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Epic People Poems | Epic Poems About People

These Epic People poems are examples of Epic poems about People. These are the best examples of Epic People poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic | |

The Joy Killing Poet

**Back smile/smile Back **

With your heads way up your :]ssa[: 
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease, 
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well, 
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage 
With progressive mental retardation 
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips

He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight 
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in, 
The madness in Alice's Wonderland 
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle, 
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs

Cross My heart and hope to die!!!

~SKAT~


Details | Epic | |

An Unshakable Identity

hospitality, peace and mutual respect; we’ve chosen because the key to our prosperity is love, unity and cooperation settlers now on the cheat as our true identity is kept frozen but no matter what! We will reverse it with our landmark ordination the threats against our heritage and culture may have risen it has kept us unique, unshakable and uncompromising though there are bastard judases in every dozen the failure and exposure of their deeds are amusing the buckles of our identity we will never loosen no matter how the invader tries strategizing or putting our inheritance into some sort of categorizing No! is the answer, none of us will lose being a complete citizen


Details | Epic | |

Song in the Dark

~
There are legends I've heard, old songs in the dark
of the old folklore tales, and the old gypsy trails,
where traveling caravans of rugged old wagons
still echo, with longing, in valleys below...

Where each treasured belonging,
was packed in a hurry 
all the stories, all the worry, all the heartache would travel
all the sunshine, and the sorrow, celebrations to marvel
and  dreams of tomorrow, were kept on the road....

The trail was a friend, and the loam was their home
Their needs were quite small,
For,  they didn't expect, to be wealthy or rich.
All the riches they had, were scarce and so few...but they knew
that happiness could be the sun on your back, or a sky, wide and blue...
Not much to expect,  and not even respect...
would be theirs to be owned.

As the twilight would come, under a red setting sun,
with the fragrance of loam, and the tired walk done... 
they would bed under trees where the heather was strewn
they would burn a small fire, and prepare a warm meal,
with smoke in the breeze, while the whippoorwill's song 
and accordion tunes, would drift by the face of the moon

On their heels was the dust, in the noontime sun
They rose with the dawn, and the gold of the past, 
wearing the colorful hope of tomorrow's new task 
Working wherever a meal, and dollar would come
Then moving again with their band until dusk
over, and over and over again...

Some called them tramps, and some called them small thieves
But the heart of the matter, was the love of the sun,
the love of the life that came from the moon,
from the stars, and the grass, and the rust of the leaves

For those who encountered, and who gave them a chance
could learn many things by watching them dance,
and learn many things by hearing them sing,
and pay close attention to how much they knew
that fortune is something that comes from inside
It comes with the pride, of knowing what matters
The tattered, lost life of the old gypsy tribes  ....
      might be the saddest of stories, or loneliest song... 
                    a song that has faded,
                                that has dwindled and died....






_______________________________________
5/18/12   2nd place in PD's "Epic" contest


Details | Prose Poetry | |

War Against The Flesh - Part 3

Roaming the Streets Like a Wildcard With a vendetta,
I Ignored the Ache that was Thumping Against My Brain.

                              - Like Some Sort of Haunting Medicine -

It'd been Months Since Daylight. It All Started with  
The Darkening of the Sky. Then After, Came The Visions.

                              - Street Preachers with a Cause -

Those Religious People I Befriended But Never Took
The Time To Listen to, Vanished by The Church Load.

                              - Then Came The Slaughtering -

Those With Souls as Black as The Richest Tar. Found
In Disturbing Circumstances, Nailed to Wood.

                              - All The Blood Rushing to Their Heads. -

Now All That's Left on This Limbo of a World is us.
The People Who Never Embraced nor Rejected Him.

                              - Ragdolls For The Devil -

Following The Light Brought Me To a Small Camp, A Fire 
Blazed in the Middle, and my Arrival Attracted No Attention.

                              - I'll Hide From The Fire -
                                  They Burn out Fast

If The Smoke Attracted my Attention, Then
They'll Receive More Uninvited Visitors.

