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Life Write Poems | Life Poems About Write

These Life Write poems are examples of Life poems about Write. These are the best examples of Life Write poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Of Ink

   Partial Paper
 -A poet in heat-

Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails

This part of you 
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking  words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"

You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions 
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet:  "Ink Never Lies."

Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sung under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propagandas
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth


Details | Rhyme | |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found

Details | Free verse | |

Exposure: Part I

Today I conceived myself as a poet for the first time,
and not because of employable meter, rhyme, and flow -
I will leave such devices for the wordsmiths and Masters.

And not because I can write poetry....what I do,
should be labelled as something else entirely -
not as poetry.
I am an organic recorder, filing away bits and pieces of zeitgeist,
without rhyme or reason,
almost as if ghosts are guiding my hand across the paper,
and I really don't have much say in the matter.

I am a stranger in a crowded world,
a stranger amongst people I have known for years,
not quite fitting in anywhere, but being in all places at once.
I write the words down, they in turn speak to me.
A clear, mutual agreement -
the smell and feel of new paper,
the liquid, brashness of ink as it penetrates the virgin whiteness
of so many possible observations, opinions and stories.
The words know me intimately.
We aren't strangers.
The reality of vowels and consonants is where I truly fit.

I was moving through a crowd of familiar faces -
a familiar feeling of strangeness and alienation,
when I came across a Persian face I had never seen before.
A real stranger.
Not one I have known for years.
She mentioned not being into sex,
how she only wanted to talk about things she couldn't mention to friends -
her mind felt as if it was floating by the moon 
and she wasn't sure how to reel it back into her skull again.
I told her not to worry, sex isn't the only thing on my brain.
She said that sex was the only thing on her brain;
but in a different way.
She explained how she had been kidnapped in Iran,
imprisoned as a sex-slave, 
repeatedly raped by rich business men who wore wedding bands.
I asked if she was filled with hate.
She wasn't quite sure.

"What does hate feel like?"

"Well, it shouldn't be mistaken for rage, anger or frustration.
Those emotions are red hot to the touch.
Hate is a cold thing.
Like a Raven perched on the railing of a bridge,
sleet bouncing off its feathers,
not caring to fly away even though cars are barrelling past,
flinging up dirty, February slush.
There is nowhere left to fly to.
The trees are all cut down,
dumpsters have tight lids,
for some reason the fish are all belly-up in the river below,
dead from some mysterious reason.
Its stomach aching from hunger,
the Raven smells the reason for all of this death
emanate from the strange looking beasts walking and driving past.
It is all their fault -
they are the poison behind it all.
This is hate."


Details | Free verse | |


I’m made of ten thousand layers, curvaceous but stretched thin,
How should I begin to reveal the shape of this maiden-lover-hag
and the landscape that few men view, behind the louvered door?

Archetypes coexist comfortably below and upon my shared skin,
First, the shrew makes minced meat of all your carnivorous ways,
Then, I become the shy virgin again until Venus takes the floor.

Morning, while I tend my child between wringing out wet dishrags,
I release the Mother Goddess, nurse and maid, maker of wee sighs,
Bending down to wipe a tear, kiss a brow, proudly raise a nation.

A chatelaine rattling keys, I walk the wide halls of imagination,
Strong and free, yet accepting of my femininity, moved to cry
by the joys and miseries of family life, twin dimensions of wife.

My hips have turned soft men to stone then have rocked them 
home with urgency; the same hips that sheltered one yet born
now happily support a burdensome basket each laundry day.

Betwixt the ribs, there is still a girl, weaving daisies evermore,
Remembering ribbons tugged from her hair, a tomboy daughter,
Climbing trees, bloodied knees, leaving trails laced with laughter.

Slips out the hoyden, lacking grace and gentleness, too crass,
and the very clouds try to escape the look upon my crone’s face,
Flip and sassy, standing up for the weak, voicing world wrongs.

Daily, the lady, the broad, the nag and miss rewrite their songs,
They play their parts so aptly, leaving me and them quite satisfied,
A lifetime is horribly short, my sex gives all her love and worth,
And men quickly learn that no woman on this lovely earth 
can simply be classified.

*Inspired by Alanis Morisette's "I'm a B_tch"
**For David's contest, I hope
***Began the write May 26, 2012, finished the write May 29, 2012

Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behing,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...

Details | Rhyme | |

Death of my Friend

Death of my Friend

Found was the key to heaven's door
this pain I can bear no more
The shadows that eat my long nights
the guilt of that deadly fight

Ages ago tragedy came sailing in
took the life of you my friend
A drunken party that went so wrong
our lives becoming a sad song

I begged you to not dare drive
if you done so you'd be alive
My guilt in not forcing you back
you car hit on that train track

Death came instantly to my friend
for me pain that will never end
I backed down when you hit me then
your funeral I'd not had to attend

You that always got your own way
should have never died that sad day
Now I see your fate was meant to be
you died young, a soul early set free!

Robert Lindley

note: Death of my friend. I tried to stop him 
but not hard enough.Too drunk to safely drive but 
when so young we thought we were ten feet tall and 
bullet proof! 
Maybe we were but just not speeding train proof..
Rather than knock him out I let him go. 
Car was hit by a train and death was immediate..
Twenty-one is too young to go..

Details | Free verse | |

It's Okay

It’s okay to leave the dishes in the sink,
to wash your hands with sanitizer instead of soap.
Your mother will joke
about how it doesn’t get your hands clean enough
but when was the last time you listened to her anyway.
It’s okay to cry today,
to use your sleeve instead of tissues.
It’s okay to take that thing that hurt you
and throw it out of the moving car,
just don’t go back to pick it up,
it’s not lost luggage,
it’s buried tumors.
It’s okay to hate God today,
to change his name to yours,
to grab the headstone with your mitten covered hands
and try to knock it over.
Throw the snow at it,
the roses have died.
It has been too long since the passing,
but I give you permission to hate God today.
It’s okay to break into the liquor cabinet
and medicate peacefully,
to drink too much sometimes
and not know where you’ve been
because you’ll eventually find yourself.
It’s okay to walk alone sometimes,
sort your thoughts,
to clear the air with air,
and dry the wounds with salt.
It’s okay to climb into bed early
and stare at the ceiling,
to just tell yourself that it’s okay.

Bold lines are taken from the poem Letter From My Heart to My Brain by Rachel McKibbens

Details | I do not know? | |

Anger Pain and Dramatic Stress

Anger, pain and dramatic stress 
The 3 things that I possess
Me, Reggie is okay at times
I sometimes choose to confide in my rhymes
I express my feelings through a pen
Just like some women get satisfaction through men.
This isn’t a poem because this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast, just too fast to be caught.
I hate being stressed
Just like I hate being possessed
I don’t mean to sound evil and mean
But I am different from the other people you have seen.
This is not a poem…this is a thought
I have thoughts moving so fast that they can’t be caught.
I have it good to some…others have it good to me
Some don’t realize how hard it is to be
A poet…it’s hard writin’ poetry with a lot of feeling
You feel forced to write something appealing
You break down cause cus’ you feel an obligation
To write good poetry that there breaks your concentration
I found a solution that my mind’s fighting
Maybe I should stop all the poetry and all the writing
These are fast ideas too fast to be caught
This isn’t a poem this is just a thought

Details | Bio | |

Unwritten Conversations

He told me to write a poem
About beauty, wind blowing
Hair tossing , dream making stunning
Gorgeousness of living
Beauty addicts and blind ambitions
Movie stars and historical happenings
Formal dresses, women in high heels with 
Faces meant to smile
That’s what poems should be about, he says, 
Your good at that kind of thing, just spit it out

                “Shawty, write a poem about beauty, that’s real poetry”
                                 “Everything is beautiful, baby…”
                 “But what is beautiful to you?”

Births and rebirths
Phoenix Red celestial torching of the hearts
Interlocking fingers in twilight
Kisses, Death, sorrow, crocodile tears
Laughter, Ecstasy , black
White, brown, yellow, silver crimson
Skin on skin, chest to chest, on and on, soft
Hard City light heaving, breathing against the Ebony sky
Natural Twinkle of diamond shadows, 
Cosmos, Atoms, Hydrogen bonds, Electrons
Nucleus, matter, anti-matter
Smash together, slither mutually
To create harmony.
Everything is beautiful. 

                      “Just write about that then..”
                                 "Not everything has to be written, somtimes you just have to
                                  live it out.."
                      "What's the point then?? What's the point of writing about butterflies 
and waterfalls? I just don't see it? Why do you have to doll everything up and 
make it more then what it is? Not everything has to be picked apart and analyzed."
                                "Mmm, I suppose."
                        "What's real poetry to you?" 
                         "I don't understand."

I recline and rest my head on his chest
Tracing lines of thought on the ceiling
Helping him dismantle the universe and put it back together
In his own way
Enjoying lyrical symphonies of life
Breath by breath…

                                     "This, baby, This is real Poetry.."


Details | Rhyme | |

Only A Poet

Write me a smile with your magic word
And write it nice and wide
Write me a whisper, that's never been heard
To show what you're feeling inside

Write me a tear, as it runs down your cheek
Each time that you need to cry
Write me strength, when you're feeling weak
Or love that will make me sigh

Write me the anger, when it doesn't go your way
Or contentment, each time that it does
Write me tomorrow, instead of today
Or maybe the way that it was

Write me your heartache, with all of your pain
When your heart's been broken in two
Then write me the pieces of you that remain
For I need to feel them too

Write me the morning and evening skies
Or maybe even noon or night
Whatever emotion your lonely heart cries
Like only a poet can write

Details | Rhyme | |

In my sanctuary

It's in my sanctuary where I write
Deep inside the walls of my mind
It's the only place I can find that's still filled with light
Not clouded by dark thoughts, nah, I'm leaving those behind

It's in my sanctuary where I can think in peace
Where I can blow off steam and just release 
It's where my suffering ends and I start to feel good again
In my sanctuary is the one place I no longer feel the pain

It's in my sanctuary where I avoid the human race
And I can move at a more comfortable pace
It's where I can relax and just not care
It's a place where entering should be a dare

It's in my sanctuary where I like to spend my time 
'Cause in there nothing costs even a dime
It's all in my head
But hey, at least I'm not dead

Details | Verse | |

Art of the heart

Some write to write, others to please their own romance and love
I write to enchant thy heart, and thy imagination, thy vision
To tell yee the truth I write to please my desire, to fulfill a personal mission
For I am to touch the souls of men into the right path with God our lord from above

When yee find thyself in the open pause thy heart and look at your surroundings
Pay audience to nature herself, for she comes alive but by His breath of life that creates
Open thy ear, feel the peace that flows in the open air, hear yee not the wind it sings!
Whom but all poets shall come to open eyes, for their gift is to see and write to appreciate

Walk in thy own path, make thy own life come to life
Thank Him everyday for thy joy, for thy own peace
For sooner than the sun sets for eternity will His return be, and all time will cease
Drink thy wine, live life with joy, and be true to thy wife

For it is promised that yee shall receive no more than thee can bare
As He knows of thy hearts smallest desires, and will provide, if thee seeks Him first
Jump with tears of gratitude, for He promised a Bright tomorrow
Will no one believe, as in the times of Noah? Believeth so for all must end, all sorrow

With each passing sun He nears
Yet the world stands idly by, no one even fears
The heart of the earth finds itself celebrating and ill in fake cheers
Little do they know, that He will arrive in times of sleep and with an army of spears

Hear the message for it is not I that write to thy aid, but our Lord himself for he loves us all
as all men were created equal, and some to speak to hearts
Feel the burden that dwells on my heart, and read on before thy soul departs
Rejoice in my art, as I bring about the art that comes from the heart

Details | Personification | |


.                         ‘Violin’ was written on a soft dark velvet night,
                As I drifted - in the dreams -  of the flickering -  candle light;
           Ne’er pre-planned -  nor pondered - nor was she - pre-conceived,
        She came from deep within me, appearing  on the screen,
               As did my favorite poem - my darling ‘Cannon Lee’.

                ‘The Love of a Gentlemen’ -  and ‘Where the Heart Resides,’
                   Came from treasured memories - I tried to keep alive;
                   With words - chosen carefully - to create solidity,
                          I brought them back to life - to live eternally,
                  In vivid hues - more beautiful - than all the autumn leaves.

                   Others - fell like drops of dew  - from flying fingertips,
           That raced across the keyboard  - in hopes they wouldn’t miss,
                The chance to share the beauty - my eyes now fell upon,
           Through the kitchen window  - across the river -  and beyond,
            Where fields of liquid diamonds - glistened in the early dawn.

                    Others came in metaphors -  disguising secrets held;
                      To painful in reality - for me to ever tell. 
                ‘The Rose and the Thorn’ -  poured herself upon the page,
                     A sonnet of over-whelming grief  - rising up from hidden rage,
                         Releasing me forever - from my gilded cage.

                        These poems I write - come day come night,
                                  Come candle or come neon light,
                       Come wind, come rain, come joy, come pain,
                They are the life - the Great Creator -  breathed in me;
                                         They are my breath! 
                                          They are my poetry!


                               Author:  Elaine George
                               Written:  January 13th, 2010

Inspired by:  Deborah Guzzi's contest 'How Do You do It - How do you write your poems'?

Authors Note:  This poem was written on route to Bath, North Carolina via Ferry 
crossing.  It was written on a note-pad from the' Hampton Inn' and transferred 
to my lap-top after returning to Swansborro.

