Does the past really matter?
Does it set you free?
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me.
Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch.
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.
Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night.
I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.
Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone.
My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time.
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided.
My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.
Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree.
Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday…somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one…
Another one lost…
I wonder what the cost of my life is
not to get too political…
But I want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money…is it land
I do not own any of them…I’m just a simple man
I remember…When I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmother’s hands…
But you ripped my away from her…From my home
you ripped my away from my heart…you ripped me away from my soul
I feel helpless…I feel low…
It’s hard to play along when I know…I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love I gave.
When I look at my country…people I want to save
When I look around me…people I need to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
when the range of people is way bigger than you
Freedom…oh how much I’ve heard that word
Freedom…oh how this idea has become absurd
when God gave us life…
He warned us only he can take our lives…
Oh Syria…my home
Oh Syria…my all
Oh Syria…what did they hurt you for?
Oh Syria…I’m here…I won’t let them hurt you anymore…
I am Proud to be your son…
In the mountains near the land of Nord
Their lived a fiery Dragon
He had such hot and fearsome breath
Yet he kept his tail a dragging
Because he knew he wasn't bad
He was shy and that was all
And if he looked too meek and mild
Then folk would treat him cruel.
He met this little lad from Kelt
One day whilst coasting round
With fire belching from his mouth
And roaring fearsome sounds
The little lad was terrified
When he saw this thunder brute
And the dragon he was hurt indeed
As this fear he did intuit.
He said "I'm sorry little boy
But I'd not do you harm
I rasp and roar like this you know
So folk will leave me calm
I really want to be your friend
It's so lonely being me
Then the two they walked off arm in arm
It was beautiful to see.
Socrares Dec 7 2003
For Carol Eastmans contest 'Children's Fable
Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.
The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.
Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.
The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.
Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?
What happens when your only way out is so final, yet so beautiful?
When the only one you've got is your captor, your abuser?
When your chance at a legitimate escape is too far away, when you’ve just got to get away now?
I’ll tell you what happens:
You get a little crazy, a little careless.
You can’t remember all of the people who care for you, the ones who would miss you.
You get selfish.
You can’t see what causes it, so you can’t fix it… this dysfunction.
You know you can’t just change it, because you’re not the only one involved.
So… You run.
The first chance you get, you run.
But there’s no where to go.
You know they’ll come.
You know they’ll find you.
So, you run.
Just until you find a beautiful space.
It’s so beautiful, it might already be heaven.
You’ll find out soon.
It’s a beautiful cliff.
Maybe they’ll think you fell.
It doesn't matter.
Don’t leave a note;
Let them think what they will.
Now’s your chance.
Hear them coming?
They’re closing in.
Before they catch you.
This is your last chance to escape.
It won’t hurt once you've hit the bottom.
It can’t be any worse than everyday.
Do it now,
Before there’s anymore pain.
Don’t start thinking.
They’ll get over you.
Move on without you.
Before it’s too late again.
Nothing will ever hurt again.
Do it quick!
… Just Jump.
*This is the end of a tortured life.*
The bad guys win.
It’s the story of an angel with sparkling white feathered wings,
Whose halo shines bright & voice is enchanting when she sings.
Her eyes had a glint that makes you fall in love,
She brought with her all the peace that was above.
In her mind, earth was a place full of joy & happiness
Until a day that erased all her glee, all her gladness.
She used to think that all people are beatific & pure
Then she discovered most of them were cruel and insecure.
[She became a]
Her wings have turned to flames of hell
In her mind nothing goes well
When you see her you can tell
She’s a fire angel, a fire angel
Anything she does turns from good to bad
She used to laugh now she’s always sad
Fire angel, fire angel yeah fire angel
Red eyes, black hair, always in the shadow
Instead of feeling high she’s always being low
Don’t get too close to her she could burn you
She’s a volcano who erupted & destroyed everything too
What could change her back now?
If you know please tell us how
To keep her from being rude
Wickedness has filled her heart
And now she’s falling apart
Please change her bad mood
After she lost each & every bit of hope she had
And when nothing could convince her this world isn’t bad,
She found a bright light in the dark; she found her soul mate
And ended up forgetting all spite, anger and hate.
