost position in chocolates making
and an unbeatable reputation in affluent watches,
Vacheron constantin being the unequaled and consistent trail blazer.
They seem to be the reason for soft drinks production.
They ensure Guinea pigs must be kept in pairs as pets.
The birth place of world most famous companies
and its power house decorated in over a thousand artificial springing waters.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015
The little sextant was diverse
to have position on the Earth.
While going in circles 'round the sun
and seeing all for what it's worth.
It shot through space
and saw the stars.
It passed through Heaven
paired with Mars.
It spun in groups
much like our own.
Through some not quite:
and lesser known.
In time it passed
our way again.
come home to men.
While those who watched
and wondered why,
would only say
that we're going by.
Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2015
A risky side
A twisted mind
He's a man with sorrow
He's a man on his own
I know your secrets
I see you losing control
I want you back
Oh I want you back home
To kill your sore
To purify your soul
But not a glimmer of hope
And not a glimmer of joy
You walk with a frozen heart
Making it hard for me
To leave you alone
Your nonsensical twist
Makes me shiver inside
The more mysterious he gets
The more attractive it gets
But not a glimmer of hope
Not a glimmer of joy
Your fatal deadly thoughts
Make me scream for more
I can never show, how much my love
For you was strong
But you're the one I blame
I'm craving on saving you
So I can slay you on my own
I try to forget,
But I find myself with regrets
You looked at me and said it straight
With no circles to spin
Baby turning the page,
Will lead us nowhere...
But not a glimmer of hope
Nor a glimmer of joy
I know your secrets
I see losing control
You're the one I blame
You're the one I crave.
**please feel free to correct and comment! :) ** MS-
Copyright © Mystified Story | Year Posted 2013
Lies our treasures
Our hope and fears
Explored in exploitation
People hurting people
We thought the europeans
Our only plights
We feared but hated them
In our innocent ignorance,
Of what we learnt at a glance
they battered and stole our sleep
But years after they are gone
Our lives has been worse
and no one cares
How we fare
Because you don't hear us cry
Like it's in syria
Yet worst things are done behind scenes.
Our moments of joy?
That we share with the sky
When no one hears them
Playing kids on weekend days
Bombed into ripples
And sunday worshippers turned to ashes
For God to take control
Heaven must be full by now
With my black brothers
In plenty numbers
Yet in our hearts
Lies the hope
As we we go close
To our hundreth year
Of self reign.
Copyright © NDIMAEME DAVID K | Year Posted 2013
I have waited a year for your return
Its getting closer
Things have changed so much
You have seen things, People should not have to experience
You set your life aside to defend our country
We are like strangers
Learning how to be a family again
The struggle will be great
But we have made it 13 years
Together we can do anything
Copyright © christie mills | Year Posted 2009
My battery fully charged
the week is brand new
all the lost loved ones
are telling me thank you
for bringing them to life
in my memory yesterday
now I am ready
to win in any way
and nothing can hold me
back from my dreams
people are staring
in utter disbelief
they think the devil
has contracted my life
little do they know
I took the path to the right
and now I am reaping
the rewards in my struggle
so much so that now
I've reduced my enemies to rubble
and now I am standing
on the power of my own
alive in the jungle of my mind,
my kingdom, I'm home
to see the new dawn
and for all those now gone
I will always remember you
and your spirit will live on.
Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013
It started when I was young.
I chose to take a walk on the wild side.
I drove my parents insane with my deeds.
I pushed everything good away.
I was bad, evil to the core.
Lying, stealing and cheating were all I knew.
Then the drugs and sex overtook me.
Riding on the slippery slope to Hell.
Satan had my heart, mind, body and soul.
He wouldn’t let me go.
I didn’t want him to.
I wanted my life of misery.
It was good to me.
I fell hard into his snare.
I really felt that was where I belonged.
It was a place to call home.
All my friends egged me on.
As I played games with the Devil.
I drew closer and closer to him.
Through Tarot and the Occult.
Witchcraft, casting spells.
It was so intense.
I never wanted my ride to end.
I was on top of the world.
Living in the fiery pits of Hell.
He reached down to where I was.
He took my hand and pulled me out of the muck.
He saved me.
Showed me a new way of life.
No more lying, stealing or cheating.
The need for drugs was gone.
I was taught how sex could be beautiful and pure.
I was free of Satan’s grasp.
He no longer had control over me.
My heart, mind, body and soul now belong to another.
He loves me.
In spite of the terrible things I’ve done, he really loves me.
He’s forgiven me.
Can you believe that?
Sent His Son to die for ME!
It was on a cross on a hill far away.
The Father couldn’t even watch as His Son paid the price for me.
All for Me!
Now my sins are all forgiven.
The Devil’s hold on me broken.
I am free!
Free to have faith, to hope and to love.
The best news of all is that the Son is coming back for me!
Right now, this very second, He’s working on my place.
My glorious home in Heaven!
Copyright © Karen Cummings | Year Posted 2012
I do not know?