Details | Free verse | |

Worst Love Poem Ever Written

I suck at dying poems
Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,
Hair falling out in the shower poems
And I told a half truth
When I told you I could write you one
In less than six months (It's been eight)
I apologize for being so late

I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful
Like those ribbons
I see all over the internet
Filled with cheesy generic rhymes
That read like a Hallmark audition

  But already my metaphors are melting
And my similes are getting soft
 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

 When I went to Google
And the typed in the word 'happy'
Three billion links came up

Not a single inference to
Breast cancer, hair loss
No redirects to mastectomies
Yahoo wasn't any kinder

The only thing research could teach me
Is that a good day on chemo
Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black
And has no blood in it

Or when your urine
Smells better on Wednesday
Than it did on Tuesday

Sleeping less than 12 hours
When 24 would be better

America has more poets
Than it does alcoholics
   And Pot smokers combined
And you chose me to be
Your Breast Cancer
Poet Laureate

Trusting me to write a poem
About the biggest battle in your life

So I refuse to finish this poem
Without something bright and hopeful
And don't think
I didn't notice your Facebook activity
Had decreased by 88%
In the last three months

And you aren't really
Coming to any more of my poetry shows
Ever again. Are you??
But we still have March, April
Don't we?

But even if you had one breast
Or no breast

Or if you had less hair than I do
I promise to look only in your eyes
And never ever even notice
Or even think about it

And never for a moment
Would I feel sorry for you

Yes I suck at lying too...

But I don't suck at loving you
Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning
 With no Cancer at all
And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside
Your bedroom window...

And I would be right there with you
Holding your hand while we look down on Paris
And you can impress me with your French again

And if I ever make it
To the Pulitzer Poetry board
I might lose a thousand points
Just for this poem alone

And my hopes for the prize will be smitten
And some old person 
With white hair will say
That was the worst love poem ever written

Details | I do not know? | |

Still In Progress

How can I be selfless without being used? 
How can I be demanding without being so rude? 
How can I open up without closing back down? 
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound? 
How can I trust without being betrayed? 
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed? 
But how can you love me when I won't let you in? 
So many questions.... where do I begin? 
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind…… 
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind. 
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within, 
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win. 
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy, 
Then in the midst of this battlefield, 
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain… 
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame… 
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’ 
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself, 
instead making you depend on the wealth, 
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is, 
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld 
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool, 
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue, 
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now.. 
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma... 
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin… 
Physically, THAT is what you are… 
Because we only see the physical, right? 
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast? 
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast? 
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past? 
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there, 

Details | I do not know? | |

I've Scribbled This Song For You

I've Scribbled This Song For You...

I'm wasting my days,
my empty nights too,

I should have held on,
but I simply lost you,

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

yes, I should have kept,
you close to my skin,

soaking your warmth,
but you were laughing,

at my foolish grin...

now I'm all broken,
and torn apart,

but what the hell,
I was always late,
for the tolling of the bell,

and now...

now I stagger along,

wearing broken smiles,
in between hell and you,
there's a million miles,

so kiss me now like you once did,
I'm tired of being so carefully hid,

la laa laa la laa laa laa...

(repeat to fade)


Details | Free verse | |


I wanted to thank each of you personally,but there are to many
of you so I am writing this to all who have been willing to put up
with my sad and dark poems and all the kind comments you have
made.I have been overwhelmed with friendship since I joined the soup.
I never knew there were people like all of you out there,but I have
discovered that there is.I have struggled all my life with depression,
and other mental illnesses.My outlook on life is said through
my poems.I don't know myself when I will decide I can't take the pain
anymore.It is a day to day struggle for me.HG,you asked me how could
you write a suicide poem and not die?I can't answer that question,
and Douglas Ace you asked what our friendship means to me?That I
can answer.It means more than anything to me and your kind and 
gentle words are all taken to heart.Linda Marie has also helped through
my trying times.Jeralynn Clark,and James Fraser, wrote a poem for me,
which I appreciate more than words can say.I wanted to write this to
everyone and I hope you all get everything you ask for.I can't keep
fighting the feelings that I feel about ending it all.It is a day after day
feeling and I am tired.I will watch over all of you.I just can't hold on
to the future when all I think about is the past.You all think I need
help and I agree ,but have yet to find the help that is going to change
the way I feel.Please read my poem Is There A Heaven.When I find
out you all will be the first to know.I must go now and I hope you
all can understand why.Thank you I know isn't enough but I don't know 
what else to say to show how much you all meant to me.Peace and 
Love to all of you.Pray for me.

                                                     YOUR SOUPER FRIEND,
                                                       Colleen Marie Bono

Details | Free verse | |

Tension Waiting

The swordsman who draws his blade
Heart racing at the keening of steel on scabbard 
Tension coiled, poised for the unleashing
Held back by muscles tight with glee.

I am as the soldier, held in stance,
The lioness crouched beneath the concealing grass
As it sways back and forth, as insects sing along the day
Her every breath is halted, her veins do not pulse,
And just as the swordsman stands
They are statues in this moment,
Statues of derision,
Mocking, with their stillness, the very charged tension within.

And I am as the lioness frozen before her pounce
Coiled with motivation and purpose,
And I am as the tongue held with words clinging off its’ edge
Ready to lash out and strike with direction
But I am as the frozen purpose, held tight
Waiting, for a warrior to stand before me
For a reason to uncoil, to lash out with words and pounce.

But I am now as the pen halting before the purest of paper
White and supple, in askance for the lightest touch
A slash of the tip, drawing lines in ink
Lines like a hunter’s bowstring, taut with intent,

As the pen lies frozen above its prey, the falcon petrified aloft still winds
I am the need coiled tight like a wound jack in the box
But alas, there is no victim to frighten,
No pray to pounce upon, no sword or bared neck to slash against
And I am here, with pen frozen, ink ready to be drawn taut
And I have nothing to draw in the ink, no prey or purpose to evoke
I am coiled tight with energy, but it is release that so eludes me,
I am coiled tight with purpose, but it is direction that so denies me.

And here I am, pouncing at ground before me, 
Slicing away at the air around me
Scratching away with a dry pen, on paper still white in askance
I write about…
I write about the coil within, and the lack without
And alone I wonder,
Is it enough, is it enough to go on, a wound up box
Waiting for the slightest touch, the weakest parry, to live.

Details | Free verse | |


The missing light,
What's behind.
Just believe,
That love comes again...

The skies,
Are like a hard glide,
In a shining rainbow's light...

All dreams and fantasies,
Can be reality,
'Cause fantasy,
Is based on reality...
But all histories aren't the same...

Sometimes, we dive,
In our lives...

Don't judge,
For what you see,
For what it is...,
'Cause time passes,
But, memories remain...

To your heart,
The body, does,
The mind, thinks,
And, the heart, feels...,
While, the soul, lives...

Always remember,
To remember the past,
To live the present,
And to wait and pursue the future...

Listen to your heart,
Before you are telling goodbye,
'Cause destiny,
Might lead to demise...,
But, remember that destiny can be changed...

Life is unpredictable,
But space and time,
Could be controlled...
And even if some die,
We may survive...

That life,
Might have an endless beginning...

All that remains,
Is to be reborn...

Details | Couplet | |

God Forbid

My life is very insular, I move from page to page
never straying far from words which prance upon the written stage.

like a sputtering engine my tongue tangles on a phrase
I rub my eyes, red and raw, I can't remove my aged gaze.

My fingers curl and knuckles gnarl as velum dances right
I read, I write, I think and pause, I can't turn out the light.

Compose, I will, adjust I must, each simile an anchor 
to a life much analyzed, but lived with little rancor.

like the scribes of ancient Rome my fingertips are worn
yet I persist with joyous bliss for I know I must go on. 

My form has bent, bowed and curled to meet the need of the word
God forbid, I went through this lifetime never being heard.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Shelf of Sadness

I was going to write a sad poem
But my nephew shot himself
So I'll guess I'll wait 'til later
And I put it on the shelf

I finally took it down today
But before I started to write
I got a call from a friend of mine
His daughter died last night

So on the shelf it went once more
To wait 'til grief has passed
Again I took the paper down
To write my sorrow at last

But as my muse began to cry
A knock came at my door
A neighbor came to me in tears
Her husband killed in the war

I never wrote that sad poem
It sits upon the shelf
Sadness needs no poet at all
It somehow writes itself

Details | I do not know? | |

Wrestling Verses

Wrestling Verses

Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,

fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,

trapped in rolled-up sleeves.

Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,

scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.

My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,

your skin,
your bare back my canvas,

my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.

Wrestling verses,

lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,


my fingers tickle your soft skin,

my ink would run dry,

were it not for your gentle touch

Details | Free verse | |

Orgasm Of Sadness

images pour erratically
falling on eyelashes 
tears fueling my pen 
always the sadness 
finds me waiting 

wrenching emotion 
twisting my heart 
in a vice grip 
can't stop the images 
from driving me insane 

raped and murdered eyes 
pleading for children 
drowned beneath 
adult oppression 
and addiction 

it's the emptiness 
that I write 
a cursed 

social consciousness
that blinds

I don't write love 
for it lies 
can't find happiness 
to send to my pen 
for it lays behind 
my eyes 
a tired whore 
spent and overused 
with too much hype 

can't even pen security 
never found that either 
under blankets or kisses 
not even in hardened urges 
that deflate just as quickly 
conveying only want and need 

no I write of sadness 
I return there 
a drunk to cheap wine 
guzzling my addiction 
with lust 
it holds me safe 
for it is familiar 

I live it 
I see it 
it knows my name 
and I know its

we are intimate 
sadness and I 
a couple 
twisted together 

in some grotesque 
sexual position 
culiminating in orgasm 
with my depressed pen




Details | I do not know? | |

i began to write love on my arms<3

[beforehand i just want to let you know that i wrote this in honor of November 17th. which is 
To Write Love On Her Arms Day. im hoping to come up with a better one before than. but i 
still hope you enjoy this quickly-wrote one(: ]

this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about my struggle,
my fall downs, 
&& all the breakdowns.
this is about every wound i placed upon my body.
over 60 self inflicted wounds,
that as my story went on they began to heal.
i stoped writing "give up" 
i began to write love on my arms<3
this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about my past.
how it haunted me for years,
&& how im still running from some of it.
this is how i went from a hood rat,
to me actually caring about myself.
i began to write love on my arms<3
this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about how i learned to keep the bottle off of my nightstand.
i dont need liquor running through my veins 24/7.
i started to look at life through sober eyes.
i began to write love on my arms<3
&& as i wrote this day after day, i saw that i was loved. 
i found comfort in better things then pills, liquor, && razorblades.
&& even though i am still in healing,
my story is not over.
&& it will never be.
i still write love on my arms<3

Details | Narrative | |

Call Me Gonzo

For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes 
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.

I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.

I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women 
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.

I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.

Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the 
empty range for my return.

I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone 
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a 
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.

Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and 
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.

Details | Sonnet | |

Andrea Dietrich

Angelic words she places in lines with care.
Never heard a discouraging word, she did share.
Deeper emotions she does write so clear.
Reality is her concern, realism so sincere.
Excitement sometimes rules her lines.
A woman of deep and emotional designs,

Deeply passionate about so many things in life,
I never met her though read her poetic rife.
Each time she visits others words she reads.
Telling others so sweetly she plants seeds,
Respectfully she instills poetic writings in another.
I saw onetime she felt like a sonnet unwritten.
Carefully I wrote this for her, an earth mother.
Having friendship in mind never was smitten.

I have a sort of gift that allows me to sense certain feelings about people without even meeting them....and usually my first intuition if you want to call it that is perfectly correct. matter what it is about or who it is about I have to write it or my soul is clouded and pain grows within...Blessings..Cecil

Details | Couplet | |

A blessing in my life

I usually write in couplet rhyme
Its simply what I do it's not by design
It's just the way the words seem to flow
Into my head up out of my soul
I love the ones that are full of light
See they are what brought me up out of the night
People prove they care by the things that they do
So I write this light for all of you
I write it because I wish you to know
True beauty is born with-in the soul
The soul is a thing that cherishes the light
Do you not embrace the stars through the dark of night
Well as you do know my words are true
They may twinkle bright but not as bright as you
You are angels who covered me in your prayers
Let me know I'm someone worthy of care
I hold you all in my heart just like my wife
Like her you are "a blessing in my life"

Details | Free verse | |

My inner palace

to my  inner palace 
built in
sturdy passion
beautiful love

colorful garden
with fragrant flowers 
to greet you 
with my sweetest smile 

strong pillars
of verses and
created a temple of love

peaceful atmosphere 
in comfortable love

Though noiseless 
your whisphers 
reached  the ears of my souls

in a softest candle light dinner
patiently waiting
for your present

to enjoy your laughters
and stories

to drink
all sweet lovely tears patter 

i give you 
my special key called love
to welcome you
in my inner palace

~ (c) Sukmawati komala ~ 
07March 2013

Details | Free verse | |

I will not be late to work this morning

I will not be late to work today

I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS 
About sound
About war

I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of 
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase

I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert 
Ready to begin my lesson

I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment

What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and 
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the 
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles

I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work

I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and 
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving

I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and 
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic

It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything

This poem is over 
the work day begins

Details | Rhyme | |

This is Poetry

On the verge of insanity, judging myself by the man in me,
My judicial thoughts are overwhelming, it's like every time I stand I sink,
I guess if life was all true, then it would all be wrong,
We wouldn't have the hurt feelings, to make us strong, 

But, how are you gonna stand there and instist that I hear you out,
I'm not gonna stand and listen, when all you do is scream and shout
I've reached my boiling point, now I'm beginning to steam,
My lungs are aching for air, but in my head I just wanna scream

My life could go either way, just depends on my gravitational pull,
I've been writing poetry since my days in gradeschool,
But I'm not cool, I've never been, but this is the air I breathe,
I didn't have to learn the alphabet, the alphabet learned me

It's like, when I'm not writing I'm wearing a straightjacket,
I'm held up in a ball and I'm stuck, it's like a bad habit
I'm mad at it, but choose not to dwell on nothing, I'd rather be happy,
But I won't be truly happy until I reach the top of the tree, this is poetry

Details | Bio | |

Why I write

Many journeys I have traveled, no doubt I will have many more,
all the twists, turns and pits falls in life, all the things I had to endure.
Coming to terms with my  life, is by no means an easy feat,
this is the sole reason I write, it is to understand me.