[She’s no more a]
Now her heart beats sound like music
Now she’s ambitious, strong and epic
Extinct fire she’s angelic
[Again…cause she’s no more]
The fire angel
Whose wings have turned to flames of hell
The fire angel
In whose mind nothing goes well
Fire angel,fire angel
Now her heart beats sound like music
Now she’s ambitious, strong and epic
A single kiss from thy lovely lips,
so sweet and so divine,
yet I taste posion upon your tongue.
Your beauty so glorious,
like a blooming rose so beautiful,
yet, why do mine eyes go blind
in the sight that you walk along with another?
Yes you, walk with another,
arm under arm,
lips touching lips in romantic kisses,
it makes my blood boil,
for mine lips are dry.
For mine eyes have seen your glory,
yet no one here listens to my story.
You are evil, yes you are,
don't try to deny,
Listen to a man of experience,
you might as well save some expense.
I write of our long romantic walks
we took together, under the shade of olive trees,
how we went apple picking in autumn time,
and made love in the foyer.
Nomore of that sweet and passionate love,
nomore silent kisses in the night,
when the wind blows hard against the branches,
that tape violently on my windowpane.
Nomore somber tears shed, when you got sick,
and nomore warm embraces when you shed tears of betrayal.
Betrayal now is a game played by a fool,
such as I,
to think I'd have a happy life with you?
Huh, only a fool would think such a thing,
but now I sit, looking at the foyer,
where we once made sweet, passionate love,
nomore will that foyer be filled with exotic pleasure.
Nomore will you be filled with smiles and exotic pleasure.
I've done my job, as a good man shall do,
now pack your things and get of my stage,
the spotlight yawns for anew,
and the audience grows tired and restless of you.
Now I live life anew,
you too shall see life in new eyes,
walking hand and hand with the blond, blue eyed devil
you call your own.
Shall he take one kiss from your lips,
and die of the posion he tastes on your tongue,
shall he go blind, when he sees your true, black beauty?
He will see the ugly soul, covered up by white rags,
and cheap makeup,
and then he will come to me,
and shake my hand in condolence
and say, "You were right!"
Now you are all alone,
looking for another, as you did many times before,
Now you are alone, walking an open road,
spying on another,
fear of being alone.
Now, you see when you play games with a good man's emotions,
don't try it,
because a good man is not meant to be toyed with.
This expanse of land has seen things.
Things all of us can only see in dreams.
It's seen war, it's gotten it's fair share of scars.
Bombs bursting, bullets throwing sand into the air like it's a volleyball tournament.
The sand running red with blood silently mocking our arteries.
This magnificent stretch of land has seen heroes' tears fall; dropping to their knees while sadness envelopes their fallen brothers but also looking up to their beloved whilst carrying a ring in their hand.
It's seen bright days, the sun glimmering over wet sand, footprints of past loves being washed away as the sun smacks the horizon.
This expanse of land...has seen things we can only imagine.
Random thoughts of you run
randomly throughout my mind,
as I hold, looking through a simple picture of you and I,
smiles and holding each other,
embracing warmth brings me to sanity,
watching your hand on my forearm,
as you gaze into my eyes.
Oh the tears flood such emotion,
only you and I now in such madness we call love,
such madness we all call life,
such madness we all call reality.
Thoughts of me without you,
I cannot bear to see such a sight in mind,
to hear such words that tear my heart out
and sadness stabs me rapidly in the back,
and I can't bear to see such a sight as this.
Thoughts of you
running randomly throughout my mind,
my hair turns silver and white with stress
of not being with you,
and my liver covered with cancer,
and lungs black with smoke,
and stomach embraced with ulcers.
All I ask for you,
is not to be a thought anymore,
and come back to me in flesh and bone
in a portrait painting of you in reality
come to me with your beauty and glory
and kind heart and hold me again,
and let me kiss you again and love you again,
and call you mine again.
Don't say it is impossible,
when you know and I know,
that it is in fact possible
to love each other once again.