My name is little Jonathan, I am old 4 years old
My daddy never loved me; my mummy’s hugs are cold
My sister is always screaming, she sometimes don’t come home
When mummy and daddy both go out, I’m left here on my own
My name is little Jonathan, I’m 7 years old today
My skin has purple blotches, that won’t go away
Daddy is always angry; he comes home late at night
I hear mummy and daddy rowing, that then turns to a fight
My name is little Jonathan and now I’m almost eight
My body is so scrawny, because I haven’t ate
The kids at school make fun of me, because of my dirty clothes
I’m use to taking the punches now; I’m use to blocking the blows
My name is little Jonathan, and soon I will be nine
A lady came to my school one day and said it will be fine
I do not live with mummy now, I live with someone new
I have some really lovely clothes, my body’s better too
I’m told what mummy and daddy done, was wrong, Thiers no excuse
A child cannot defend themselves, defend themself from child abuse
Copyright © simon nixon | Year Posted 2012
White Lighting Moonshine
drinking 160 proof white lighting moonshine
by the light of the silvery moon
the evening breeze moving through the oak trees
makes me happy
in the Shenandoah Valley
the firelight flickering bright
as my friends and I
tell stories some are true some are a lie
but by and by we enjoy
the way our lives unfolded
in the Shenandoah Valley
we were born and raised here
and here we will die
never been very far away
no good reason to we love it here
in the Shenandoah Valley
we play our guitars and fiddles
singing songs of life and lost loves
as we drink our 160 proof white lighting moonshine
by the light of the silvery moon
in the Shenandoah Valley
Copyright © Dennis Davis | Year Posted 2014
I will destroy you
I will torture you in anyway I can
I will find a way to defile you
I will break you for what you did to me
I will turn you old and gray from emotional stress everyday
I will never let you rest
I will drive a wedge between your illegitimate marriage
I will take from you what you denied me
And all of this because you believed every lie that was told to you about me
I will destroy your life in the same way your sister destroyed ours
By making you remember
I know you search to see what I have written. You should be happy you’ve inspired me to
relive all my pain
You took every ounce of love that I had for you and through it all away
You denied me a happiness that could have healed me and spawned much delight
Instead you are left with being attacked by a memory created by your sister’s lustful nights.
Mark my words you will suffer my pain
Nothing you can say.. No words of compassion will ever stop me from haunting your life
Remember this my sweet little saint one day your so called husband will see a ghost
And on that day he will come home refrained, he will come home one quarter less a man
than the half that he is today.
Be very afraid……
Copyright © Ron Flatow | Year Posted 2010
Deep breath to shake it
Cold chill slivers down fast
Beating against cage of heart
Cage of body
Cage of soul
Legs begging to run
Heart aching to be free
Truth to self
aching to be seen
Sweet scent of dry savannah plains
Sharp smell of thorny veins
The aroma of Africa surrounds
Scents sights sounds
In these home is found
Snarling at every motion made
Scared but defiant
Blinded by fear and rage
Paws long for endless journeys
On paths walked centuries ago
For elegance in element
A space all her own
Where earth still bleeds red on horizon
Morning and night
Continuing the endless fight
Fight for borderless freedom
The pale yellow green eyes
Dismays the truth inside
But tell the story
Of wild soul
Story to unfold
Copyright © Fierce Malilangwe | Year Posted 2013
A few of my basement Trolls wanted to go out, into the outside world.
And it would be an unkindness, if I kept them from giving it a twirl.
Still, they would need a job, you know, to fit their unusual makeup.
So, I sorted thru the myths, where the subject of bridges kept coming up.
The idea brought several running to build a bridge over our backyard stream.
Trolls are hard to fathom, but Low and behold, we’d found the perfect thing!
A bridge, dam, waterfall, and cave, all made out of rock, such a beautiful touch!
I promptly stocked the pond with fish. And got ready to show it all off.
But, my Troll friends had already found a home, and had fishing poles in hand.
Now, to step anywhere near the pond, a shiny bauble token must be found.
They didn’t get a job, exactly, but, yes, for them a better home was made.
The neighbors all wanted to employ them to build one, so beautifully arrayed.
That is, until they found the Trolls would make it their home and charge tolls.
In the end, I didn’t lose my buddies; a few just moved outside, so very bold.
For a few baubles and extra treats, some really great parties were often held.
In fact, they built a big barbecue pit, and cook my dinner every night, as well.
How did I bring forth this great accomplishment, you might ask?
You see, their home is on my land and that’s the token, I choose to demand.
We arranged: that my family pays no tokens, and nightly my dinner is on hand…
Ready to eat, but I’ll supply the fixings for them, too, that will be my treat.
I’m happy to say, they did go into the world, that day, in their own way.
And every body’s animals are safe as I supply what’s on the buffet.
And let it be known, I offered to pay them for all the great work they did.
But Trolls being Trolls, they wanted to eat dinner with us instead. :)
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012