In my words I can escape, from the harshness of reality that's always in my face,
the only place i'm safe, where I can truly be free, in this world there is only me.
Free from judgement, ridicule and shame, in this world no one knows my name,
a place to reflect and contemplate, a place to analyze, to rectify my mistakes.

Not all things broken can ever be fixed, so I turn to my writing for inspiration.
You'll soon come to see if you read what I write, every thing you'll read is about my life. You see i've have been my own teacher, no one has ever been by my side, 
struggling to understand things has always been my plight.

I feel what I write and I write what I think, and yes sometimes it does come out raw,
but there's no escaping that reality, when that comes knocking at your door.
As my life unravels in front of your eyes, you'll will all see what I mean, 
but hey... I know there are people out there that have it a lot harder then me.

This is the beginning of a new journey, something for my children to see,
when they hit pit falls in there life, they can always refer back to me.
Daddy's life on show for all to see, like I really care,
the more I start to talk about myself, the faster it is to heal.

Not everything in life is able to be handed down, 
but words are forever, and forever they can be found.
For in this world when I've been out for the count,
my writing is the only thing that pulls me out.

I write to heal....
I write to hide....
I write to live.....
I write so I can survive.....

M.Mahauariki © 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Any Ideas?

Well what should I write about tonight?

Should I write about what I did today?
Should I write about my shoelaces?
Should I write about doing laundry?
Or Should I write about what I'd like for breakfast tomorrow?

Maybe I should ramble about how the school day went.
Maybe I should complain about my room being dirty.
Maybe I should name off the food in my kitchen.
Or Maybe I should just talk about my hair.

I wanna talk about what I'm learning on guitar.
I wanna speak out about my inner issues.
I wanna yell a crazy rant.
I just wanna blow off some steam.

I wish I could take a bath with a girl right now.
I wish I would've finished my homework.
I wish I could shoot ice from my finger tips
I just wish I had some soda to quench my thirst.

There are so many things I could say right now!
But I just can't seem to decide.
I'd probably get some pretty weird looks
If I told you what's all bottled up inside.

I'm everywhere and nowhere in my head
Ideas and thoughts bouncing left and right.
Too bad I can't seem to think of anything.
I was really wanting to get some feelings out tonight.

Do I need to shave in the morning?
Should I go to the music store after school?
Why didn't I grab matching socks?
What does the weekend have in store?

I wish I had something to write about.
Any Ideas?

Eh, I'll think of something tomorrow night.

Details | Rhyme | |

When Poets Bleed

When poets bleed they fill their quills
And write their words in red
The letters scream each time they're made
In the hope of being read

The page becomes a sounding board
A mirror to the soul
A reflection meant to bring them peace
To comfort or console

They choose their words so carefully
Not wasting a drop of blood
Writing words that lift them up
As tears begin to flood

They'll write with true conviction
Each time they start to weep
They write sometimes to clear their minds
Before they get to sleep

When poets bleed a word is born
Trying to appease their need
Shining a light to the whole wide world
And all who want to read

Details | Narrative | |

A Story

It was on a Christmas Eve
early in the morn
into a world so often cold
a little girl was born.
Her parents, they did love her,
the way that it should be
but her father, who's a good man,
had been raised with cruelty.

When he doled out punishment
for all her childish ways
the lessons that he taught her
would stay with her all her days.
Growing up was never easy
and she grew up so confused.
Other kids did more than tease her
and at home she was abused.

But she grew up all the same
then came to that time of life
when she thought she was ready
became a mother and a wife.
They faced a lot of hardships
but tried to love anyway
and her husband, who does love her,
has been so mean along the way.

Yes, life is hard for everyone
this woman surely knows.
Hate and misunderstanding
seems to follow where she goes
with so many quick to tell her
that she is always wrong
so many times she has been shown
that she just don't belong.

She tries so hard to understand
the reasons for her tears
and is punished for her feelings
as she has been all her years.
She knows that there is more to life
than what always seems to be.
All she wants is to be loved
without the cruelty.

Note:  My dear friends, this is not an easy write for me but a necessary one.  I was at a very 
low point in my life and I prayed for God for direction or to let it end.  I wrote the poem I Am 
then joined PoetrySoup.  I know God led me to this wonderful site for a reason.  I may still 
have a long way to go but I am starting to move forward.  I want to thank you all for your 
encouragement and kindness.  Being able to write again is helping me and as fellow writers, 
I know you understand.  Thank you for sharing with me and teaching to become a better 
writer.  God bless you all and Happy Holidays!  Love, Robin.

Details | Free verse | |

Dealing the cards

Come on artists
lets play a game
its all different to me and i want you to see how i am different
and let me shine as you sign up another way 
as i prove to you my leadership of this new age wave

cards cards
give them new meanings
like you never knew you could 
and lets make the psychics pine through our words to figure out
what they are reading and believing

I wanna see your hearts and spades
dressed in tall grass or lemonaide
i wanna see your cups and wands
inbetween whispering winds and songs lead me there
i know you can come on 
come on 
come on be strong 
like a suit of clubs or diamonds
show me something
and then sprinkle your writings
and we'll make collectors out of all those we invite here
as they read and ponder the meanings of our literature

whats in your hand?
a royal flush a pair?
and as we deal the cards they stumble upon at this endless game 
of cribbage or poker
or tarock
or war who is winning and getting points?
what card means what to who and why

tell me artist as you write with your style on low and high
what makes what suit smile and fade shine and slide?
inside outside sphere of influence
be their collective the object of the psychics to crave?

blind leading the blind
and something they are after for days and days

a few cards your favorite cards play smart or dumb
shuffle the cards pick a game deal a hand
reveal what your playing and one day i'll tell you what we're playing what your 
cards mean
if nothing
to someone one day when the stumble your way
the mystery of nothing speaks something
and we rebuild the puzzle of cartomancy better and better this way

just inspire
once you know you can't
blind leadin gthe blind
so after you read this you can't
play along your uninvited
strike it off your list of things to do
round one is over now go find all who wrote
all who write all who have wriitten the masterpieces
of cards and see what they mean today and collect them for that is something no 
one else can do
until round two....

Details | Free verse | |

Why i'm a poetess

I'm just a kid, and life is a nightmare
I'm forced to be mature beyond my age
Using my writing as my therapy
Scrawling my thoughts across the page

Every couple days or so
a poem or two I write
I can't sleep while my thoughts process
So i scribble throughout the night

I give you all my thoughts and fears
this is the reason that i write
so that i can clear my head
giving me the strength i need to fight

In this book i write the things
that i cannot say to their face
but letting it all out on paper
helps me to keep my place

writing poems calms me down
and puts me back in control
I have been writing poems for a while no
since i was twelve years old

Writing puts things in perspective
shows me another point of view
it helps me work out what was done wrong
and shows me what i need to do

If you look closley at what I write
I think that you will find
That exposed on these many pages
is the darker side of my mind

Everything i feel, i write
my thoughts are a tangled mess
I write to clear my head and keep myself sane
thats why i'm a poetess

Details | Lyric | |

Let's Write A Poem

Here’s my plea: Let’s write a poem for the world to read;
And in it is a message that all can relate or heed;

Encourage others to pick a pen instead of a gun;
With this poem let people be taught to bond 

all spirits, whether in distress or in joy with a smile;
This poem we write be a reminder that life is fragile;

That peace is at hand, only if we want to achieve;
People will learn to greet enemies and they shall be received;

All of us can write, whether you’re white, black, or brown;
Just believe in what you can do; and not to aspire the crown

Of hate, if you dare tomorrow comes without tears,
Nor will there be worries of living in fears;

With this poem, people will burst not
In paroxysm of rage, but, be inspired to share a lot

Such as love, hope, or maybe, just give a friendly kiss;
You know, it’s easy to write a poem, than writing peace.

Details | Sonnet | |

Teacher, shall I write a sonnet

Teacher, shall I write a sonnet? Must I?
When I’m not so sure of my poetry…
Shall I write a poem of fourteen lines?
In iambic pentameter –by me?

What shall I write about? What can I say?
In this sonnet which I must jot down now?
My sonnet should be about what today?
To write a great sonnet I’m not sure how…

Teacher, can I write this sonnet later
For I’m not sure of what to write about?
The teacher then takes my simple paper
And “you already did.” my teacher shouts.

‘Detention’ my teacher says, ‘for lying,’
‘But thank you,’ she adds, ‘for at least trying.’

 © Mariam Mababaya.

Details | Epyllion | |


Motherland (Eclogue) 

In the country of my forefathers, 
Economy is friendless and upset, 
Politics are sleeping with labour, 
Justice is seducing foreign crime, 
Poetry is turned on, but it fears, 
Traditions keeps history hostage, 
Religions are attempting suicide, 
Nature is busy biting its tongues, 
Fruits are swearing at their trees, 
Education shows God axis finger, 
Seas gets shallow, graves deepen, 
Life confront its first nightmares, 
Death is satisfying its final desire, 
Future is stinking nothing but lies, 

June 13, 2003

By Mohlouoa Ntsasa

Details | Verse | |

My Words

Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words, 
and not necessarily my reality;                                     
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing

You can be who you want to be on any level 
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;  
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys,                                                                        or places that some don’t even think exist

They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry 
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart 
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses  whether they are just cases, 
or me in the absolute right here

My words exude positive intentions; 
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections 
and reversed dejection  
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul 
and temptations

Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before         
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect 
according to divine order

They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time 
because up until now, 
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time 
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside – 
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice 
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

   Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
    My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
        My Mother caring about all five in different ways
      Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays 
     My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
      Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John. 
       music  a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !

     Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
          The music  takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "    
      My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
                 My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
        feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food               
       the yelling , slamming of doors ,  tempers Flare , passion 
         Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
        After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
         Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?

       Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee  
                 No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
          the  Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .  
        Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
             Excited in Chicago !  seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
        Cubs ,  museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
       Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
             Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `  
        Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones , 
          scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
           ~ That is the Family I Love ,
                     that is the Family I choose to miss ~    

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Details | Narrative | |

New Paths

A new path is what we seek.
The surroundings are taking a peek,
Going through, very meek,
Seeing no bleaks,
Getting piqued,
While hearing creaks,
In the new paths that we seek...

The new path is what is found,
Going through forests bound,
Going through the path inbound,
With soothing and raging water sounds.
Walking confound,
Silence profounded,
Sight astounded,
Passed through burial grounds...

Seeking for another way around,
Noises resound,
Spirits surround,
The paths newfounded,
Our instincts compounded,
Followed by the hounds,
Echoes in ultrasounds,
Passed through mysterious breeding grounds...

Going to stamping grounds,
Trying to get off this ground,
With those burial mounds,
Death moving the wheels around,
Silhouettes running aground,
Trying to leave safe and sound,
Passing through some hunting grounds...

Seeking for common grounds,
The mistaken path redounded,
Regretful screams abound.
Plans propounded,
Though some are fouled,
Throughout the paths that were found...

However, most are lost and wounded,
Most tended to walk out,
Some minds and hearts full of doubts.
Hearing salvation shouts,
From all these new paths walked and found...

Details | Personification | |

Puzzle Piece

A puzzle piece you are to me 
Like a vine without any leaves. 
Your heart is pure your soul is 
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll 
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes 
it seemed, knowing they said 
no babies for me! Always a 
surprise you seem to be just 
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months 
you walked but not until 4 did 
you first talk! Always a terror 
making a beautiful mess always 
a surprise that has yet to be 
met! The twists and turns I 
know we will see will seem 
somewhat like a roller coaster 
to me! The milestones and 
special gifts you bring will make 
my life seem Like a dream, my 
special boy I have always said 
How special I knew not till 
Aspergers they said! The 
journey will be trying the 
journey will seem long! But 
with our family together we will 
chug along! My special boy I 
love you so and cannot wait to 
see you mature and grow! Now 
we have a goal we have our 
dream you see to make you the 
perfect fitting puzzle piece!! 

Written by: Christina Kirks 
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For 
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr 
Mommy loves you to eternity 
and beyond! Forever and 

Details | I do not know? | |


There was once a man.
He’d always wanted to write,
But his biggest failing was
That he wasn’t very bright.

Whenever he started 
On a story or a plot,
Before he could pen it
He simply forgot

What he had thought earlier
And he wasn’t very wise
So all he wanted was that
The end be a surprise.

And he made up plots and tales
Funny, sad and intense
But in the end he found that
None of them made any sense

For follow as he might all grammar
He could never be concise
And what is more, the ending
Was never a surprise.

Yet he cherished dreams
Of becoming famous and great
Of writing beautiful stories
Of defying his impending fate

But, for all his boldness
He could never roll the dice
And his stories never ended
In a nail-biting surprise.

He told his tales to children
He tried them on every friend
But they never gasped at 
The crucial part, the end.

He sent them off to editors
Of magazines of acclaim
But they all sent the stories back 
Saying the ending was all the same.

He tried to write a book too
But in the middle he got stuck
And he wasn’t very clever
So he simply cursed his luck

Then finally he gave up
And wallowed in self-despair
He felt life was being hard on him
He felt it wasn’t fair.