                             - For Now I'll Sleep Near The Camp Not in It -
                               - Sleeping Near Company Eased The Mind -
                                               - Made it Possible - 

Random Scuffling and Gasps Followed By The Screeches
and Noises Caused by Tearing Flesh. It Woke Me From Security.

                             - Raping Murdering Creatures -
                                   Upholding Their Design 

The Noise Died Down and Uneven Footsteps Trailed into
The Distance Behind a Deranged Doppler Effect. 

                             - ....Tend to The Wounded -

You Can Talk to Them Minutes Before Their Bulb Blows,
But How Do You Console The Damned? 

                            - Life is Terminal -

A Cancer Created to Spread, and Spread We Did. 

                           - God Added Restrictions -

Every Pregnancy Miscarried by Involuntary Abortion.

                           - Humans, Following In League With Dinosaurs. -

...  If God Wants You Dead,
                                          Where Can You Hide ? ....


Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps


Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom


Details | Epitaph | |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…


Details | Epic | |

The Whisper

As I sat at my computer, wondering what to do,
A whisper in my ear said, I have a job for you.
Startled I looked around but no-one was there,
I was alone in the still of the night.

I recalled my wife told me of Samuel, 
A prophet back in biblical times,
I felt foolish, knowing what I had to do,
I was alone and simply said, God, is that you?

I am who I am the whisper came back, 
And I have a job for you
I have looked at your life through your veil of tears,
And have decided just what to do.

Are you God? I asked, hardly daring to breathe,
If so then I've something to say.
Why has my life been so hard to live? 
I've struggled right up to this day.

I've been kicked and beaten, left battered and bruised,
Laughed at, spat at, abused and accused.
Each time I have tried to better myself all these years,
It's ended in sorrow, no laughter, just tears.

God, have you seen my distress from the start?
Why didn't you help stop a breaking heart?
I love you much and have never left you alone,
Through your trials and pain I see you have grown.

I have watched and waited for many years,
I have carried you long through your veil of tears,
The strength you have now is through My love,
Protected and guided by Me up above.

Remember the times when life looked so bleak,
Times when death was all you would seek.
No signs for the future, just lay down and die,
Who helped you My son? It was I.

You have asked many times why can't we move on?
Each time we were stopped, to help out someone.
Just when we thought it was safe now to try,
Someone else came along and on us did rely.

There are many I love and will never let down,
So I trained you My son through your years of despair.
When folk needed help, I knew you were there,
Sometimes just a shoulder to show that you care.

You have done many things, the world cares not a jot,
Your faults are forgiven, I remember them not.
When you work for the Lord sometimes you may stumble,
I will not let you fall if you remain humble.

Thank you Father for letting me see,
The wonderful life you have planned for me,
The journey is long, and hard every day,
But through it all I have learned how  to pray.

I'll follow You Lord, Your path I will tread,
My future secure, no longer I dread.
No fear for tomorrow, each brand new day,
To help someone else to move on their way.

© Dave Timperley 2012


Details | Light Poetry | |

A Merry Band Of Adventurers Part 1 of 2

There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me

The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest

& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers

There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys

There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells  … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted

There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove &  Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search:  For Soup & Treasure-Trove

Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A  Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !

There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay

There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That  Sir Lamoureu Pledge

Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But  She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords

