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.
Copyright © Alyssa Waters
-The Tree of Life-
Featuring: Casarah Nance
~~I am beautiful on the inside you will see~~
~But really I am just a tree in the woods.~
Beauty found within a tree that sits, and does not speak
Owning, up to the heavens, come look at, when ready
Just stop, admire, count your blessings,
enjoy the raven staring down at you
For this tree was not planted by a gardener,
This tree, who needs, not to speak, draws true auspice air,
Not like the gardener who planted a garden,
then got annoyed by the smallest of weeds
This is a story, about a gardeners mockery,
after trying to cut down my Pecan Tree
Hypocrite the farmer,
does not know the first thing when it comes to flora
Plant sources, that only grow in as weeds, (poor crops)
a picture not even God, sets his eyes upon
I forbid, the thirsty growers from coming,
when putting up or wanting to gossip and speak of my roots
Look how they lose their lower leaves,
from over embracing each thorn
Take heed the whispers of these filthy propagators,
at my windows & doorsteps, Shh, they are watching!
Peeping-Tomming, robbing from my bluebonnet bed,
while in a deep sleep counting sheep
Wake-up, and Click away,
the dandelions are gone, airborne into a fuller universe
From the hunger, I left behind,
since jealous eyes envied how high my beanstalk continues to rise
Smile, at the yellow wool, held out by the same green thumb gang,
whine when others succeed,
Patting one another on the back,
as if they were the National FFA Organization
Grazers growing superfast- crowfoot grass, a bitter look,
found in their dead pedal path
Horticulturist, all alone, on the inside, growing bushes of lies,
contaminated vase, black roses
I can't endure participating in a dead stem convention,
when the seed-woman cries for care
Exposing an over watered garden,
hoarding clodhoppers grin, separating everything
The potential of plowed plants, are nothing more than corrupt cactus,
and invasive plant species in disguise,
Proof they don't know the first thing when cultivating the perfect flowers,
A die hard moment-
Not even the sun wants to climb up on the side of the landscape of falsehood
Sickened by the holes and yellow stains of dust and dirt,
broken by the Farmer and torn overalls
By daylight, the gardener lives kneeling, tending the greenhouse, of lies
By nighttime, the grower, swallows, by singing and tossing salads all night.
The Tree, continues to grow,
The Gardner Cries
A challenge by: Susan Burch ( a SORTA slam )
Inspired by: my poem "THE FLOWER"
~FOR CONTEST~ Dedicated to: Nathan
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A
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…
Copyright © Zeki Madjid
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
Copyright © Peter Duggan
Tis not our fare to see the face of God
Nor speak in tounge to those who never hear,
They dare not come and go, is this not odd
as some would please, forgetting how to fear?
And also, let us hear it, one more thing,
we'll tremble to our end, if gazing on this moon,
some say is painted blood, to look will bring
an agony that won't leave us too soon.
The eyes must turn away, or die the death,
and leave one bitter cold from just the dare
to look on it, to see the dragon's breath,
'twil bring one to believe what's never there.
And lunar madness never calls to mind
the evil waiting there for you to find.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Copyright © Vee Bdosa
I'll take all the guile
But let me hear
Sweet beauty when
She comes near
I'll take the angry voices
That are absurd
For sweet beauty's one
I'll take a stanza
Of insults and blame
Just let beauty
Be the repeated refrain
I'll take the harshest words
Life can dish
If in the background
I hear beauty's wish
I'll take the worst criticisms
And taunts, but then
Will heal me again
I'll take it all
I'll take it all
I'll take it all
Copyright © Lyric Man
Covered in the jungles evergreen thickets, beneath
Stones and mortars refuge lays an old Mayan crypt,
And on it is written an ancient curse, dare not enter
Mortal men, or forsake thy living soul, as tributes
Offering at the altar, of the Arachnid Queen.
At midnight's twilight hour, under the moon's elliptical
Shroud of illusions, is exposed isolation's
Forbidden tomb of evil.