Then one of his friends suggested 
That if he really had to write
He needn’t just write stories
To prove his wit and might.

He could simply write a cookbook
Or an instruction manual too
Or a traveller’s guide to touring 
A place like Timbuktu

Now the man wasn’t very brilliant
But he could recognise good advice
When he saw it, so he took it
Though he wasn’t very wise

And he wrote a self-help book on
Coping with writer’s block
It became  a national bestseller
Every bookstore ran out of stock.

And he made pots of money
Because it was reprinted thrice
And he was always very glad
He took his friend’s advice

So now if you ask his opinion
He looks very condescending
And smiles, and says, “to write a book
Who needs a surprise ending?”

Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt

Details | Free verse | |

Sociedad Quebrantada

Esta sociedad ciega esta en crisis,

Es la causante de la corrució caótica,

Solo viven de la intención inseguros,

Sin saber qué es la determinación,

Dejándose llevar por una doctrina quebrantada...


La sociedad solo vive por vivir,

No dejando legados,

Sino dejando marcas.

Por eso, la sociedad aclama saber,

Pero en realidad no saben nada,

En comparación a los reales sabios...


Pero, la sociedad rechaza,

La sociedad reprime,

Y la sociedad restringew a los sabios,

A veces por envidia,

Ya que están cegados por ambición y pendejadas...


La sociedad rechaza el ideal de los sabios,

Pero dejan a tontos e imbéciles libres al mundo;

A éstos les encanta vidajenear,

Por solo romper privacidad...


Solo pocos aprecian la amistad y el amor;

Otros se limitan a sí mismos y se ciegan;

Luego, se transmutan a incrédulos ambiciosos,

Sin propia convicción...


Por eso, muchos ambiciosos y mentirosos,

Recurren a la religión, en últimos instantes;

Pero, en últimos instantes es que éstos,

Mueren en propia cobardía e hipócrita sanidad...


No existe tal cosa como perfección,

Solo existe la compleja simpleza o la simple complejidad;

Pero, nada es imposible,

Ya que no hay límites en la posibilidad...


Por eso, no todos los que aventuran se pierden;

No todos los que exigen, aplican lo exigido;

No todos los que miran, observan;

No todos los que oyen, escuchan;

No todo el que hiere, merece;

No todas las heridas, sanan;

No todos los que inhalan, respiran;

No toda sonrisa es feliz;

No toda boca, habla;

No toda sangre y lágrima es en vano;

No toda mente y corazón son puros e inocentes;

No todos los que actuan, piensan;

No todos los que piensan, analizan;

No todo el que analiza, siente;

No toda alma es neutral y digna;

No todo el que existe, vive;

Y no todo el que vive, sobrevive...

Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt

Details | Light Poetry | |

Soul Sisters

Such an Amazing girl god put into my life.

He knew i needed you at that exact time

Funny when we met I thought you were to good for me

But when you approached me the sweetest girl I did meet.

From that day on we have never truly been apart cause I

carry you around everywhere in my heart. You have been the

rock when I needed a friend around, you have been the light

when the darkness consumed me and took away my sunshine

Even when were miles apart the phone connects us and keeps

our strongest bond. 17 years feels like such a short time but

I feel I have always had you in my life. Soul Sisters we were

meant to be.. You my beloved friend are such a fresh breeze

Even after a year apart it was like yesterday that we did part

so through the many miles and through the long hard road

I know this friendship will always survive. Your a burst of joy

to me each day I thank the Lord for the sweet blessing he gave!

BY:Christina McCullouch


Details | ABC | |


Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night, 
from an evil source that I fear to strike. 
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices 
that when I found my stallion horses. 
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide, 
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide. 
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep 
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat 
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast. 
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.

by Keith Kadell

Details | Rhyme | |

Happiness in a Wrong way

Happiness in a Wrong way – Zamreen Zarook

In the notion of seeking happiness,
I thought of stepping in to nonsense,
I dream I could find success,
But I had only little access.

Every attempt that I lend,
It was an utter failure at the end,
My life was full of difficult bend,
But God is always there as a good friend.

My deeds travel in various ways,
Some times in subways,
Or in times it goes in highways,
But I had the belief, God is there always.

North and south families surrounded,
East and west friends are rounded,
Every time fear on death soughed,
I am trapped, and my merits are loaded.

Details | Free verse | |

My Treasure Chest

So, you want to know what is in my chest.
Well there is no silver,
there is no gold,
There is no hope,
there is no love,
there is no girlfriend;
there is no food,
there is no charm,
there is no honesty,
there is nothing in my chest.

It is empty,
filled with cobwebs and dust,
with a couple spiders hanging around
looking for something to eat.
I am like the spiders
looking for something to eat,
ingest hope, love, charm and honesty.

No pirates will come and take my treasure chest away.
There is nothing for them to take,
but they don't know of the secret compartment,
filled with poetry,
filled with art,
filled with culture,
filled with my own love
that I am willing to share.
Everyone always looks in the chest,
but never finds that secret compartment!
What a shame, for if they found that secret,
they would see life for what it really was.

My treasure chest is a mystery too most people.
I hope you all know,
next time you look in someone's chest
look for the hidden door,
because that place holds the most beautiful of things.

For the conest: What is in your Treasure Chest
Written by: Christopher Boskovski

Details | Lyric | |

Lacerated Wings

They are bound to the Earth like trees
Suffocating under the weight of an icy grave 
Reaching to be free, but only their limbs are seen
Hoping that one day someone will see:
They can't escape with lacerated wings

The ocean surrounds me, covering everything
Nothing will be clearly seen; confusion overwhelming
No-one can save you, you're on your own, left to die
Manipulating every bleeding heart you can find
I can't escape with lacerated wings.

Swarms of nets, waves of screams 
Entangle: your captive illusions and dreams
The mask has be seared - The truth now they see
The Liar - Vampiric Fiend; lowly thief
And now they know you can't escape with Lacerated Wings

There's reasons for your rejections:
Your Heavy heart's transferred oppression
The scars are too deep to pass the trials
But you can find peace in your cage of empty spirals
You Cannot Escape With Lacerated Wings

Details | Rhyme | |

Shakespeare Doesn't Like Your Emo Poems

I had a cat name snowball
she died!
she died!

my mom said she was at the vet
she lied!
she lied!


Just Kidding!

Oh no!
Look at this joe
Face on the desk cause he's writing so low
Lifted his head and what did I see:

Oh wah! wah! wah!
Mommy didn't love me!

Saw another girl and her mouth was so cringe
Seem like the pen in her hand wasn't able to unhinge
and I walk passed her and saw some or her words:

life is so lonely
I want to blow some coke
father doesn't know me
people think i'm a joke

Holy ghost and holy spirit!
Why are people so sad?
I thought the guy was A.D.D ing
And the chick was on her rag

I understand that life ain't full of win
But just loathing in it is as bad as a sin!

Cutt-ing yourself
Drink-ing to death
Bin-ging on drugs

So you could feel that "close"
That out of body experience where you leave that "ghost"

Grabb-ing a pen
leave-ing a note
Commit-ing a suicide

If I read more of this depressing stuff I think I will cry!

Listen love
go and feel pain
So your girlfriend dumped you
Then go to the strip club and make it rain!

Uh-oh girl
just lost your job
so now your broke
So go out and shake your ass for some handsome bloke!

I understand if you
get upset
have regret
and want your life to be pushed for reset

but when you go through that you
grow up more
see to explore
find out that you could high again sore!

So write me a love poem with no break up
Write me a story of that one day of endless luck
Give me a riddle where the cow goes mooo
That's right be silly!
Shakespeare doesn't like your emo poems!
I wouldn't too!

ps: hey guys! it's late! and the later it gets the weirder i get!(well it's 3am for me, 
idk what time it is for y'all) :D
anywho we all have written our share of emo poems ( i know i have!
heck i still do!) I just couldn't help myself to write this, especially since 
my motivation was a shirt i saw that actually said "Shakespeare doesn't
like your emo poems." ( with picture of Will annoyed as heck XD)
no not Will Smith :p

Details | Free verse | |

Mother and son

I cherish you,
If you cherish me.

You brought me to life,
We began to meet through time,
Even though,
Sometimes you don't comprehend me,
Sometimes you don't understand me,
That sometimes time isn't enough,
That sometimes instincts get uncontrolled...,
But still,
You were designated for my life,
And you profile my living...
We share lives...

Time brings maturity,
And time doesn't last forever,
As well as we don't last forever...

There is no such thing,
As total perfection,
Even though,
Thank you...

Details | Free verse | |

Thinking Of You

I remember happiness,
No more,
No less,
Only true love.

I imagined,
You beside me...

I remember your eyes,
I remember your lips,
I feel your love,
I know your life...

Details | Blank verse | |

The Dust God

I am drifting into memories.
Wasting away like a million photographs fading in the sun-
Yet with ceaseless renewal,
Staining the depths of my eyes with images
In the minds shutter ever fluttering to infinity,
Stringing together this conscious stream I play in-
My stupendous God made of dust and space
Tightrope walking existence!
And to think we too are made of mostly nothing-
Chance so scarcely gracing our atoms with a single touch
In a place so lonely when counted, 
Yet so abounding when felt!
So dance with the Dust God 
Poised miles above the earth-
Prance on your stilts, 
And peek into the great valleys beneath his skin.
Because any moment we could disappear 

Jacob Reinhardt	

Details | Rhyme | |

This Poem

i write this poem to pass away the time
to make me forget that loving her was a crime
i sit here and type these endless awkward rhymes
to help me cope during the darkest of times
i write this poem to help my mind forget
to stop my eyes from crying, from getting wet
stop tears that flows when i am upset
i wish that she and i had never met
i write this poem because its all i can do
with a heart so sad, a life that's so blue
i wish that my love for her wasn't true
i wish i could live a life that is different and new
i write this poem that does not make any sense
about a feeling that is so hopelessly intense
i write it without even a trace of pretense
this is my last stand, my last line of defense
i write this poem to bid her goodbye
to my existence she will always be the reason why
though to my messages she won't reply
i will always love her until the day i die

Details | Sonnet | |

Poetry of Life

growing up in a female family
and having a severe stutter was tough
but those stories came to me easily
back in high school I never wrote enough

as a veteran I’m writing again
and I’m learning so much more being here
I’m a poet after an injured brain
so many years ago nothing to fear

I even enjoy reading poetry
and Poetry Soup has helped me with that
and I often write a contest entry
I know my poems are never somewhat

what motivates me answer is life does
and poetry does keep me on my toes

Details | Romanticism | |

The Princess of Beauty

                         Please, write a letter to me.Describe your feelings.
                              What do you think about, a time like this?
                    Write down your heartache, and write down your songs.
                            You first travelled to Paris, and then to Nice.

              When you arrived at the Rivieran, you kissed the seashore for me.
                    I´m dreaming of dancing the flamenco with you, in Spain.
          I would like to kiss you in Barcelona, and the sculptures would watch.
               They would like to get us married, but you´ve still got your pain.

              Once in Nice, but now in Venice, and probably hidden in a gondola.
                     Is that the place, where your dreams will become true?
                      Is that the town of arts, which will change your visions?
                    Venice by the waters, but are your paintings gonna be few?

                           And finally, in Greece, you felt the warm breeze.
                          You walked in the old footsteps of ancient poets.
               You, the Queen of poetesses, who always are rhyming by Athens.
                  She, the Princess of Beauty, who has caught me into her nets.


Details | Free verse | |

On A Lonely Bench

Sitting on a lonely bench,

Memories got me blenched,

Your heart I tried to clench,

Though, the rains got me drenched,

From hearts I needed to entrench...


Your words not retrenched,

From things I wanted to bent,

While you often tended to bend,

Without letting me mend...


You, I tried to fend,

You borrowed and erased te times I used to lend,

Manipulated and used by you,

Pretending to be a friend...


From hallows I scended

From errors you descended,

My life wished to be attended.

Even though, you got me expended,

My hands were still extended,

Even though, you got me offended...


The times I misspended,

You still condescended me,

Though, the changes were about to be impended,

I was still amended,

And I was still intended...


But, I was not comprehended,

Even though, you were condemned and untamed,

While I was aimed to be blamed,

Still, more thing you wanted to borrow and gain...


Although, this is the end,

The ways, I will paint,

For the pains to get unbended,

As I contemplate nature and life,

With memories that swayed and portended,

As my soul slowly transcended,

While sitting on a lonely bench...

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: V

Omniscient guy
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?

Details | Rhyme | |


My dreams and desires
Are to write to inspire
I have so much to give 
That is my reason to live
Peace always invades my spirit
I’m so glad my soul welcomes it
My compass to my life is lost
I cannot navigate the way home so pen pays the cost
I will always write to find my way
To my God I pray
As the realization dawned on me
When my pen flows I’m free
I can be anybody I want to be
So many of us have to settle for a life of deception 
I shall soar beyond this world's limitations
In all things, follow your heart
In life be careful how you walk and talk
Think it, believe it
Don’t hold back do it
Let your dream grow
Please let God take control

Details | Rhyme | |


She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.

If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.

She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.

She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.

Everyone thought she was happy, 
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?

She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.

Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.

They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.

They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.

Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.

She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred. 

She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.

She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.

Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
Killed herself,
everyone had forgotten she needed help.

Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.