We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman

Part 1  of  2


Details | Rhyme | |

The True Love of a Man

When I was just a little girl, I dreamed I’d meet a knight. He’d proudly wear his shining armor, and guard me day and night. I kept on dreaming half my life and searched as I grew. Until I found my knight one day, I found my knight in you! Before our paths crossed that day, my struggles had been great. But when I laid my eyes upon you, I thought it must be fate. You gently got to know me and embraced me as a friend. And as our friendship grew in time, we knew it wouldn’t end. As our lives were set in motion, we climbed mountains and sailed seas. And as we’ve shared our lives together, we’ve blended with such ease. Our friendship grew as years passed by into such an enduring love. This thing we have together now was blessed from God above! I know we both have said it. We feel it in our souls. We’ve devoted our lives to each other, and together we’ll grow old. The love we share is very rare, and should be held with high esteem. For some may only find this kind, only in their dreams. This is what God planned for us, to live here on this land. To be the best we both can be, walking through it hand in hand. Even when our roads seem rough, we must have a faith that lasts. We’ll smile as we share many today’s, and reflect gladly on our past. I hope I’ve touched your life my love, as much as you’ve touched mine. For this is the love I’ve always dreamed of, a love both gentle and kind. I believe we meet our “soul mate” only once in our lives. This blessing from God has come to us, I’m proud to be your wife. With all this said my poem will end. A poem for my love, who is also my friend! I want to thank you with all that I am, For showing me Darling, the true love of a man!
With all my love, Michelle Merry Christmas – December 2006©


Details | Rhyme | |

Plockton - Wester Ross

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?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job


Details | I do not know? | |

Comment on this

I write unto the blank papers stare

A ball point pen in hand without a flare

The words enscribed should be a future quote

As I am the best or at least so you denote



I listen to your comments out loud

And damn you make me feel so proud

I know that I am one of the best

For you tell me so at least I can rest



I take your words in heart with pride

As I feel you only read what "I" enscribe

But as I read words from others souls

I see the same reply that you told



I read the same things told to me

You basterds are just lying to please

You said I have so much to say

I took it to heart as if it where a prayer



I scroll upon others works of "art"

You all say the same crap never heard a negative part

So tell me I suck so I can have pride

To be different than all these brown knosing flys



"You have so much talent why dont you go pro"

Tell that sh1t to the fool on the rope

"As usual you stun me with your words of hope"

I get tired of reading the same for all poets



Giving each other hand jobs for praise

If you didnt hate me now, I am sure your on your way

Do I give a sh1t? Hell no I just laugh until it hurts

At your pointless rantings of whos best on the blurbs



I speak my mind and tell the truth

Why dont you praise yourself and save time of the youth

As they have more talent than you

For they speak the "truth" and say "you suck" when its due


Details | Bio | |

Maurice Glenn Turner and Randy Thompson: Fallen Heroes

Glenn Turner and Randall "Randy" Thompson were the best police officer and volunteer firefighter in all of Cobb County, Georgia, until March 1995 (WWF Monday Night Raw and WWF Wrestle-Mania XI) and January 2001 (Raw Is War, WWF SmackDown!, and the WWF Royal Rumble) when their lives were taken away from their loving families by Julia Lynn Womack: aka the "Black Poisoning Widow." It seems that it was these two guys in uniform who married the same woman, especially when she was after their money, totaling hundreds and thousands of dollars, even in life insurance. Glenn and Randy have been killed by a deadly liquid by the form of Etheline Glycol rich antifreeze; Lynn Turner used it to spike that of lime-flavored gelatin (green Jell-O), sweet iced tea, and chicken noodle soup. Now, how cold-blooded was that? But to be honest, Maurice G. Turner and Randy Thompson, God rest their souls, really never should've met this gold digging assassin named Julia Lynn Womack (who's now dead) to begin with. Their families, their colleagues, and the citizens of Cobb County, Georgia, they still don't understand why the lives of these two men have to end in a tragic manner. They've got a bunch of whole lives ahead of them. But now that Lynn Turner, who killed both her police officer husband and her firefighter boyfriend, is dead, she can't hurt anyone else ever again. Randall and Glenn are no longer with their friends and families (including their moms), but their spirits will live on forever and they'll see their loved ones in heaven one day. And as for Julia Lynn Womack-Turner, she got what was coming to her and may she burn in the giant pit of inferno for all eternity.


Details | Free verse | |

Carbon Monoxide (CO) Week 2: Carbon Cabrona

Smokeless inhales hurt.
I cough tar on my shirt.
As my black lungs breathe,
Shrilling exhales wheeze.

Cabrona
Falls me
Down to
My knees.

The nicotine cracks
My will.
My composure
Spills.