As torches spontaneously combust, bursting forth
Into flame, slowly the grave stone rolls backwards,
Releasing the cold and damp air from within.
Emerging from her unholy tomb, this spider demon,
Inhales the crisp night air at last.
A creature is she the Arachnid Queen, of devils
Spawning between her father of darkness,
And a fallen angel of spiritual light.
Weep do the cherubs of heaven, at her birthing's ritual, for
One of their own was so sacrificed, shackled and chained,
Treated as if an animal of disdain, the Arachnid Queen,
Clawed her way forth, from her mother’s maternal womb.
As a gifts prize from the dark lord, unto his child
Born from the darker side, is the deadly touch of death itself.
To kill without mercy, with accuracy's pin point efficiency,
For she bares no heart or souls pity.
A phantom of mist is she, without definitions form, slowly
She crosses under the forest canopy, and one by one the
Veils of webbing descend, upon her from above. As her
Minion guardians do weave, each delicate sheath's covering.
Revealing a skeletal shape beneath, exposing a beast of
Monstrous proportions, behold her eight legs appendages
Of a spider.
But above is beauty personified, shimmering as a goddess
Of ebony black, with eyes the color of sea foam, and red
Flaming tresses that blow freely in the flowing breeze.
With the voice of an angel, she so sings ever sweetly,
This is the gift of her fallen mother, to entice the lustful
Hunger within all men, to devastations final end.
Waving her teasing finger at them, come hither
My love sick fellow and I'll mend your broken heart,
And so do they come, unto the Arachnid Queen.
Entering her webbing's layer, she takes her crimson
Throne of the dammed, laughing with pleasures sheer
Delight, for tonight she shall feast upon the flesh and blood,
Of living men, and revel in their screams of pain.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn
Get on your bike
and get out of my face
it smells of fish and oil
on the beach this peachy day
cape on my shoulders
to fly away
up with the seagulls
I sh*t on your face
Now that the body
has been properly buried
full of the scars
from the wars do I carry
I cannot believe
you all find me scary
I skip full of spirit for
despite this I'm still merry
For on this day
God smiled on me
gave me the sign
to renew my belief
and with his presence
I shall achieve
an eternal life
filled by my infinite energy (S).
Copyright © Bj Fard
I have this story of the garden of evil I saw.
Darkness called to me, I was drawn inwardly.
Walking, a glimpse of beauty came into view.
She intrigued me as to why she was inside.
When I stepped in front of her she smiled.
Not an ordinary smile, one of pure wickedness.
She spoke to me calmly at first, as my eyes did view.
Transformation began as her beauty faded inwardly.
I swear to you that I felt like darkness had smiled.
Her shape changed and now a devil my eyes saw.
Beckoning me she said come with me inside.
My soul captured my mind knew now wickedness.
She told me that I was hers now as the demon smiled.
That I had to take my place beside her in wickedness,
Which the garden of evil was now placed inside.
That the evil call had embedded my heart inwardly.
As she took me aside to a mirror where I could view,
What happened to me, undeniable is what I saw.
I was changing outwardly, as well as inwardly.
My eyes were blood red and horns came into view.
I had become her male counterpart, we both smiled.
Within a couple of moments, I was lost in wickedness.
Then out of darkness other creatures came from inside.
More and more demonic creatures are what I saw.
She said, Meet our armies that mankind cast inside.
That she had waited for me, again her lips smiled.
Upon wave of her hand a mist came into view.
It was me in previous form, yes, you were evil inwardly.
Your whole mortal life you felt you had no wickedness.
Suddenly I knew she was right, this was a prediction I saw.
My destiny was sealed; garden of evil will keep me inside.
A consort I will be to her evil heart, fulfilling wickedness.
Thinking back in my dreams I could have changed what I saw.
Though forever and beyond, darkness grows inwardly.
As we held each other, a vision cast came into view.
We looked deep into each other’s eyes and we smiled.
What we both saw, within her womb something was inside.
We knew we shared wickedness, as the birth came into view.
Love, lust held inwardly, looking on, our baby demon just smiled.