Details | Rhyme | |


As God guided my hand to write this poem with black ink.
With love and favor He gave me words to write this in a wink.
I’ve learned that an empty heart has no compassion;
But an empty heart gets no satisfaction.
Some of us see no meaning or purpose in life.
I think because we stressed with problems and strife.
Most people appear happy and confident.
But many people still try to fill up their own void with achievement.
Faith in the life of a person is that the word must become a living force within the 
soul of a man.
I put this in the poem hoping you can understand.
My mother always told me this, “that an empty heart doesn’t care,  
“And definitely that a empty heart has no love to share.”
I’m not selfish but I'm doing this for me.
So I can be free and just let be.
See a part of me knows what to do.
But another piece of me has no clue.
In my life I'm making my own path.
I've sat around for days and done the math.
Having faith and believing is the only thing that keeps me going,
So I just keep positive people and things around me that is what keep me moving.

Romans 3:19-20  Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who 
are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may 
be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified 
in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin. 

Details | Bio | |

I Am Poetry

I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation 
                     of words cascading from a nebulous eye 
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto 
                     a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,

and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly 
                     sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades 
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry 
                     fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,

Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion 
                     itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so 
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever 
                     careering from caustic career path to another new low,

Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s 
                    counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the 
                    fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp 

Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent 
                    with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering 
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond 
                    farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering 

Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and 
                    gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the 
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed 
                    existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a

Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding 
                    gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of 
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels 
                    in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love. 

Praise no other; I am poetry.

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: III

Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Details | Rhyme | |

Jennifer Part 3

She has so much pain inside of her,
she doesn't know how to address it.
So she turns the pain into anger,
after she explodes, she becomes quiet.

She goes up to her room, upset.
Why does the world hate her so?
She thinks to herself, “That’s it!”
But in reality, it isn't though.

She lies on her bed,
Pulls out her book and reads.
As she turns the pages, she loses her head,
In her mind, she thinks “This is what I need.”

A place to escape the world,
Somewhere she can run.
For it seems everyone hates this girl,
And nothing she does is fun.

She plays her cello 
And loses herself in the music
She does this when she feels low
Then she plays the song of her pick

She listens to the beat she makes,
Trying to make it sound perfect,
But oh, she keeps making mistakes,
She thinks that she will never get it.

She leaves the cello alone
And watches her shows
She then grabs her phone
And tells her best friend the show as it goes.

She leaves the TV on, 
Then she enters her laptop.
She stays on till dawn,
She just can’t seem to stop.

She loves the idea of leaving the real world
And entering an imaginary one.
That’s the story of the girl,
Who is never done.

Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess

Details | I do not know? | |

Battle of the two Giants

High noon announced the duel of the giants

Poetry and Hip Hop gunslinging the date was set

One accused the other of raping the verbal world

As poetry sighted the words of Poe, hip hop did hurl

"Cant you rock these lame %$# words in slow

That dumb %&# Raven needs to be defeathered bro"

Poetry stood back and shook his hands down low

Reaching for his quilt using hip hop as ink he wrote

"The sound of silence is gold when you release your soul,

I need to feel the heartbeat of man so go!"

Hip hop now breakdancing on the floor

Laughed at this poor attempt to show poetrys gold

"You call that soul? I see it as a blind man,

Using fancy words to hide your fears so grand"

As poetry began to write another line

12:00 o clock came up as the sun did shine

Both stood back to back drawing their weapons

As the countdown to the duel approached like a new son

3 steps forward both rhymers turned about face

Two bangs later the smoke cleared both were embraced

The two giants knelt to ground their hearts did bleed

This time not of words but of blood so clean

At the same time both died as they killed each other

Why not write about how we are killing one another

Black vs White, hip hop vs poetry

Same old siht but this time its affecting me

Details | Rhyme | |

I am not SAD

I am not sad!

While most of my poems may be SAD
They reflect the experiences that I’ve HAD
I promise you I am not MAD
In fact most days I feel GLAD

Whenever I do feel DOWN
Or sadness is AROUND
When pain and fear are ABOUND
I write to release my inner FROWN

My writing is the skeleton KEY
To all things that make me - ME
It opens the door and sets me FREE
To document my life’s JOURNEY

I write today to tell you SO
Just in case you did not KNOW
My memories are clear and PLAIN
On my journey there’s both joy and PAIN


Happy memories are all I SEE
When I reflect on my girls and ME
They fill my heart with such JUBILEE
And now my life has UNITY 

Alaya and Saen adore me SO
I love them and this they KNOW
They repaired my heart and helped it GROW
In their eyes I see love’s GLOW

A love like theirs is INCOMPARABLE
This makes the pain of my past - BEARABLE
They fill my spirit with joy and GLEE
They are the reason I was meant to BE

Each and every day I PRAY
I look in the mirror and I SAY
Thank you lord for this DAY
Watch over my children as they PLAY
And please show me the WAY
To be a better person - TODAY

This eases the sadness in ME
So I can live and be HAPPY!


Details | Free verse | |


They help us,
When we are down.
They make us stand up,
And go on...

They make us smile,
They bring us hope,
They give us comprehension,
Worth to trust...

They give us a reason,
They make us forget our darkness,
They enlighten us in harsh moments...

They are designated for our lives,
They profile our living,
They bring us to life...

Details | I do not know? | |

Welcome 2013

Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome. 
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome. 
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.

Details | Ballad | |

My addiction

I have an addiction...
It dont matter what time of day it is my addiction is there...
Not always in the literall since...
But it is always on my mind...
I lay my head down to sleep at night thinking about you...
I sleep dreaming about you...
I wake up thinking about you...
Your always on my mind...
No matter what I do my addiction is always on my mind...
Even if your not the last one I talk to before I lay my head down to sleep...
I still lay my head down thinking of you...
I just cant get enought of you...
No matter what my addiction is there...
My addiction has a name...
Her name is Shelby Nestle...
No matter how much we text or talk on the phone...
Its never enough...
I cant get enough of your beautiful eyes...
I cant get enough of that beautiful smile...
I cant get enough of kissing your soft lips...
That feeling I get inside when our lips touch...
Or holding you in my arms...
This is a new addiction to me...
Never have I been this addicted this quick...
It scares the shyt outta me...
But then I love it...
You are my new addiction baby... 
You are my...
My heroin...
My ecstacy... 
My cocaine...
You are my own personal drug...
I cant imagine and addiction stronger...
You are my addiction...
I wouldnt even think about trying to break this addiction...
I wouldnt go to rehab for this addiction...
I like it to much...

Details | Carpe Diem | |

Lucid Dream

Look upon city once known by name,
ruins that I called home, streets swallowed by flame,
in time alive shell not witness less of what should you understand,
reach on to hand of a stranger, scroll remain;
in signs that might be changing welcome,
different of a man.

When dawn awakes and there is no light,
upon dusk of man darkness will be spread by sight,
in time not different change will arise, life we thought you knew,
death would recognize.

Hearts will bound to King without a Crown,
why do mothers shed tears, echo rooted in the ground,
is there reason of a foolish wars, contracts written in blood,
new born babies died breathless, can't even appreciate the Sun,
don't deserve to live, not worth of the land,
existence will be scattered in ashes,
you will be remembered
by name.

Details | ABC | |

A New Life

With birth is a new beginning, 
A destination to a new journey ahead 
From a child grown into maturity 
With youth to age 
From innocent to awareness 
And ignorance to just knowing, 
Perhaps to wisdom 
From the weakness to the strength 
Health to sickness 
We pray to good health again 
A path each of us follow 
With dreams of success in our lives 
To being happy with bliss and love our selfs 
And one another 
We could have a life filled with loves joy 
To treasure always forever 
A new life miracle is born into that 
First new life of natures blessings 
Never take anything for granted 
For this new life is a gift from the heavens 
To always cherish forever and each is unique 

By Brian otoole

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Details | Narrative | |

My Story Telling Who is this Princes

The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World

Details | Free verse | |

Blamin' My Affliction

I set out to write a poem
For Leighann’s Affliction contest
My ADD was in full force but 
I was full of promise and zest

So I wrote a couple of lines
Then noticed the grimy floor
Polished the dusty mantle
Gawked at the hot guy next door

I sat back down to write 
To focus and stay on task
O Wait…that new soap opera
And my cucumber face mask

Then I read the contest rules
AFTER I wrote these lines
It was supposed to be free verse
And my oversight shines!

Since I failed to follow directions
I say with true conviction
If I do not place in this contest….
I’ll  blame it on my affliction 

*Though I made light of it in this poem, Attention Deficient Disorder (commonly known as ADD or ADHD) is a serious disorder, but treatment is available.  Treatment (for you or your children) is not something to be feared-it changed my life!!!  

Details | Sonnet | |

Life's Emotions

when it comes to stress I grin and bear it
love I will welcome with arms wide open
patience in waiting rooms I often sit
always hoping for knowledge be sharpen

living with all these emotions is hard
and each one of us has a bunch of these
for hate and anger I always discard
keeping emotions in check is no breeze

serenity is the ultimate goal
negative emotions may prevent it
and they tend to darken are very soul
peace of mind wouldn’t even cost a bit

for me poetry helps me keep it straight
my future is always my to create

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Details | Concrete | |

I Write What I Say and Say What I Write until its Done

If I write a lie then my whole life has been like an entire lie/
I can't do what must be done if one doesn't give it a try/
Im living what I write until my breath of words in my body die/
You see my rhymes grounded until they finally set forth in flight/
Paragraphs blinded until words give them sight/
If I write what was wrong I can still make that mistake right/
Im trying to live in peace yet at times I won't live if I don't fight/

I shouldn't be thinking like two because I am only but one/
You see working on verses late into the night until the early morning sun/
I fight with sophisticated verses upon many losses until my spoken fight is finally won/
Lost into thoughts so deep until they no longer seem fun/
Thinking out the day worried every night that I sleep with a gun/
If I am not to your standards I dont give a **** if I am shunned/
Im doing what I do until the day that my purpose in life is finally done/

Details | Lyric | |

Come As You Are

At one point in my life i was an artist
I used to paint and draw
Covering a piece of paper
In beautiful colors
And my art told a story
The sort of story you couldn't talk about
I used to go to school every day
Showing up late 
Wasn't something I'd do
But i dropped out
Leaving my education behind
I played the bass guitar
In a band called 
The Nocturnal
My fingers ran against that bass
Pure magic
The sound of the gods
Setting out to destroy the world
Pure Punk straight from Seattle
At one point i was clean
Sober and pure like a new born baby
Falling further into 
What you now call 
Screwing up my veins
with every shot of herion
Killing my brain cells
With every joint i smoked
Clogging up my nose 
With every pill you could have known
I used to write lyrics
About my life
My childhood
I used to write journals
The ones you read in the book 
that was published of me
I got up on that stage every night
As i was
Nothing fake
Nothing glamourous
Only a few scars
One shot of heroin
Come as you are
The words only speak for 

Details | Clerihew | |

Not, yet

I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.

Details | Couplet | |

all about Sashi

By Sashi. Prabhu (ZEAUOXIAN)
I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more. I have cheated my fears alright, I have broken up with my doubts uptight. I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more. I got engaged to my faith last night, I married my dreams at the sight of first light. I am not afraid to get up today, I am not afraid to wake up to another day today, I am not afraid to open my eyes and see today, I am not afraid to climb out of bed today. I am ready to walk into the gardens in the heavy rains, I am ready to open my nose and smell of mud from wet terrain I am ready to face the world all alone, I am ready to do anything to walk up the stepping stone. I am ready to say anything to anyone, I am ready to talk to anyone under the sun. I am ready to yell from mountain tops, I am ready to dive from ravine drops. I am ready to walk for a cause, I am ready to run to protect environmental laws. I am ready to touch taboo objects & subjects I am ready to work on regressions of y on x I am ready to understand tangled issues, I am ready to wipe all tears with tissues. I am ready to taste tropical fruits, I am ready to chop, boil and eat bamboo shoots I am ready to jump out from a moving truck, I am ready to pull my allies from loads of muck. I am ready to be creative again, I am ready to write and spill out my joys and pain. I am ready to sing and hear my own songs, I am ready to correct my own wrongs. I am ready to throw a stone afar, I am ready to play my own music for all with the door ajar. I am ready to write notes about me, I am ready to put them up for all to see. I am ready to whistle whilst I walk down the alley, I am ready to bring out tunes and them create verbally I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more.

Details | Lyric | |


As time goes by
No need to hang around and cry
Shame no one ever told me
All you need is to feel free

My mind goes frantic
It builds up inside,develope panic
Unleash that tension
You don`t need to mention
I`ll be climbing that wall at high speed
And keep myself on that track until my fingers bleed

I need your touch
The one that give me so much
Gotta do things your way
There`s no real recommendations to lifes`highway
Reliving history`s melancholic events
Wouldn`t change more than it prevents

As time goes by
No need to hang around and cry
Shame no one told me
All you need is to feel free

18th.February 2012

Got the idea to this write from someone I worked with a few years back.Never got
his life on the roll,always stuck in what people would say or think about what he 
was doing.Guess we all feel that to a certain point,but my message in this write is
to live while we`re here.Life`s too short to second guess everything we do.All though
I think common sense should be the anchor in whatever actions we do.

Details | Sonnet | |

My Shakespearean Sonnet

What Shakespeare didn’t write he left to me
In this, a brand new world and century
The English language lives and breathes, alive
A poet’s job is helping it survive

The Muses use us, soul and body, mind
To write of things that can not be defined
The subject matter always stays the same
It’s love and hate, it’s greed and fear and fame

New words evolve to name the things we see
But subject matter stays through history
Our hands the only instruments of worth
To help the Muses speak and then give birth

Their words are bridges crossing deep divides
That bring to man the peace that truth provides

Details | Haiku | |

In The Dark Shadows

In the dark shadows,

Fallowed, shallowed and hollowed,

Some remain sorrowed.

Details | Free verse | |

Dark Forthcoming

The dark skies are coming,

Dark clouds are appearing,

The wind is gusting,

Trees are fronting,

We are shunning,

We go running...