I want 
This.
I must 
Have this.

I sink
Into
The brink
Of madness.


Details | Epic | |

Red Leaf

,          ,          ,          ,          ,          ,          ,          ,           ,          ,

He is called Red Leaf…. birth child of autumn, and son of the trees
His euphonious legend is heard in the breeze
He is young, he is strong, he has proven his courage
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of the reaper
His spirit was not broken, by the weight of the storm
His steadfastness will not melt like the springtime snow
 
                                                            

He has honor, respect, and a gallantry within
His songs are his journey, he plays to soothe the wind
There is prowess, and valor in each haunting lullaby
He was taught by his elders, sad songs that touch the sky
His flute holds the stories, like the sound of lonely larks
Of loss, and death, of drifting smoke, and silent ashes
Of when the mountains cried in anguish, and the sky looked on in pain

                                                            

But yesterday creates today, and holds a promise for tomorrow
New songs are played, today telling of laughter of the birds
And whispers of a bluer sky, how gentle rain will cleanse the smoke
How buffalo will graze again, where the tall grasses will wave again
Red Leaf warms the tender embers, his memories linger on
He plays the songs that drift away,  
Trees above where branches sway
The rock, the leaf, the ruddy dust that coats the valley floor
Someday must return, and be restored, just as it was before

,          ,          ,           ,           ,          ,          ,            ,          ,          ,          ,          ,


Details | Free verse | |

Carbon Monoxide (CO) Week 1: O.D.A.A.T.

Chain smoke until
I'm in care of the CO.
There's one left, still.
I smoke it really slow.
"It's the end," I anticipate
As the last inch evaporates.

I can't get
Over it;
It's over before 
I know it.
Butt, I can't quit.
I'm possessed with this 
Obsession; I'm addicted.

My lungs have oxygen,
Yet I'm suffocating inside.
I can't breathe again
Without my 'noxide.


Details | Free verse | |

The Universal Man

I shall live and die By my own accord Only my God may judge me To him I've proved my worth I am still here fighting It matters not what for On my ship of righteousness Headed for waters unexplored The clear night sky will darken And the clouds seem ominous I take heed to the sure signs From them I won't digress They are in the way of my dreams And hopes that fill my sails Like the wind from my heaven Keeps my skin tough as nails Evil comes to tempt me I am not immune Sometimes I play the hero Other times I'm just a fool Either way the choice is mine I make it with my free will For that's the gift he gave me And for what I fight for still The government is coming To bring a chaos they call order The line has been drawn Between two sides there is a border I feel myself being torn To choose a fate in stone Let this be a lesson Why I wander on my own Minds can be controlled I see it every day The weak wills fall like dominos That lie littering my way An obstacle before me I iron will it to the end And when the devil comes to dance with me I have already started to transcend into everything around I am the universal man my true form I shall disguise I am hiding it from this great Satan they say will come for my demise I know he will find me maybe he already has in a long gone nightmare that my soul he stole at last if I remember correctly I can't say I recall ever escaping his grip or did it ever touch me at all?


Details | I do not know? | |

The Beast Within

Where does my conscious go, when demons raise their fiery eyes, 
They steal my very soul, killing all which is sanctified,
Engulfed by instant fears, no longer hearing loved ones cries, 
The beast within appears, telling me I am justified,

I have already lost, no reprieve from my mortal sin, 
All reason now is blocked, as I become the beast within,
No pity can I feel, as I make my grandiose stand, 
Yes the horror is real, as I destroy all that I can,

Where do my feelings go, when demons raise their snarling lips, 
Bringing an all new low, into my life now torn to bits,
Certain of being right, I flail and thrash as if in fits, 
I threaten and I strike, with great fury the demon spits,

Yet I still stand and shout, my ugly hate and derision, 
Accusing lies said out loud, revolting words - degradation,
Just look at what I’ve done, I scream my blatant confession, 
Ready to blame anyone, for my evil molestation,