Note. This was part of a dream I had and I feel it was a release to write this to help me fight my personal demons that have always plagued my mind and dreams, maybe I watched to many horror movies when I was younger, I have seen almost all of them more than once
Copyright © cecil hickman
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.
Copyright © Mistylove Lopez
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.
Copyright © Tyler Kisner
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
Gazing out upon dusky barren moor,
Where gray grass grasps the air
Finding no purchase but sad allure
Straight stalks elapse their endless despair.
Teased by tales of golden reach
Tricked by gales, whose song they preach.
Redtail’s velvet wings breach the sky,
Maroon lips who kiss the grass
Stirring the song, its desperate sigh
Catching the words, her beak of crystal glass
Behind her, midnight shadow draws
Fells her beauty with unseen charcoal paws
Scarlet tears dampen the earth below
Nurture the roots held by dusty truth
Finally, the wind, gray grass’ will bestow
The hawk once, now the fountain of youth.
Litany of silence reigns in dusky glare,
Each blade bowed in mournful prayer.
Copyright © Avery Swarthout
I do not know?
Illusion of love
Faking of fate
Imitation of above
Leaking out hate
Purity in the day
Darkness at Sun fall
Finding a way
To conquer it all
Love over hate
Copyright © Kristina Glackin
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
Build me a temple high…high…high up where the sun can rise
Where good can shine and the evil die as a plant in winter time.
Let it rise
Let it die
Let it shine
Build it high up the moon
But under the sky
And let the sun shine
Through the skin that dims inner light
Let the light unfold the eyes
And see the beauty inside of this small world that wants to shine
Let the war be the plant that could die in winter time
Let it rise
Let peace in the world rise
High…high up like a bird flying up to the sky
Let it die
Let hate die
As a phoenix and be reborn as a flower
Full of scents and beauty instead.
Let it shine
Let our inner light shine
Let it shine through our skin and show us that we can light up the way without hate and
Let it rise
Let it die
Let it shine
Let the battle field turn into a garden
Let the soldiers be the flowers
And the ammunition be the fertilizing soil
Build me a temple high…high up the sky
To symbolize world peace.
Don’t rush take your time
until we find out that we can shine
Let our soul rise
Let our evil die
Let our ability to find world peace shine.
Copyright © yesica lantigua
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
The rank smell of Death, Still in the air
Hate evermore has formed my fate.
These tendrils like knives, cut open my heart,
Now I cut Them, and my Demons I ate.
I wipe the face that's no longer mine, yet evil remains.
I will never be saved, for I killed Them, committing unforgivable sin.
They killed me in a way that remains, Oh Their pain tasted sweet,
Like forgiveness and love.
I've tried Them all, and They all tasted sweet.
Copyright © Trinity Biles
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
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.
Copyright © Bj Fard
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
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.....
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
Once upon a time,
There was a girl who thought of herself as being a great Dame
She would walk alone
And tell everyone that she had a heart of stone
She pushed off her admirers
Claiming they met not her desires
She broke many a hearts
By simply refusing to be their sweethearts
But one day, while she walked in the lonely forests
She came face to face with an enchantress
The latter was busy in concocting spells
To make of herself the world's only belle among the many belles
Angry for having been disturbed
She threw a curse on the great Dame
Be hated, she said, be ugly and be forever un-loved
Be made of fire so that anyone who touches you does perish in your flame
The young girl could do nothing
She tried to be to the world a bit more humbling
But everyone rebuked her
Everyone despised her, hated her
Why, if she did try to be good,
She scorched as would be a piece of fiery wood
If she did reach out to a young lad
She was laughed at, as if she was one so mad!
Why, she thought many a times of jumping into the raging sea
Maybe it would be good, if she did die way too early
Arrogant she had once been
Arrogant and one so mean!