I simply love being me
for I am so good at everything
step into my city and they
will tell you who is King
one day when I am hungry
I will swallow everything
then and only then shall I
inherit the stuff I dream
even then I promise
not to settle for satisfaction
at any instant half a second
I could spring into full action
so go against me? please,
you do not even measure
up to half of the goodness
that I hold tight like my treasure
still spreading rumors about me
to try and destroy my life
can't believe I let myself get beat by
a stripper and my self-intended knife
try and say I'm gay
even though we both know that isn't the truth
just ask any woman I been with
if they ever needed proof
they'll say I was the cream of the crop
as they took it all night knowing
I just may never stop
I own the status of a legend
now what you got left to say
when I bring it twenty-four seven?
the blue sky turns darker
as the Sun leads the wars
against dark moons
and dark allies
that take over our world
leaves become snakes
and theives rule the land
in the battle for days
our nights are in our hands
trees and flowers grow in sleepy cars
seas roam the galaxy seeking new ways
birds fly away in search of warm blue days
and all that remains are people and wishes
of fruit, love and wisdom
You are the light of a day,
I am the darkest of grays.
You are the significant Sun,
I am the forgotten Moon.
You are the sweet make-believe dreams,
I am the tragic nightmares.
You are a glorious angel,
I am a dreary demon.
You are the bright rainbow,
I am the dull rain.
You are the boat that floats,
I am the anchor that sinks.
You are the peaceful Valley,
I am the destructive war.
You are the tame beauty,
I am the wild beast.
You are the precious living,
I am the shallow dead.
You are the glistening stars,
I am the darkening night.
You are the wonderful strength,
I am the terrible weakness.
You are the beautiful heavens,
I am the unpleasant hells.
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.
As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.
I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.
I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.
And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.
And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.
He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.
And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.
Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.
She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.
I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.
I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.
The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.
Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;
But we still all cry,
Somber tears all fall in one big wave
crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.
Sitting alone here,
all by myself,
looking at a reflection that I do not recall.
I see a face looking back at me,
but not my twin,
no I see a pale face,
I see jealously, pain, sorrow, and a frown
I see all the negative.
I see fear,
I see nothing.
I am sitting alone,
in my room
white walls surround me.
I hear the trains blow their horns off in the distance,
and the cars and trucks roaring down the lonesome highways.
I can even the crying and wailing of sirens
blazing down the avenues,
"Where is the fire, folks!?"
The wind blows through my window,
moving the blinds back and forth,
and I sit there alone,
smiling and singing a little.
Sitting there alone,
peaceful and tired
wanting to rest my head,
but scared too face the nightmares.
Too hear the voices of the dead
call out my name.
And I sit there alone
thinking of what once was,
beauty and harmony nomore
in my trial of certainty.
A full moon night
to my delight
what is so wrong
with doing what's right
nothing is right
after so long
no use in complaining
time to move on
The Dream Water one day
might take me away
farther from the comfort
I float on my back
then shut my eyes
my body now sinking
into ocean arms open wide
Now swallow your son
back to his nature
when he is no longer
needed to stay here
the next generation
are dooming themselves
they need my experience
to guide them through hell
Why should I bother
on my own, I strive through
I turn my back on the thought
of bothering to save you
alone in this world
my, is it spacious
I'm finally smiling,
never so gracious.
The werewolves came at us full force, such is the course of war. We charge with great speed at the front lines of warriors, sensing a secnd of hesitation i seize on the opportunity. Gripping the first fool to stand in my way i shove him into his brothers. That shall be my mothers greatest success the creation of me for i will be king. Battles wage on many of my fellows have lost their lives this day, i will not let it stand. I burst into a trot then savagley i rip apart one unlucky wolf mans head with my bare hands. Without lossing speed i dive onto the guy next to him and rip his arm from its socket then proceade to bash him in the head with it until he is no more. The dogs retreat with great hast before i can slate my taste. Milky cream treat made for the lean marine. Five of my undead survive this day so we begin to leave for the crypt. I make one last fleating glance back at the old catsle i just escaped glad to have survived the day. Never will i forget the violet eyes of the pack leader, he should pray we never meet again.
I lay sleeping with eyes wide open,
I lay sleeping with dreams that have no meaning,
I lay sleeping with nothing to dream about.
I lay sleeping with no care and sleep with eyes blind,
I lay sleeping, there with my eyes wide open.
Seeing the dark change from dark to black.
There is no moon, there is no sky
just purple strokes of paint in the sky.
Take that morning dew smell and close your blind eyes.
Smell the morning, that smell that clicks in your mind.
The smell of childhood dreams,
that as an adult never came true.
Sleeping bare in the nude with your eyes wide open.
Thinking of her, as she is five thousand miles away from you.
Wanting to love and hold her, but no use in crying.