Where does my true love go, when demons raise their gruesome head, 
Destroying all I know, without slightest hesitation,
There is no where to hide, hideous deeds - infinite dread, 
Shame crushes senseless pride, nothing left but devastation,

Recoiling in horror, reality enters the room, 
Now begins the torture, judgment of my now mortal soul,
The evil that is me, my conscious has become my tomb, 
I look and all I see, marks my spirit and takes its toll,

Where does salvation go, when demons raise their awful screech, 
Making damnation grow, as dark shadows envelope me,
How can I persevere, and escape from this demon’s reach, 
For he is always near, and may kill eventually,

Cold and chilling insight, I now realize what is at stake, 
And the one path which might, protect the ones I truly love,
But how can I just leave, this world I worked so hard to make, 
And cause even more grief, for family and God above. 

Where does my resolve go, when demons raise their deadly claws,
Tearing at all I know, stealing my conscious care and pride,
I can’t run anymore, all is destroyed everything lost,
Now beaten tired and sore, I’ve lost my path into the light,

Who can I reach out to, when all I love recoil in fear, 
Eyes beseech black and blue, where once was love - now only hate,
Yes I know - I’m the cause, the reason for each falling tear,
And while demons give pause, I must face my terrible fate.


Details | Cowboy | |

One of Texas's Best

“Back in my day” his stories all would start
I’d  lean in close to listen though I knew ‘em all by heart
He was a living legend, one of Texas’ best
Not just another lawman with a tin star on his chest

He fought along “RIP” Ford & John Coffee Hayes
When Texas was wooly & wild, back in the good old days
“One Riot, One Ranger” I’ve heard it said many times before
from fighting off Commanches to turning the tide of a range war

A Ranger never faltered, never imagined he could lose a fight
He’d  go hell bent for leather just to turn a wrong to right.
From Nueces to Salado Creek he patrolled the border land
Dealing out swift justice with a smoking Colt sitting easy in hand

Hardin, Iron Jacket & Sam Bass thought they could get away
The Rangers ran them down to ground, the stories still are told today
Great Granddad was a hero, one of Texas’s best
Not just another lawman with a tin star on his chest

He passed on the legacy & the stories I’ll now tell
as I hear his voice echo when I start off,  “ I remember well”
So tip your hat & raise your glass to the Rangers out there on patrol
and to all the Shadow Rangers, Rest in Peace, God rest your soul


Details | Epic | |

Fey Fallow Heath

Sheathed beneath fey 
Fallow heath; 
Ever reclining, ne’er still, 

Strenuous tendons, canvassed abruptly, 
Sewn and cast upon the ochre ash baize; 
Shards slanderous, prosaic splinters, 
Obituaries embroidered, solely trough grace. 

Sheathed beneath fey 
Fallow heath; 
Ever reclining, ne’er still, 

Ether let heathers, tore, tread an’ scorn,
Wheaten wore sought, tethered ought- 
Shorn, praised amidst, timorous gaze, 
Obituaries embroidered, solely trough grace.

Sheathed beneath fey 
Fallow heath; 
Ever reclining, ne’er still.


Details | Epic | |

All we need a pot in one piece

All we need a leader 
Guide us become one of us
Make us sincere against any killing
Protects our family to live our destiny
All we need a world leader one of us making in one piece

Making it boiling it
 Be part of it
 In taming is music to our ears
 Every morning sliding our badges
 Making our leaving gone in sinful slips

 Only hope rests pray our best
 Every morning sinking reality 
 Surge become more innovative
 Making us in a pot all sincere 

 All we need a commitment in changing rules
 Where money plays reigns in market
 To adapt them after turns our sake
 It may be time to think learn to leave as one piece


Details | Rhyme | |

Lakota

I'm very small
I am called Standing Tall
My story to be read as i live through it all.

Our Dakota lands are forest and vast
Where our ancestors have hunted
From long in the past.

Our tribes are, a confederation of seven
With our language of Lakota, Sioux heaven
We stand proud as we remember our past
And look to our gods, to make it all last.