But yet, she found not the courage to do such
She found not the courage to kill herself as such
Nor could she open her veins
Nor could she inflict on herself, other pains
Lost and discouraged, she sought out the mountains
She would live there, all alone, and in disdain
That was when she came face to face again with the enchantress
I shall cure you, only if you do allow me to be your mistress
Such was done and the young maiden became an evil slave
She accepted to do many evil deeds for her mistress, so abusive
So much that one day, as she looked at herself in a mirror
She shrieked with horror
She was old, wrinkled, ugly and witchy
No more did she have any beauty
Why, her life had been cursed, her life had been arrogant
Now, she could only accept her Fate's punishment!
Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon
There was a fairy in a land
As beautiful as spring
Who brought the folk from miles around
Just to hear her sing
Her voice was like a nightingales
So beautiful and sweet
And everyone did love her so
No matter who she’d meet.
Just down the ways there lived a witch
As ugly as can be
She covered too from head to feet
In scaly misery.
She hated Crystal, fairy lady
And her hatred was so strong
That she wanted her to be destroyed
This witch was really wrong!!
She sent her evil servant down
To kill this wondrous fairy
He searched there in her lovely land
And he was rather scary.
He’d rough folk up and hurt them bad
Unless they told him true
Exactly where that fairy was
Oh, he was ugly too.
His face was such a monstrous sight
All lumps and bumps and creases
His breath was such an awful thing
It killed folk with diseases.
He loved to hurt, and maim and kill
His name was heard in fear
One day the lovely fairy lady
Of him at last did hear.
She told her friends “just show him in
He’s welcome in my home
Though folk worried, she did not care
She waited all alone.
She had no fear, no, none at all
This lovely Princess Crystal
Her being it was filled with love
Her heart was beautiful.
The beast came up to the fairy’s door
As that lady sat there singing
The evil one stood transfixed there
Such joy to he was bringing
That voice of beauty that he heard
From this sweet fairy’s home
The evil one began to weep
This no one had known.
He entered he her humble home
And fell down on his knees
He begged the lady to forgive him
The fairy heard his pleas
She kissed him on his ugly cheek
And lord you should have seen it
The evil one, how he did change
He did, I really mean it.
His face became all soft and smooth
He became a handsome man
His voice took on a tender note
And his form it looked so grand.
He smiled at her with wondrous joy
And he asked her to be his
The fairy told him “Yes indeed”
His face just filled with bliss.
Then he went back and slew the witch
Who had sent him out to kill
This wondrous sweet and lovely fairy
No more she ever will.
Then they got married, he and her
The changed man, and the fairy
Oh, everybody loved them both
And none now found him scary.
Copyright © Peter Duggan
A young maiden fair and slender of great beauty and rose complexion
Was gathering wild flowers in a forest when an angel to her appeared
Gently she flew down and softly whispered in the virgin maiden’s ear
You are the chosen one and your destiny it is to save the Black Knight
High on a Cliff he stands alone in deep despair cursed by the Gods and fate
Only a true loving heart can save this mortal from all of hells damnation
Take this silver dagger, and child use it well, smite all evil and set him free
The angel then turned and disappeared as quickly as she had come
A vision then came and the maiden was able to gaze upon the black Knight
A man of grand statue and true beauty with sad dark penetrating haunting eyes
The virgin maiden’s heart it stirred as desire and longing enveloped her soul
Her Knight was held captive by demons and bound by chains of steel and gold
They hissed and snarled as if their screams came from the depths of hell
She could hear the knight’s distressed silent cries and felt his despairing agony
on wings of angels she was lifted up past impenetrable talon rocks to his tortured side
As fallen angels held him back, demons screamed and flaming fire on her breathed
Hatred and loathing spewed out on her as huge black ravens pecked at her eyes
Brandishing the dagger she bravely challenged monsters, demons and ravens all
The monsters and demons then ripped at her flesh, their teeth drawing blood and skin
Brandishing the dagger she bravely challenged each fiend and evil spirit one by one
She fought with such overpowering strength she knew not she possessed
As one by one demon and monster fell unable to overcome her true abiding love
Then the black howling devils of the night appeared even then she had no fear
Swiping at her adversaries she stood her ground, and plunged the dagger deep
Unable to cause more agonizing torment they soon faded in the depth of night
As released tortured souls screamed out for salvation and for eternal peace
As one by one her black knight’s captors were defeated by her love alone
Suddenly all screaming and hideous cries abated and peace then reigned
She gazed up into his soft gentle smoldering eyes her wounds forgotten
As he wrapped her in his arms and blessed the gods and all above
All his great agony and fears dissipated as the stars softly blessed their love
And on the cliff he gently kissed his maiden fair as an angel’s choir sang
The moonlight bathed them in light, as united they became as one in Paradise.