Sleeping their with blind eyes in the dark that dances in the light.
Your lamplight turned down low,
as life trickeles down in its nightgown and yawns for sweet slumber.
Tired from longs days, and sometimes long nights,
wanting to curel in bed and close its blind eyes.
Dusk will soon peek its head through the blinds
and awake life to a new dawn.
She sleeps in the morning, and walks at night.
When he sleeps at night, and walks with a bare nude heart in the morning.
Life climbs over yellow mountains,
and meets her fellow compainion
a handsome fellow with broud shoulders and blessed with an ego
as I sleep there with my eyes wide open.
As I sleep with my eyes blind to what life has intented for me,
and as I raise to walk the lone streets at the break of the dew covered lawn
at the first sweet smells of dawn,
I can see life go on with the handsome man
and I blind and wanting to go to bed.
I dream of dreams that have no meaning
Gardens of cluelessness and raging emotions
tare me down and I am confused on which way to go.
Do I stay here and dream away, blind and half awake
as life slaps me across my broad cheek?
Or shall I walk on with life hand and hand
and regain my vision of the world,
Start to sleep with dreams that make sense
and dreams that are made of gold and have no end?
Dream of fancy dreams that show love and happy endings
I would love that, and I would love to walk with life,
but she is out of my leauge.
And my bed is so cozy and I feel like sleeping.
So I shall sleep on more restless night chashing life down.
I lay sleeping with my eyes wide open.
I lay sleeping with dreams that have no meaning.
I lay sleeping waiting for life to come back from the mountains
and lay beside me.
I lay sleeping with hope of regaining hope and salvage
what is left of my spirit at hand.
Known as the Queen of Hearts,
the card of death,
that kids the Joker and kills the King of Spades,
The Ace of Spades shivers in his boots,
when she strides by in havoc.
Her beauty is what gets you,
so watch out,
when she comes rolling on by.
She is deadly,
like a black widow spider
ready to attack at any moment,
so watch out for her,
when you deal the deck.
There's fire in my lungs.
smoke flows through my veins.
I feed the beast my soul
to gain euphoric pain.
I serve he who lives in me.
The monster in my mind.
The creature so abusive,
at times can be so kind.
In my mental hell,
I sit beside his throne.
I tend to his desire,
so I don't have to be alone.
Here He is my god.
And I, in turn, am his.
A symbiotic worship,
sealed within a kiss.
Sulfuric fumes consume us,
as we dance into the ether.
The hands of god are ours.
Hes made me a believer.
My halo, so very worn.
His horns, so alluring.
Hand in hand we walk,
love and hate enduring.
His guidance lifts me higher
than any drug could try.
His chains hold me down.
bound wings can not fly.
Walking straight and tall,
crawling on my floor.
I am his moonlit goddess.
And his filthy whore.
I wont break his binds.
I wish not, to be free.
I can never escape him,
for this beast is me.
Jump up and down like a jackrabbit
running through meadows
running from what?
Could it be heartbreak,
a venemous snake that hides in the grass,
hiding with fangs ready to pierce the tender skin
upon the tight, bronze flesh of everyday life?
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now!
I need a vacation a long way away from the faceless smiles
and ignorance of young girls, who don't look at you,
who don't show you love and respect.
Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye now,
as jumping spiders hop everywhere, crawling eight legs around me
my soul black like carcoal, but my heart still beating
slower this time, not like the days before
and like the jackrabbit running from anything and everything,
I run to seek love and vanish away from the empty voids
that people call, their souls.
Recording a film with no tape,
talking to a woman you love, but not having the guts to tell her how you really feel
Jump my boy, like a jackrabbit, take my advice
tell her before she leaves
turns down the endless avenues of endless dark love
the trees grow taller, taller than you
and you sit there feeling away yourself die, missing out in life.
I cannot see you lose your love.
Say it, say it, Say it!!! Tell her! Tell her! Build the guts up!
Build up the courage, tell her how you feel. Take her by the hand and never say goodbye! Never say goodnight, stay with her till the flight comes in the morning
of the first rays of sun shine through your dorm room take her and love her!
Do not be like me, the jackrabbit! I see no happiness
Reading poetry it makes me sad,
to write of others falling in love and I never finding the one.
People tell me, you'll find yours, have hope
but I am a frightened little jackrabbit
who flees from sounds of deep emotions, not having courage to fall in love,
not building the guts up to tell her how I really feel.