A silhouette on the prairie hill i see
This shape in the distance is new to me
As we sleep in the night, we hear guns and blows
We arise from our camp, to look for the noise
We creep on the prairie to their surprise
Under the moon, where the land would flow
No longer the Buffalo.

We mount our ponies to challenge these men
What gives them this right to kill and maim
Bodies of beasts, furs cut away
Missing heads, a ghastly slay.

On reaching their camp our bows stretched
Arrows screech, hit the wretched
Watch them fall to the prarie floor
Just like the Buffalo did hours before.

Years have passed as we are moved from our lands
These poisonous men, and their poisonous glands
Bringing illness fever and strife
Ending many a Lakota life.

We reach a point in History
Which made the white man sit up and see
Their Golden Child General George Custer
And the Little Big Horn, my what a disaster.

Arapaho, Cheyenne and us Lakota too
Sliced the Blue Jackets, their Scouts too
The US Cavalry would have their glee
At the Battle Of Wounded Knee
Where Siiting Bull would finally rest
Standing Tall's story last's the test
If we Indians had the same resources
Like the silhouette on the hill
These praries we always had. would be ours still.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/native-americans.php


Details | I do not know? | |

Tishmandu

Tishmandu
 
My eyes can see
That the sand is like sea
And it stretches to the end of my mind
On a ship set to sail
with four legs and a tail
Tishmandu I set out to find
 
Now the wind is of sand
and can lend a hand
in tearing the flesh from your bone
So your head you keep wrapped
your snaps keep snapped
and you never travel alone
 
The heat at midday
is to kill and waylay
if the body and soul are not one
So you pray to the east
and prepare for slim feast
begging passage under full sun
 
Caravan of the seed
born on camels that breed
in an endless march between wells
Over lost count of dunes
under God and full moons
blessing passage with incense and bells
 
At the end of the day
when gold turns to grey
and the stars brighten the skies
A device is brought forth 
to determine true north
and the path where Tishmandu lies
 
On the fortieth morn
pressing lips to the horn
a signal beckons us wake
Leaving water behind
on a course now refined
the final leagues we must take
 
Tishmandu is a place
where a white mans face
has never been seen or allowed
But the people have need
and my service agreed
in a land under sky without cloud
 
Like feathers of blue
in the distance I view
the flags on top of the walls
Though my limbs are worn
my very fabric is torn
I move towards Tishmandu halls
 
At last in the shade
a walled shelter is bade
I meet with the maker of rules
A service I bring
but to rules I must cling
or a tortures price must be paid
 
Twenty days and seven
in the passes of heaven
I treated the sick and the lame
With rules on my mind
the medicines I grind
The devil of Tish for to tame

As I washed the sick
and avoided blunt stick
the God of the desert did smile
For the people made well
in this fortified hell
where spirit is subject to trial
 
In the end I am paid
for the journey I made
and the healing and medicine new
On my camel back
salted meats in my pack
I Bid farewell to Tishmandu
 
RAMA, Ink


Details | I do not know? | |

{.......Doors......}

You slowly open the door
...."These doors"....
And what is behind them
Quickly leaps out
Trying to take hold
An invitation
Toward the unknown....
The battle begins
Begins, for it's control!
Pandoras box
The forbidden fruit
When will you learn?
When will you know?
How many times
Must you fall?
How many tears
For them all?
A lifetime of lessons
A lifetime of doors
......"Time".......
At the end of the hall
At the end
The end of it all!
How many doors
Have you left to turn?
"When"....Will you ever learn?
These doors, like metaphors....
Knock knock, who's there?
Turn right
No, turn left
Through this door
No, go through that
Past it's corridore, to
It's if and or....
To, it's other door
No, it's many doors
Any doors?
In the end, you shall choose!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
{......Doors.......}


Details | I do not know? | |

And The Band Played On....Part I

Piranhas, within a canaries cannibal world....

Feasting upon the flesh, of another innocent and vulnerable life

Delivered by the hands of darkness' entrenched; unknowing but willing, messengers of woe!