The dark skies are coming,

Rains are blossoming,

Nature is bumping,

They go cunning,

The sky is drumming,

Forest are burning,

We run intending...


Dark skies are coming,

Gusts are interfering,

Nature is in confusion,

Humanity getting in pandemonium,

Minds in disorder,

Intention unbecoming...


Dark skies are coming,

Darkness is rising,

Sun is fading,

It is causing an uprising,

It keeps arising,

We keep striving...


Dark skies are coming,

Darkness is blinding,

Gusts keep arriving,

Deception and treachery are conniving,

Pain gets agonizing,

We go crying,

You go regreting...


The dark skies are coming,

Mountains are crumbling,

Clounds are thundering,

Soil is spoiling,

Bodies are breaking,

Hearts are bleeding,

Birds are flocking,

Fishes are emerging,

Somethings are dying,

Humanity is surviving,

Safety is distrusted,

Most things are doubted,

Everything is happening,

The dark forthcomings are near...

Details | Concrete | |


A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
after all.

Details | Free verse | |


Why go to sleep?
Why we are the ones that have missing things.
Why take a breeze?
When I am the one that needs zephyr.

Why cry until you are satisfied?
When you are always dissatisfied.
Why go and feel contempt?
When we only need respect.
So, why do you expose yourself?
When you haven't cleansed yourself.

Why go and overreact?
When you sometimes don't make a great impact.
Why go and bite?
When you know you cannot eat more than you can chew.

Why give?
When you only deserve.
Why shed some tears?
When they sometimes aren't clear.
Why are you happy?
When you know you are lying.

Why are we bleeding?
When we only need healing.
So, why live?
When we go and die.
And why die?
When we want life.

We might fall down,
But it is never too late,
'Cause life,
Starts now...

Details | Free verse | |

What Shall I Say

I hear the call of friends but I am slow to harken, 
What shall I say what would you want to hear? 
I will not write of Erotic images, I will not spew phony 
flowery words. I will only write the truth, what is in
my soul. I have written of the Love that we all should
have for one another, I have written to bring a smile, I
have written of loss, pain and struggle. Do you think me
too sagely, an oracle, a seer, a paradox, a riddle?
I am an enigma, a vision you cannot see, a word you do not
understand, a sad song too hard to sing, a thorn that pricks
at you, a dream that is never understood. This life is about
caring, giving, learning, sharing. I am the one that will
not be loved, a nuance, a shadow, a whisper, a tear shed,
one forgotten, a bitter taste. What shall I say, can I ease the
pain, take away the troubles, brighten lives? Nay I cannot, If I
could this world would be a haven of love, bliss, harmony, a 
paradise, a comfort, a healing, a revelation. What shall I say?

My time here grows short and my heart is sad and broken, I 
have no inspiration to write anymore. The words that come out
are too hard to write, too hard to read, a vexation of spirit, a sound 
that is disturbing. This may be the last verse that I ever write my
soul is in despair, I have lost the desire to ponder on the things 
of this world. The thing that you should know is that I love everyone
of you. What else can I say?

Details | I do not know? | |

TO all: PoetrySoup members

I don't know if is me feeling like this,
I know that somebody is reading my poems,
I feel comfort whenever I check my poetry comments,
And to see sometimes there is a light at the end of the tunnel,
Out of all the friends and family I have got,
I have NEVER been so touched by some of the poems I read here,
They inspire me to write more,
Yes it is sad I got so many friends and family,
Yet nobody seems to understand my heart,
When I write poems it comes deep from my heart,
I find as therapy and something that I can get out of my chest.

Thank you to all PoetrySoup members who read my poems =)
p.s. I was wondering which of my poems is your favorite?

Details | Ballad | |

Silent times

Silent times

Sometimes, I really do not care
About anything at all
My mind goes kind of quiet then
My mode is kind of cool
And all I really want to do
Is sit here looking in
Forgetting all the world outside
Forgetting all the din

There’s a time to send ones energy
And circle it around
But then there comes a sacred time
When the harmony is found
Waiting there within the dark
To hold one cozily
A time to be in her soft clutch
And bask there happily.

Then when the muse has been recharged
It’s time to wander back
And let the words come pouring out
Cause just along the track
The wind, the flowers and dancing trees
Have replaced the mystery
So now the words they may flow free
With much more energy.

Details | Concrete | |

Confession Chamber

Forgive me Father for I have sinned,
for being born with you to begin,
its been a long time since my last confession,
I don't wont your blessing,
lies and resurrection.
I don't believe in love, I don't believe in faith,
cant stand my own kind,
humble in hate,
I don't believe in truth, I don't wont to be saved,
erase me from your list,
buried, unmarked,

Abused as a child,
bloodstains of a man,
only shovel awaits,
forgive me if you can.

Details | Epic | |

Why I Write

Why! I write because it helps to release some of my feelings, 
It's a way of me attending to my heart which is healing.
I write because it comes naturally especially when I'm stressed, 
I think its at that time i write at my best. 

I write to feel free and to be strong so i can fight , 
to find my place in this world and overcome lonely nights.
I write because i want to prevent this pain, 
to help my mind from going insane. 
Why i write, because of you. 
Yes you! 
Your looking at your self because you don't have a clue. 
Right now i can tell your mind is way pass the clouds and lost in the blue.
Why i write, because i want you to see things in my life, 
how its hurt when i got stabbed by a knife. 
Why i write, not because i want you to only read and look out for rhymes,
because reading and understanding is important at times. 
Why i write, to help tell about mine and other love tales, 
to show you how easy a strong relationship fails.

Why i write, not to be in this spot light, 
but its because i am RYO the Poem "Black Knight". 
So i really careless what people might think.
I am the poet putting words don't with the ink. 
I am out of your league also your range. 
I am not surprised cause this isn't strange. 
Don't ask this question again ' Why i Write'.


Details | Rhyme | |

Will You Travel With Me To Heaven PART THREE

Imagine a king who has many
Servants staying at his palace
It would make no sense at all if those
Servants do not fulfill their purpose

Those servants were ordered to work
And to respect that king at all times
While the king gives them a place to stay
They should always make his palace shine

Any slave who does not work may
Eventually be kicked out soon
Any slave who works improperly
May likewise end up without a room

That king has a right to command
His slaves to sing lovely songs of him
To choose the number of times to wash
A staircase, because he is 'king'

That king has a right to command his
Slaves to do well to his family
To treat his close friends with respect
And welcome his guests cheerfully

To tell them not to touch this and that
To disallow them from certain rooms
To do what he commands them to do
As he is the owner who rules

So when Allah gives a command
A command that must be obeyed
You must obey Allah's Commandments
Or else you might get yourself astray

So if Allah commands you to pray
To Him, five prayers everyday
Don't ask 'why? ' Don't ask 'why five salahs? '
Just listen to God, and obey

God lets you walk on the earth He made
God gives you fresh air for you to breathe
God keeps the clouds above you floating
And gives you drink and food to eat

God gave you a brain with which to think
And still you ask 'why should you pray? '
We pray to Allah, the Mighty King
Who lets us live each night and day

When you're awake, when you're asleep
The air you breathe each night and day
What you inhale and what you exhale
Are some things from God which you don't pay

The ability to taste is a
Gift from God which many just ignore
Imagine if you could not taste the
Food you eat, eating would be a bore

You eat fruits and vegetables that God
Created, from plants that Allah made
You drink water which belongs to God
And yet you ask 'why must we pray? '


Details | Rhyme | |

If You Had but One Last Poem to Pen

If you knew that you’d be leaving soon
And had but one last poem to write;
What might you pen as you begin 
To say your final, farewell good night?

Would it be addressed to those who’ve blessed 
Your world with all good things?
To someone close you love the most
Or perhaps, a song of spring?

Of changing winds that swirl and spin
From cradle to the grave;
If you had but one last poem to pen
What would you want to say?

Would thankfulness surround you
For every breath you’ve ever breathed?
Or will you write before losing sight 
Of past regrets and shattered dreams?

Will your pages be filled with all the thrills
Of memories made with laughter?
Or will sadness remain despite all the gains
Of riches you’ve chased after?

And I wonder will the darkness fill
Our minds with somber sojourns;
Or will instead we find we’re led
To God’s gigantic, love-filled ocean?
If we have but one last poem to write
Before leaving Earth’s atmosphere;
What will we say that just might stay
In the hearts of those still here? 

Details | Rhyme | |

Love Is Louder

Love they say is louder than hate.
But I think that it’s a shame,
That only holds true when you have a pretty face.
Maybe I’m a disgrace,
For saying such a thing,
But think about your life and how true that *****rings.
And I cannot deny what this mirror is reflecting,
What’s standing in my way is only one thing.
It was beauty killed the beast,
In famine it will bring feast.
And sideways glances, second chances, you’ll get those at least.
But what about me?
What about us?
It’s power like money,
It drives greed,
it drives lust.
So what about you?
What can we do?
All I can hear,
The sounds that make the world disappear.
Love is louder than hate, but I can’t hear it from here.

Details | Free verse | |

My Notebook

Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper 
It looks like you’re outtah luck…no wonder you’re drowning in dread
You need a shoulder to lie your head down for a moment’s rest… 
You need a helper…to aid you while you struggle emotionally…
I’m not trying to irritate you purposely

Try with all your might…try your best
To stay optimistic and fervent 
I believe that you’ll pass the test
Be upbeat, kindhearted and jubilant  

I appreciate the words you wrote on my notebook…
Sometimes, I feel like leftovers left on the counter…
I’m a rotten mess – you’re leaving me as if I’m an uninteresting book 
Sometimes, I feel like a coward – I don’t mean to bother…

But, you’re like no other . . .

You’re like a mat – you’re constantly stepped on…
I’m like YOUR unwanted tool – 
I stepped on you and
Pushed your buttons
I accused you of being the fool 
When, in fact, I’m the fool by your side…
You’re drifting…pushing me aside…

I’m writing words of truth though – 
Expressing how much I’m fond of you 

I esteem your presence
Glowing with glee 
At times, you do say things without thinking 
I’m the god of distress – 
You’re leaving me breathless 
Cutting me down like I’m some decaying tree
You don’t see how much you make me…
Guilty for your crimes
Taking the blame about the hundredth time 

At times, I feel that I’m awkward when I’m around you

You’re like a backpack – you carry everyone’s weight…
You’re like a sponge – soaking in our stress
I’m a distraction to you – you’re wasting valuable time…but don’t hesitate 
I’m writing words of self-centered feelings – logic doesn’t exist…
But these feelings aren’t as bad as committing a crime
These feelings come and go – I just had to confess 
I didn’t mean to screw up your progress…

Hey, if you need a few sheets of paper to right on, 
Use me like a notebook instead…and write with all your might
It seems as if you read me…like a book that drags on and on 
Use me as your tool of relaxation… and read me all night  

When you wrote those words on my notebook…
It made my day…you’re such a delight 
Like reading a fascinating, classic book

Details | Concrete | |

A Writer Always Writing

As a writer always writing about my life everyday, I have to write this when I say that this is the only way that I know I know how to speak and write about "My" life before I "Die" in these reservation cold streets like many of my own people.
 I have hope for something better and bigger beyond our cold rez life streets here in money rich America.
 I'm trying not to be another victim or just another number and I'm especially not trying to become just another "Rest in Piece" or just another "In Loving Memory Of".
 I'm trying to leave something behind for my people but especially for my "yet to understand daugher", and this is the only way I know how to leave my very own one of a kind unique individual thoughts behind is through paper, but now what make's it even better now days for us is the "Internet", and my Internet crowd and across sea's internet crowd will listen to my words more than my "family" or "friends" ever will, and this is the only way I can truly be there for my family, my friends, my people and my daughter is in these words that I write, in this words in which I speak, and I have to be careful about what I write because it can help, but more often than not I can make them hurt, but I got to be careful about whom these words I write and speak about.
 I got to be more about helping than hurt as a True Lone Poet Speaking Life as "A Writer Always Writing".

Details | Free verse | |

If I might be

If you want me to express,
Then let me progress.

If you love me,
Give me a break,
'Cause thinking of it,
I may not stay...

If you love me,
Let me lead,
If you love me,
Let me go deep,
If you love me,
I may love you,
If you love me,
Just let me be.

What if you die?
What if I'm gone?
Do you know me?
We all have secrets...

If you are hurt,
I might burn,
If you cry,
I might cry,
If you win,
I might lose,
If you bleed,
I might bleed,
If you live,
I might live.

We all have sins,
We all have burdens...

We can hear,
We can see,
We can know,
We can think,
We can feel,
We can comprehend.

Just let me be.
Because life and time aren't eternal,
They aren't meant to last forever...

Just let me be...

Details | Rhyme | |

I Want To Be

I want to write to be inspirational.
I want to write so others won’t fear to be confrontational. 
I want you to read my works and say “Damn that was motivational!”
I want to be the one you seek after for guidance and truth.
I want you to grow confidence that is through the roof.
I want my words to brighten someone’s day,
I want my thoughts to drive one in a powerful way.
Is that bad of me to say?
Is it wrong I want to change a life?
Is it a crime I want to pull one away from strife?
Why can’t I pine after such a mission?
Because you and everyone else settle hurt and change by submission?
I want to change rather than conform.
How shall I accomplish this?
What works for you may not work for me.
I’ll just speak on what the world needs to see.
Men crying,
Girls objectifying,
Teens denying the need to conform,
Women waiting for marriage til a baby is born.
Men using fists rather than guns so mothers don’t have to mourn.
Young love, not young and drugged.
Respect for ourselves as women.
Men don’t just disrespect with their hands, but as well with their eyes.
And yet you want pants tight around your thighs.
If you put as much effort into school as you do looking cute, you would thrive.
Use your mind to maximize.
You wanted to be treated as an equal but you’re too busy finding ways to complain.
If you continue to let your success be compromised,
There’s no room to optimize.
I may not know you, but I know what you can do.
I know there’s nothing you can’t construe, 
Nothing except for you. 
You can be bigger than Ghandi, Oprah, or Muhammad Ali,
But what I find touching is up to me.
So I suppose I fail to influence and move,
Then again,
Isn’t that up to you?