She walks alone, I find my oppertunity and sing my love song
She smiles and moves on,
please tell me I cannot fight anymore.
All I have to say is Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye
I need a vacation
to go to some sandy beach on an island of love
and write and write and write, the same poetry that depresses me
but makes you all fall in love with words!
Fiction about love stories, please kiss me
Blue eyed death comes, plays a game of chess with me
I bet twenty, he bets my soul
Kiss me death, the only love I'll ever get,
besides my poet friends who kiss my ass
Listen to my heart, truely, I don't write of beauty
I write for the sorrow soul, the fleeing jackrabbit
running away from love.....
.Hera and Hephaistos.
Zeus and hera, King and Queen
Over all the Gods that ruled
In a fit of passion, one fine day
Made child, yet life was cruel
Hephaistos was an ugly child
All twisted out of shape
He walked just like a drunken man
Fun of him they‘d make.
The Goddess Hera felt a shame
In having such a child
She looked at all his ugliness
Her mind going all wild
She threw him from the mountain top
Into the deep blue sea
Yet Thetis took him down with her
For nine years there was he.
A gifted one he did become
A craftsman of renown
Forging artefacts of beauty
For the sea nymphs there to own
His anger at his Mother Hera
So he did work out his revenge
His plan was very cool.
He made a golden throne of beauty
And sent it to the Goddess
Who loved it, so did sit upon it
Yet though she tried her best
She could not get up from that throne
As it gripped her tightly there
She looked for someone to release her
Couldn’t find one anywhere.
They sought Hephaistros everywhere
To free his Goddess mother
And when they caught him he refused
He looked at one, the other
And told them I want Aphrodite
To be my blessed bride
Then peace made with his Goddess mother
One day he took her side.
This day when Zeus was beating her
His mother Goddess Hera
Hephaistros at his own peril
He did stick up for her
Zeus, he seized him by the foot
And flung him from the heavens
Yet soon the two made peace again
And then peace it did reign.
The moral of this story folk
Is to tell you with respect
That your children are not there
Your glory to reflect
A child must seek his own glory
Not try to live for you
So listen to this story folk
And hear it’s wisdom true.
Ice that will freeze the heart
shaking icy mountains
roaring like a lion does
thunder echoes around
with ice in hands body turns to stiff
heart faints weaker
Tears fall of cold imprinted on face
beneath his mask lips of lavender
face as white as a ghost
Fatigue of a warrior
ice blades that cut razor sharp
heart turned to blue
from harsh torture of his endless soul
among the most powerful
the king of winters
with ice of bone he conquers all
Brian Otoole .......
Poem for ((skat-oz ICE KING Contest))
(((I held an ice cube today in my palm for almost 15mins in my room with full ac power on held it tightly and after palm froze stiff I imagined the pain of dieing by ice)))
so I took sub zero picture you posted and it inspired me way more to write this poem for your ice king contest and feel to pain of the ice and cold in palm and in my room.im still very cold now even after this poem
I bet you’ll look so beautiful at my funeral, behind black lace, I bet a shattered face infested with grief and scorn rattled with streams of black tears like rain drops of plague. The nightmares are real and I’ll never know just how you’ll spend your time of remorse, never will I see that smile again. Not the way you used to give it to me. I bet you’ll dress to empress at my burial. Looking so slick and lavish. All dolled up in death blossom. The “what if’s” and “should of’s “scream in dog bark clutter through your mind to the point of exhaustion and illness. Struggle to breathe soft and silent to not disturb the congregation of the fallen. You’ll look around and see other lone women looking as pitiful as you while you’re trying to make up the reason why they’re there. It’ll be fine, just turn your sadness to hatred and curse the corpse to hell fire. Won’t be the first time anyways. You’ll look beautiful however, so those whores will know what time it is.
We have all lost our way
To see starlight gazers
And men with broken hearts,
Seeking love in all of the wrong places;
Vacant lots, where women all looking for something,
But not quite knowing what they look for.
We have all lost our way.
The only hope of humanity
Is the shining sun
That breaks through the blinds of my window,
And the faint memory of me and her
Lying on our backs in a grassy meadow,
Looked up and counted stars.