Copyright © Lizzie Treetop
.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.
Copyright © Peter Duggan
How queer the color of viscera
squarely foreign in my breast
To be the butcher and grim and goddess
All in one
Leaves identity succinct
Or identifies succinctness
If it has been
Then so it was always before
Therein is 'Peace'
Reposed and eyes rolling
Great, vacant saucers on vertiginous axis
She is quite the swollen beast
And on all fronts, she is terrible
If only you'll watch you may notice her growth
A malignant sort
An unwelcome appendage
I'd dash it out but I've already gone
Too pale and dogged in life to succumb
I curse her tenacity
She has a sister, I think
Or maybe a child
A child who lives down deep in my chest
A child who shrieks and tears down the walls
Perhaps she dislikes their pattern
Copyright © Chelsea Westerfield
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.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski
The stones slipped through the great fingertips of God
Each ligure staked its existence on the four corners of the universe
The quadrivial region began to spin and pull into a sphere
And pathways revealed their footholds
The fourth ligure bravely landed in the midst of history
So that one day the future settlement of the second
Would be moved by the last—by the past
Suffering much it stayed
Manifesting in incandescent words
Thrusting evanescence upon the weak
Selfless, it's sorrow would move the merriest
Would move the unmovable
The third lies in the profound valley of mystical guardians
Star-recruited, they are the very light above the canvas of gray
They embrace the stone—are inspired by the stone
The very reflection of their creator was evident
Upon their unremitting glimmers
Unafraid to stare the others down
Motivated and construed by the glower of death
Eyes move fixedly beyond the simple vast
The second ligure rested upon the shoulders of invisible martyrs
The hopeful power it planted on the sufferers was unbelievable
For spectators used their disbelief to cover their ever-placed envy
They never were part of the battle—they merely watched
Always seeing truth
But they never quite absorbed
Like a rock hitting the water
The inevitable fate was to fly and sink
The first of the ligures settled in the very reservoir of Satan himself
Even the very heart of the devil is marked
Though rebellion embarked
The cold stone landed upon his naked bosom
He despaired not to the pericopal truth the gods had bestowed upon him
He merely despised it
But wished not to lose it
For such a stone to fall upon that dark corner—he felt pride for the gracious wound
In truth, there are twelve ligures of stone
And four were dispersed, dropped into the universe
The last eight the great Eternal wears upon his breastplate
And only He can re-move these ligures
-July 20, 2013-
-For Shadow Himilton's Any Subject Contest-
-Thanks for the inspiration-
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
The Pisces Lady
Let’s write about Pisces, a wonderful lady
She lives in a world of her dreams
Ruled by Lord Neptune, the god of the ocean
She’s a mystical lady, it seems
Imagination so strong, this makes her creative
Music, she loves very much
She may be a poet, write wonderful words
And any guy’s heart she might touch.
She knows of a world that’s vast like the ocean
She knows unconditional love
She loves all of nature and all of Gods creatures
And she worships the stars up above
Escapist she be, she’ll run from dark shsdows
Confusion at times makes her life
A dark, crazy world, then she’ll take some substance
Then maybe she’ll end up in strife.
Her heart is brim filled with sweet, loving kindness
She’s a hater of suffering and pain
To see creatures hurt would fill her with sadness
All cruelty drives her insane
She’s a magical mystical, lovable lady
So giving, she’ll help anyone
She might make a preacher, or spiritual teacher
But evil, she always will shun.
6 July 2014 @ 0755hrs.
Written for Leonora's Zodiac contest
Copyright © Peter Duggan