Details | Verse | |

The Poetic Blues

I think I self-sabotage unknowingly 
because of fear
So my message goes unheard because I’m afraid to let the people hear
And end up drowning in the poetic blues
doubting my ability to write about the truth;

I dug deeper and deeper into myself trying to write a poem good enough to be free of judgment
Then I stepped out on faith and suddenly I was triumphant 
and my writing grew 
and I was loving it
I had finally passed the fear of speaking and caring about who the fu*c! was judging it

As I wait to be inspired for the next poem, 
I sit and think alone and drown in my sorrows
Listening to jazz, blues and a.m. radio
trying to find an excuse not to perform at the SLAM 
because again I can’t think of a damn thing to write…..
Drowning in poetic blues
Will this be the one that will be thrown away and never be used 

Or will this be the one that transcends the others  
and finally prove that poetry is blues and blues is poetry and hip hop and jazz and r&b, 
Poetry is music and the words dance around in my soul 
and I am free once they become spoken 
In the meantime the paper is where the words will rest 
until the silence is broken

Drowning in the sea of proper delivery 
My voice, my stance, my intensity
How will others interpret the words that I’ve chosen so diligently?
I wrap my soul around the possibility that none of the words I choose – 
will keep me from becoming deluged and trapped by the poetic blues

Somehow my heart refuses to accept that I don’t deserve to have my words heard 
and it takes over this whole process
No more time for shrinking and feeling less
I was born to  make my words manifest light
I am a gorgeous medium to the truth yeah that's right
I was sent here to give you a piece of good news
Remember that God is with you when you get
The poetic blues

Details | I do not know? | |

I Need You

I need you
To clutch me tight and
Wipe my tears away.
Telling me 
‘I know it looks bad but it’ll get better’.
I need hope
To come along and
Recuse me from 
The ceaseless
Pit I recurrently fall into.
I need someone
To be there when
I have my blade.
To say
‘Don’t damage your beauty’.

But you aren’t there.

You don’t listen;
Not to me.
I’m never there for you,
You completely
Shut me out.
As if I don’t care.
Like I’m not good enough.
Too pathetic; too worthless.
Not worth
The trouble.
So no one takes 
My blade from me.
And the angry lines slash
My arm
In every direction.
So there is a hopeless void
Inside of me, 
That grows bigger
Every day.
As you push me further away from you.
And I cry, 
Every night I cry myself
To sleep. Focusing on beaten
Broken hearts.
Because without you there is no reason to go on.

Details | Rhyme | |

The wise fool

Do I write to pass the time of day?
Do I write to receive accolade?

Is it from my need that I share with you?
Or is it because I care that I do what I do?

What keeps me trying?
What keeps me from dying?

Sometimes I wonder and come unglued.
Sometimes I fail and don't know what to do.

Am I wise or just a fool?
Is it vanity to profess to be Gods tool?

God said He would use the foolish things of the world to confound the wise.
God uses me and I am confounded so a wise fool am I.

Life on Purpose Live it before you lose it! ©2009

Details | Verse | |

Le Vacance Pretentieuse: Going Home

What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


When I was born
I let myself go with the journey
So that soon, I will understand
what is the true meaning of life.
I let myself grow
with the help of myself and people around me

there maybe a lot of trouble ahead,
but still, Life goes on..
I have God, family and friends
whom I can talk to when I am down and in difficulties.

I am ready to face some tasks and challenges.
I will work hard to survive 
I will gain some experiences
I will celebrate, and find more friends
I will intensify the enjoyment
create my own home, break rules
until i failed, lose, and cry.

Despite of that, i will still stand and learned from the best.
I will teach, write and shared my story
so that when the time comes that my soul leave my body,
I will be remembered
remembered by someone whom I know
and I don't even know...

Details | Free verse | |


We talked,
But I wasn't heard,
We walked,
But you scattered,
We built,
But you destroyed,
I thought,
But you acted,
We were determined,
But you exterminated...

You were blind,
I was sighted,
You were darkened,
I was lightened,
I was myself,
You weren't yourself...

I was lone,
No one cared.

I was ignored,
No one cared,
About my emotions...

Details | Sonnet | |

Life of Pleasure

In nineteen-ninety-nine I found haikus
and love of poetry was beginning
I admit none of this is front page news
I was writing more with love life thinning 

In nineteen-eighty-five I wrote something
I showed it to a friend and he liked it
instead of moving on I did nothing
two years later I knew writing was it

Yes my life has been a somewhat rough road
but I also know it can be much worse
and right now my life is in pleasant mode
I even ended up living with nurse

I never thought I would love writing this
now I know pleasure in life does exists

Details | Romanticism | |

The Beautiful Woman

Beautiful women stridding along
beach front properties
after the cruel april showers have rolled through
damaging and overflooding the hanging geraniums,
and the despise of jealous boys
rolling through hemlock, with trousers stained with sand,
they gaze like dogs looking at a juicy bone,
at the beautiful women, all of them walking hand and hand
singing songs of love, as hummingbirds and nightingales
soar high over their heads, keeping them all company,
all singing songs of love.

Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty
there you'll find me hinding, waiting
for my beautiful women that spare no glance,
but a quick of a hand I am allowed.
Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty
pick the red roses that bloom,
and leave the blue violets for the dead.

See the beautiful women, as the jealous boys huddle around me,
we gaze at their beauty and hold our breath,
till they start laughing.
They drink tea, read novels and talk about everything
that matters to naive girls' mind.
We listen and hear their secrets, some horrid
and some unbearable to listen too.

Go now, young boys and stride on
go to the beach front properties
in your straw hats and sandstained trousers
and call unto me, when the beautiful women
come once again striding along.

One beautiful woman I gaze upon
blonde hair, blue eyes
the sweetest of arian races
she wears her flannel, spring dress,
and cottonswab blouse,
she turns to me, hiding in the rose peaker bushes,
she looks at me and smiles.
I hide my emotion and I leave the garden of beauty,
to stride for another day.
To see the young, beautiful girls,
to see that one, that is not hard to spot
the one, like the first rose to bloom
she is not hard to spot.

One day, as I sit in the garden of beauty,
my courage will reign over me
and I shall present myself to her grace
and glorious beauty.
Go now my dear, go now, go to the garden of beauty,
and share your stories and drink your tea in peace;
Pick the ruby roses, but leave the blue violets for the dead,
for I am safe and I am just around the corner.

Details | Couplet | |

Life Sans Soup

Ah, life would surely be tasteless without a ladle of Soup each day!
Ah, the variety of delectable verse to choose from that bountiful buffet!

There is romantic verse, hot and spicy, to warm the cockles of the heart!
Inspirational and insightful poems from the poets' very souls to impart!

So delightful are the witty and humorous ditties that evoke a grin,
And so are the spiritual writes that warn us against the perils of sin!

We learn so much from the historical ballads written by our creative peers,
And read of the vicissitudes of life that bring the hardest of hearts to tears!

Others write of the brave deeds of soldiers that swell our breasts with pride.
Still, others write of the grandeur of God's Creation so great and wide!

'Tis so pleasing to read glowing tributes to others written from the soul!
We enjoy tales of cowboys, their saddle sores and favorite watering hole!

Poetry Soup offers splendid opportunities for budding poets and is first rate,
But the folks who ladle out the Soup to receptive minds are what make it great!

Ah, life would certainly not be complete without my Soup 'fix' each day!
Ah, the variety of delectable verse to choose from that bountiful buffet!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

Placed No. 3 in David Williams' "Life Without Soup" Contest - February 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet

Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.

Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.

Details | Free verse | |

We all fear

Why do we feel hatred?
We fear discontrol.

Why don't they get it?
Why don't they comprehend?
Why do we wait?
Why do we protect?
Why do we run?
We fear destiny.

Why does it hurt?
Why does it burn?
Why do we fight?
Why do they betray us?
We fear love,
We fear friendship.

Why do we keep?
Why is it deep?
We fear the abyss.

Why hell?
Why heaven?
Why purgatory?
We fear darkness,
We fear light.

Why do we live?
Why do we die?
Why do we suffer?
We fear death,
We fear life.

We all live,
We all die,
We all keep,
We all fight,
We all suffer,
We all cry,
We all love,
We all wait,
We all give,
We all receive,
We all trust,
We all wish,
We all dream,
We all remember,
We all feel...

We all vanish,
We all rise,
We can ignite.

We fear destruction.
We all expect,
We all regret,
We all lie.

Why hate?
Why do we create?
Why do you stare?
Why do they glare?
Why explore?
Why hope?
Why goodbye?
Why shine?

We all think,
We all see,
We all go,
We all deserve,
We all pass,
We all fear...

Details | Couplet | |

bucket list of wants

Tons more I wish to do, Much more I want to do, Before I am laid on the pyre facing the sky deep blue, Much more I wish to do………. I want to scale scary heights, I want to bungee jump without any fright. I want to travel rough terrains on bikes, I want to make it through forests and go on long hikes. I want to wander singing songs, I want to sing about how I mended my wrongs. I want to be creative again , I want to write about my joys thrills and pain. I want to pour my heart and passion in my works, I want to write verses & haikus without reactions knee jerks. I want to take many a calculated risks, I want to learn from the entire process without shortcuts or fancy tricks. I want to contribute for a good cause, I want to give without siphoning material or emotional dross. I want to untangle messed up issues, I want to wipe off tears with empathy laced tissues. I want to work on taboo subjects, I want to solve regression of y on x. I want to listen to my music loud, I want to pen my work in a place far from the madding crowd. I want to sow seeds and many a plant, I want to bask in sun rays that into my room slant. I want to drench in the rains, I want to make paper boats and sail them in the drains. I want to pick up from the ground and smell fresh wet earth, And then joyously have my speech filled with mirth. I want to boldly write about myself only for me, I want the world to know me & my mind as they will always see. I want to meet often the persons, who mean a lot to me, I want to be able to emote my passions and feelings of love and glee. I want to be happy about just any small thing, And all this I want to do before the last breath to my nostrils I bring. Facing the blue skies on my funeral pyre, I want to be on the best craft my soul can hire…. All this I want to do very soon, Before sets into me dreaded gloom. But the life I live is taking its toll, I am yet to get out of this oblivious hole. Time is just right to set aside, And take a ride Fulfill my wants and dreams that I nurtured in me to grow, And I had put away sheathed in a cocoon of time many years ago. Now I don’t want a moment long, And I will do what I want and sing my own song, And do what in me I let grow, Many, many years ago.
by: Sashi.Prabhu

Details | Free verse | |

Phoenix immortal

Mass of red and gold plumage
blood of supreme incessant immortality flows within
Only I alone can reign stronger
a fortiori
than the army of any man or beast
Symbolic of Christ, ressurection, afterlife
In death redeemed
consumed by fire
only to be born again of ashes
I will rise up again!

Injured from mortals wars 
I simply ameliorate and regenerate
I am fire and divinty
Continually watching the irresolute
ever changing, dynamic world around me
In despair I scrutinize and contemplate 
as all things moral 
are taken from me periodically and adinfinitum
lost ever and again

Armys of mortals have chased my blood for an age
in want of my immortality
Whilst they wrangle with continual want
and I would content for less
I have met no immortal contender
my glorification to you either unobtainable 
or a terrible curse
As a deity I serve this planet in all my supremacy
for I will foresee you all

Authors note

This piece was originally written as a two part collaborative effort with poet Kathleen C. 
Mannon, otherwise known by pen name kkatie55 . The prompt we were given to write to for 
contest was Mortal vs. Immortal in September of 2007, a month after I first started writing I 
believe. To begin with we both took our ideas and wrote individually then bringing our ideas 
together and changing slightly to fit from there… I tried to write so this would stand alone 
too, and have only just decided to bring it out to share for opinion. To see the write with the 
omitted verses written by the other poet, please feel free to go view at this link where each 
poet has initialled over their respective stanzas/verses.
Thankyou for your trouble in reading this explanation, but I do not wish to discredit its 
original intention nor take anything away from the other poet by placing this half here. I 
hope you shall be excited about reading it in full…

Details | Free verse | |

Like the frightened Jackrabbit, I run away from Love

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.....

Details | Verse | |

Constructive Criticism

Poetry is subjective and can be written how you like;
There are many different ways in which to write.

You can put it down as prose or create some double rows,
Triangles, squares etc. are alright.

I had feedback yesterday from a person with no name;
I guess most of you have had some too.

He said my poetry’s bad, archaic and awfully RANK;
But I don’t write for him, I write for some of you.

Constructive criticism is welcomed by us all
To help us each achieve a higher goal.

To knock for knockings sake is very bad indeed
It makes a normal person less than whole!

If you have something to say, make sure you give a rock
To the person whom you wish to criticise.

Give them helpful hints; you’ll find that the response
Will illuminate from their ever grateful eyes!

Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Thin

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
For kicks is why I do it now.
You tell me to love but I never knew how.
Our feet hitting pavement,
We spent the day in sunny California with sun kissed skin.
I’m learning to forget and how to fade scars,
And you let me let myself down so hard.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
And now I just do it for smiles,
We’ll never see flower girls stumbling down aisles.
I’d lose my head just before that chance,
But if you want we can still have a first dance.
Cause I think I say things that I don’t mean,
Once upon a time you meant the world to me.