Cities burn away,
Sky, stars, moon, sun all burn away;
The grassy meadow
Where we once lay, all burns away
Everything burns away,
Memory and desire and love all burn away
With the snap of a finger, and a new man
In her own life,
And I burn away.
A picture of her hung high and praised,
A picture of me, in a dark box
That collects dust, in some lonesome
And dusty, cobweb infested attic.
And I burn away with a new day.
I burn away.
A nightmare that I can’t awake from,
It is endless and repeats
When thoughts of her are all over my mind,
I cannot take such nightmarish reality
Too see her and smile,
And she walks away without a trace
Of ever returning.
And I cry,
And I burn away,
The tears wash the fire away,
And turn me to ash,
The wind picks me up and takes me away.
And for one peaceful moment,
I do not cry,
I do not burn away.
For a moment I am happy
And I smile,
And go away for a while
And let them all sleep in peace.
Long ago a cowbird was raised in a white doves beautiful nest.
But there became a time when together the chicks no longer fit.
The cowbird came to a choice to either come out on the branch…
Or he could simply kick someone out of his warm, homey nest.
Now, he knew, if someone was thrown out, they probably wouldn’t live.
Decisions, decisions: he knew his future would be changed by this.
Mama white dove sensing his problem, had a talk with her little chick.
You were put in my nest by God, but can still choose what you want to do.
“I can never be God’s messenger of peace”, cried the little cowbird.
“I’m not a true white Dove,” he cried… with tears streaming down his face.
Mama dove intently listened… as her wings wrapped him in her warmth…
She said, “It’s your choice in what you do, that will make you who you are.”
See that crocodile below, sunning on the river bank below…
He lives alone because he destroys anyone and everything, that comes his way.
He’s mean, malicious, and hateful. He’s become what evil can truly be…
His heart, intentions, and choices sent him to live alone in a dark, muddy cave…
It was him who left God on one fateful day… not the other way around.
By how he lived his life, his decisions, and his actions… he decided his own fate.
The cowbird now realized there was a choice to be made on what he wanted to do.
He decided he wanted to be a messenger of God in the beautiful, blue sky above…
Than to live alone in a dark, muddy swamp cave, disgusting and evil to the bone.
So he moved out upon the branch… Then later helped the others slowly to the sky.
The moral here is easy… It’s not what you look like that makes you who you are.
A good heart is all it takes… to be a beautiful peace messenger of God.
Later that day, I fell upon my knees and prayed to God fervently,
“Lord God, with us, among us,
I am ever grateful, and I am ever joyous,
I thank you for the gift of existence,
And the gift of this Glorious Millennium,
Soon, among the many teachers,
I shall be ready for the Second Coming,
To share with them your awesome statutes
And heal the many wounded hearts
Soon, I will change minds with Your power and spirit
I will melt hearts, breaking them into the mortar,
As you smell the aroma of change lift into the skies
On this incredible, rejuvenated earth, all will have the opportunity,
All will have the opportunity to be saved…
Lord God, with the glorious Word, the shining Son,
In all of the joy and happiness,
I am aware of one bitter, dark, sinister being,
Who dwells in the abyss you tightly concealed to protect us,
This I ask, Lord– is there a way to his heart?
Will he always be evil to the end?
Is it possible that one can bring him to repentance?
I spoke with Christ and Noah briefly on the matter, Lord,
As you know…
I am aware that our words and our requests matter to you,
And we have some power, through your consent,
To change Your mind and even Your plans,
So this I request,
Can someone, with wisdom and understanding, if not You,
Save Satan, the Devil?”
There was a cool breeze all around me,
And His mighty voice replied immediately,
“Satan the Devil, curses Me as I speak,
Plots the death of you and your brothers,
He is the Prince of Darkness,
Contrary to the Law and Life I have sustained upon these replenished lands…
He bashes his face on the walls of his torment,
Vomits mockery and perverseness
At even the thought of peace,
He craves your blood and all others, envious of their innocence
Hating you because you please Me and not him
He spills his lying tongue and rattles reason to rust…”
There was silence, for He watched me carefully
Knowing my intentions were good
A tear ran down my cheek,
The first tear in 500 years…
“Yes, you may request and your words may make a difference,
Yes, you have the power to change My mind if I see it will result in peace,
Yet Satan, the Devil,
Holds hate only I can bear…
He cannot change for he is trapped in his own snare
This darkness he dwells in was brought on because of his never-ending sins,
The collateral damage he afflicted on the multitudes
Shows me all he wishes for is destruction
And it is that very destruction that will consume him in the end…”
I paused briefly, and sighed in heavy grief
“Is it wrong, Lord Almighty, that I grieve his soon coming punishment?”