In hopes of crippling and destroying, by means of ridicule, guilt and shame

The subtle and not so subtle, of the spiteful and scorned....

Chatterings like arrows, from their poisoned bows

Within comments and verse, and their opened air words

Always the same-looking for their entrance, to bring another to their knees

To evoke their own will? These amissfully mangled and subverse desires

Within, these shatteringly tainted dreams....

Relentlessly they search, for the Achilles heel, to crumble yet anothers hope!

Traveling through these mediums of morbids main, and fluttering hearts....

In through the side doors, and along the corridores, via way, of the shadowish mind

Enter the sublimes of deceivings presented, before all of Heavens sight!

While as half closed eyes stand in silence, all about, within muted watch....

Reminding myself of a case years ago; where a young girl was beaten, stabbed and murdered

As at least a dozen different people, cowered within their rooms

Amid her desperate cries, beggings and pleas for help; help, that would never arrive!?

So such it seems so very often, among many within this society in which we live....

Whom turn their backs and avert their glance; while bowing their heads, and walking on by

Back, into their own blackened holes!....(Cont)


Details | Rhyme | |

The Winds of the Night

The winds of the night creep in on you and they are up and about.
They surround you in the darkness and shed you into some light.
They are given and they are taken with your most silent thoughts.
They pass through your hidden fears and come from plain sight.
The winds of the night so clever and discreet they really are.
They hold no boundaries to your beginning and nor to your end.
They are warm and they are cold rising above you and reaching up from far.
They are of their own power and hold onto all claims of their own.
The winds of the night come sending a message to the unknown.
The winds of the night are aimless but when directed they drift all together.
They are dangerous when calm at night a sight not even one has really seen.
They are unsettled with no balance yet predictable by where they all concur.
They capture what is felt and heard because they’re accepted as they’re deemed.
The winds of the night come and go for they are on a lifelong mission.
They are silent within your journey for they can not be spoken to or touched.
They exist for your life bringing the world into its final rule on deception.
The winds of the night carry enough strength to lead a massive world into the unjust!








Details | I do not know? | |

Keep My Faith

Lord, I believe in You and myself,
With You I can do almost anything.
Even if I'm overweight...
I believe You'll keep me alive until the day
You want me back home with you.
I'm sorry for my sins
And all of us are imperfect humans:
Debating about beliefs, greedy thieves,
And everything else you hate.
So please forgive all of us and open the gate
To Your Heavenly Kingdom.
Have Your Son save us all.
Sometimes I believe I don't deserve You
And Your Promise for Eternity,
But Your Son's words reassure me.
I feel scared of the destruction in Your Revelation,
But remember You'll keep me safe
If I just forever keep my faith.


Details | I do not know? | |

Posin of Satin

I have tried to love
I have tried to befriend
But I have not recived a blessing from above
They have cursed my soul
My heart roars with the anger of being ignored
I have tried praying before
But the prayer made me worse, what was in store
My life was in hell
And the stinking smell
makes me sick, and green
Why did it happen and how
But now I remember my deed
I was with my friends 
and the party came to no end
when a handsome man came to me
he gave me a drink
saying the it was called 'The Dream'
I drank it whole 
and now I behold my fate
My fate of the posin I drank
From Satins hand 
He now commands my soul
Because I drank the posin
No one will ever love me
Not any more.


Details | I do not know? | |

Your Mistake

'Love is patient'
'Love is kind'
The thought of love
Can turn you blind.

But... Now we must
Take some steps
To verify those
Deep regrets.

The first problem you see
Was that. . .
He lied about
You being fat

That in turn 
Led ya to
Beleiving that
He 'accepted' you.

Mirrors were made
For a darn good reason
And thinking you are nothing special
Is high, high treason...

But no!
He's perfect
And no! He's kind
Seriouslly sister
You've lost your mind.

The recipe to love Is that
You have to love your self.
It's not about your facial features
Or the size of ya belt.

The man should be a rock to lean on
And not! A heartless swine.
So please next time. Do pick him wisely
Make sure he has a spine!


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!