“No, you are not wrong…” he said, in a serious tone.
“Though hear Me daughter, you shall learn by experience more of what I mean… soon enough.”
For days, He left me with that,
And I sat there, wondering what He meant
As all ate their meals and rejoiced,
I fasted five days in the flower fields,
Humbled by the blessings given to me
Thankful for God’s complete understanding and wisdom
Baffled by his mysterious prophesy…
The gentle Ogre.
There once was an Ogre,
who lived in a cave
He was not aggressive
He wasn’t real brave
He’d sit and write poems
Or play his guitar
But everyone knew
That he went to far
For Ogre’s are angry
And Ogres are cruel
And it was well known
The top Ogre rule
You catch em you eats em
That’s just how it is
And they saw our weak Ogre
And they didn’t like this
But he didn’t care,
He thought they were fools
And though they did treat him
So awfully cruel
He stuck to his rights
Like he always did
He had his opinions
Which he never kept hid.
But little folk loved him
Adored him, did they
Whenever they saw him
It would make their day
They all did bow down to
his sweet gentle power
Because in his heart was
A beautiful flower.
One day they did ask him
To live with him there
They treated him tender
And gave him such care
They gave him a throne
And made him their king
That sweet gentle Ogre
Was gave everything.
21 July 2013 @ 1713hrs.
What makes this world go around?
What makes Death walk the Earth
and God sit on his throne and watch over us?
What makes love go around with such favour
and strut along side lonesome avenues?
What does a widow, a motherless child, a Vietnam veteran
and a boy who has had his fare share of heartbreaks,
all have in common with each other?
They were all promised a beautiful life,
free for all to love, free from the pain of betrayal
We are what make the world go around,
I am the poet who sits and looks at love walk down the street,
and watch the blind eyes stare deep in my soul.
I am the poet, that feels the pain of a heart torn in two.
He his the poet who writes of smiles, to forget the frowns
She is the poetress that writes of her success,
in order to forget her past that tortured her soul,
now he and she walk together writing poetry
sharing their love and smiles with the world.
But with smiles, also comes frowns,
with hearts full of love, comes hearts full of sorrow,
and someone has to stay behind and write of the bad
has to write and compose the songs of the sorrowed hearts.
We are all given love,
but it takes some whole lives to understand
the dark mystery that tags along with beautiful love.
Someone has to suffer the pain,
someone has to sacrifice his or her happiness,
so another poet can feel the beauty in happiness and pain.
I am willing to sacrifice my time and heart,
for my fellow poet to feel the smiles grow on their faces
and feel love uplift their heart,
while the black cancer tears apart mine.
I will go on, with what is left of my heart and smile,
and go into my room of creativity
and compose the songs of sorrowed hearts
for future poets, like that came before me.
Free me, I say free me
from the enternal damnation
of her death grip.
(I have no use, for love with her)
She does not know me,
She does not love me,
For if she would love me,
I'd love her back.
Come now, someone free me,
free me from the eternal hatred
that has grown between us.
I cannot take this torture anymore.
(My heart grows weak, my heart grows weak... I can't breath,
I can't breath. She is crushing my windpipe! HELP ME!)
Listen I do not love you,
My heart belongs to someone else.
Someone who understands the pain I face.
I cannot love you, and will not love you, for my heart does not belong to you.
I pray to everything that is holy in this Godly, green Earth
Free me, free me!!
I say free me from this eternal torment and execute this monster!
(For my heart belongs to someone else.)
Its Forbidden, but so luscious,
Its home, sinless and heavenly,
Its mother, prohibited, yet tempting,
Its blood-red venomous skin so crisp,
Its body perfectly rounded and smooth,
Its warm, juicy core ever so gushing,
Its polished shine blinding our faith,
Its earthly aroma sensational,
Its nucleus fully fertilized.
Seduced by its mysteries, our poisoned young minds
Could not hold its hunger for wisdom and knowledge,
Marching over its sacred grounds,
Snapping them from their nurturer,
And crushing mankind’s first promise.