Your paper-thin porcelain skin,
I know how to get right under it.
But I’m trying to refrain,
To make this not all end up in vain.
Maybe I can learn to love like some people do,
And you can learn to love yourself a little too.
Or it is in all fairness to let this go?
I guess we can try but then we’ll never know. 

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Breath in poetry

take me breath
to the freshest space

let me breathe
in freedom
in your deepest dive

escort me breath
with your tenderness

to kiss words
and carve verses

bring me breath
to my poetic  temples
there i can spell out
my heart’s vibrations

physical thoughts

no tightness 
no depressed


vocalized  tune
shared  the thoughts 
spread the love

leave me breath
leave me there
in my poetic temples

 ~ (c) Sukmawati komala ~ 
04 March 2013

Details | Villanelle | |

When The Sea Is Angry

When the sea is angry
 Waves, like knives, penetrate deeply
Secrets are revealed
Stingrays uncovered, at risk
 Burrow deep
When the sea is angry 
Shells buried for time unknown
 Surface in brilliant majesty
Secrets are revealed

The coral braces, mortality guaranteed
 Death and destruction inevitable
When the sea is angry

Sand scattered, settles again
 History buried, rears its head
Secrets are revealed

What is exposed, covered again
 Nothing left for man
When the sea is angry

An explosion born of fury
 Brings forth, then takes away again
When the sea is angry
Secrets are revealed

Details | Rhyme | |

Might these be

Might this be a wonder,
Might this be a sunder,
Might this be the blocker,
Might this be the warder,
Might there be a plunder,
Might it pass the border,
Might there be a dweller,
Might they be lodgers,
Should they be squatters,
Should they be trespassers...

Might they squander,
Might it scatter,
Might this be a sputter,
Might there be a clutter,
Moght there be to many clusters,
Might this be the controller
Mightit get power...?

Might these be handlers,
Might these be forcers,
Might these be the squashers,
Might these be the breakers,
Breaking some of the order...

Might this be a night,
Going to a wretched midnight,
Coming from a raging twilight,
Until these be ended, throughout nighttime,
Later waking from our bedtime,
Maybe dying to see the morning light,
Might this be happening tonight...?

Might there be a knight,
Might there be a fight,
Waiting for a shining might,
Coming from some rainbow's light,
coming slight from the nighttime,
With some waiting for their fly...

Might these fight the ghouls,
Might they get to their goal,
Might this vanish some ghosts,
Whom want all of our souls...

Might this be other things,
Might these be the lives of life,
With some asking, might these be I...?

Details | Lyric | |

The Paper In My Lap

Ashley Plotczyk

I write, inspired by my heart 
my thoughts only able to be expressed 
through my poems
The best time for me to write
is when I am emotional 
The paper serves as my relief 
It takes my struggle away from me
I love to write when no one else is around me
My thoughts only heard by me 
but read by others once I have mellowed down 
I enjoy sitting down
being only surrounded by silence
This is the time I take for myself
I take the pen and I write until I've found the right words
The only words that can soothe my uneasiness 
from my busy life and hectic mind 
My favorite place to write is anywhere I am able to write 
at that moment that I have the urge to release my feelings 
Like my busy life, I do not wait around to write
I write poetry everyday and I will not always be in the same places 
But my mind will always know how to trade places with the paper in my lap

Details | Free verse | |


Feeling cold,
Lost in desperation,
Remembering sadness,
Getting in frustration...

Trying to let go,
By few of those.

Losing comprehension,
Restrained from myself,
Being criticized,
Feeling hollowed.

Needing help,
To bring me,
Back to life...

Details | Rhyme | |


It's time to get back on that horse
And stop living in a covered shell
Your comfortable cocoon of protection
Has in reality been a literal hell
It may have been hard to notice
In the beginning stages anyway
Your life's positive energy was fading
A slow down spiral day after day

So, It's time to take chances again
Replace your defeats with happy grins
Today, let go of any guilt and hurt
Decide right now to be born again

Just take it one day at a time
Share what you know is still inside
There's a wise fountain deep within
A life giving force you need not hide
Ok, It's time to make a risky move
Lay your cards out for all to see
Let this thought be your daily muse
Be the Amy you were meant to be!


Sponsor: Amy Green
Contest: Be My Reason  (Winner: 1st Place!)

PS. I'm new to the Soup so not an old friend who knows you so well.  But you called me friend in your contest notes so I took a chance myself.  Hope my risk was on target. Best Wishes Amy!

Details | Couplet | |

His Final Letter

I now lie here alone, the wounded have joined the dead
Hours pass like years, my body, in shrapnel torn shreds

My duty, my love for my country, I can no longer give
Memories knowing I have lived, are now starting to sieve

Being so far away from my family, so far away from my home
Daylight like my life, allures me to a darkening roam

  To my love I write this letter, my wife my lovely Serena
  My words are all I have left, in this war torn theatre arena

  Remember when I moved in next door, you were first to say hello
  And the day when you asked me out, I was too scared to go

  I know we were only eleven but something clicked that day
  Into our teens we grew, knowing I'd marry you one day

  The day of our wedding, was the happiest day of my life
  For knowing my heart was true, when I asked you to be my wife

  Thank you for being who you are, and what you made me to be
  Never wanting me to enlist, to protect the land of the free

  I'm seeing places of our past, the greens, our courting grounds
  You playing with your lovely blonde hair, twirling it around

  Serena, my love, my friend, thank you for being my wife
  Tell our kids I love them dearly, thank you for being in my life

I'm growing ever weaker, as I write through redded stains
The darkening roam allures me, the light now starts to drain

~*~ Inspired by an image created by Serena Dunaway ~*~

Details | Lyric | |

Diamonds and Pearls Intro

Diamonds and Pearls Intro

He’s a black diamond standin’ on his throne
Platinum pyramids full of rubys and golds
He rolls royces in silks and riches
First class flights fly first…pacific
Atlantic oasis vacations chasin’ him…
From the states to the islands…they paradisin’ him
Crusin’ round the world in his yacht…no glitches
Shinin’ like baguettes on his wrist…past richness
Sun bathin’ over seas…meditatin’ steadily
In mentality of Garnet…pure clarity
Red emeralds green emeralds…purple tanzanite
It’s Taj Majal relica lookin’ in his eyes
Care for a glass of “The jewel of Pangaea”
Toast to the diamond in the rough of ideas
Higher than the pope…king of all kings
I introduce to you…your majesty… King Sesame

Written by: Aleasha Martin

Details | Haiku | |


youth`s luminous graffiti,
drawn on winter`s wall.

Details | Rhyme | |

My Words Flow From My Heart

" My Words Flow From My Heart "

I am a writer of poetry
black ink flows through my pen
I have been around this great big world
my words may make you grin.

I sometimes write on foreign soil
sailed across the oceans blue
I can make the birds and other things
sing romantic songs for you.

I can show you heavens gold
and touch the stars above
setting fires in souls of man
and write of Gods great love.

I want to erase these evil battles
help singers write some songs
give mankind back their hopes and dreams
and fix the things gone wrong.

I am a writer of poetry
the words just flow so free
I write for you and everyone
these words to you from me.

Heartfelt emotions can move the earth
all emptiness I want to fill
we poets that have lived and died
our words keep living still.

Lets all share our love today
and remove the crimes at night
through it all, through everything
man's future can be bright.

I am a writer of poetry
you all know me well my friends
I was there at your inception
and I will be there at the end.

With each step our whole life through
in all we say and all we do
whenever you have a need for me
I will be right there just for you.

My inner flame always burns 
when my writing starts
God blessed me with this special gift
my words flow from my heart…

Penned By MPK

Quote: Life Is Poetry In Motion, Great Poets Reflect Emotion.

Quote: The Best And Most Beautiful Thing In The World Can't Be Seen Or Touched.
It Must Be Felt With Your Heart...

Details | Free verse | |

Theatrical Life

No drama,
No scene,
No theater,
No life,
No death,

A hipnotic spell,
A happy comedy,
An impact of tragedy,
A depressive sorrow,
A constant paranoia,
A living psychology,
A passing psychiatry...

An endless beginning...

Details | Rhyme | |


Music is my escape
I sing along every second I can
It is the only place
Where people seem to understand

I sing at the top of my lungs,
Sing every word from my heart,
I eventually start to feel numb,
And soon I will fall apart.

I start crying and choke on my words,
I can no longer sing, too busy crying my eyes out.
My vision starts to blur,
That is true, without a doubt.

I’m crying because the music I listen to,
Seems to know my life story,
And it seems to know my feelings too,
These songs just scream out my whole back story.

I relive the moments the songs are talking about,
How they are all gone, or how they had hurt me. 
I just want to get out,
I wish that you could only see!

That I’m not that happy person anymore,
I’ve changed, but for the worst.
In my eyes, I only see closed doors,
And believe me, this isn’t the first.

If you saw me now, you’d hear my music,
See me shed my tears, and wipe my eyes, 
You’ll see the life drained out of me, as if there was a tick.
Oh, you’ll also get to hear me confess to all of my lies.

I try to forget everything and lose myself in the music,
Sing along to get any emotions out, 
That’s pretty much the basics,
What I’m all about. 

Details | Verse | |

Children Listen

This is a poem.
It's not abstract.
So if you just sit back and listen,
you'll understand
I'm going to say this poem twice,
so listen with your heart the first time
but listen with your heart again

Say good morning when someone says good morning to you
Speak when spoken to
Look a person in the eye and be confident even if you're not
and be willing to learn what you know not

Don't be so quick to speak out loud
and then cover your mouth in shame 
once you realize what just came out
It's too late - so think before you shout

Be accountable for your actions
Your character is defined by what you do when people aren't looking
because when they are
They see in your behavior all the doings of the heart
So be honest with yourself and do the right's not hard

Use life's resources
I know what it's like to be in dark places
going through trials - unhappy child
But learning and reading and growing is all relative to your future
So escape in a poem or good book
and don't let the enemy defeat you

Stay in touch with positive members of your family ties
Record yourself saying wonderful things about your life
Recite them daily...then write

Be the first to offer respect
Stay calm
give others a chance to talk
Be humble, but never nobody's fool
Don't allow others to mistreat you
Stand up for your rights and have a voice,
but do it with dignity and be tactful.

And girls...
Go ahead..wear your skinny jeans and your bangles
but accept other for their style, their view
see things from their angle

And fellas...
Pull those pants up..tuck those shirts in
and stop trying to be gangsta
If I can see your underwear thats unacceptable behavior 
and it's not okay
It's embarrasing to the struggle and it's a disgrace

It's time to move past the stereotypes of race
I know you got alot to face
but once you learn what your ancestors did to get you to this place,
It will seem like a walk in the park
and you'll be proud to have helped the case

Young people I tell you
if you follow these rules
You can change the world
and become a generation renewed

Details | Rhyme | |

Love, Patience, and Appreciation

Emotions emerge and happiness appears.
But how can we trust our feelings when they can just suddenly disappear?
They say when you find THAT one, you'll know it is true.
Now, I believe in that. How about you?
Yes, some feelings are temporary, but that's not always the case.
If you want that feeling to be permanent,
You gotta take a risk and chase.
Nobody got what they wanted by just standing still.
Some may not realize that doing nothing can kill.
True love doesn't come easy, but it is the worth the wait.
Don't forget that when and if you get it, to let it be something you appreciate.

Details | Ghazal | |

Iksiri zehir kendim

Ne dusle senle  gecti  yillar
Ne hikayeler  senle  yasadik birlikte
Bir gun yakin asik
Bir gun yabanci
Omur goctu boyle
Sanki  sen dusman bana
Hep birlikte yasanan  yillara
Kusmusun sevdasin boylesine
Soframdan  tat  almayan  sen
Yeni bir damak tadi  bulan ben
Sanki bilmem mi   gecmisimi 
Hic bitmeyen yanardag  ofkeni  
Ve siddetini yasadikca seni
Unuttum desem   unutsam desem
Sevgimle ortsem desem
Ayni bitmeyen ofke
Ne yapsam bilemem
Bu nasil hastalik  bende
Iksiri  zehir  kendim

Details | Verse | |

God is in All Things

God is in All Things

Apprehend {Understand/Perceive} That God is in all Things

For life cannot be without God within

Every single thing in life has God within

For God is the life force of all things

For God teaches us to 

See the Invisible,  Believe the Incredible, and Receive the Impossible

So Apprehend the fact that God is in all Things even you and I

LIFE is Living In Faith Ever

Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
copyright 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Behind the fence

The Boy wonders
gazing through the
Eyes of the metal fence
A question is raised
too far and too faint for me to hear
But it seems as he got the answer
the smile on his face tells me so
But the mothers face says something else
A different story
I write down every detail
of the curious child and the
I look up as I write few words down
And I look up to write more
But they're gone
Vanished behind the fence

Details | Rhyme | |

The Complex Brain


To love or not to love that is the question 
Do I tell him how I feel;
Do I tell him how he makes everything seem surreal? 
Or do I stand back? 
Close my mouth like I've been caught up in a trap
Or should I squeal?
You make life seem so unreal 
This is the way you make me feel
You make life so surreal until;
Reality hits me, that you are no longer mine 
And we had to say our goodbyes 
It was no longer our time to shine
But forever in my heart you remain
I try to keep my feelings domain,
But I cannot resist the urge 
Of how you make me feel.
You make life so unreal 
So surreal 
Just by how you make me feel 
Is this love 
Or is this tragedy
When will my fairly god mother come sprout
And talk to me what all my dreams are about?
Will she give me that glass slipper or will I have to ask her?
I am always scared that my life will end in disaster 
Holding on, not letting 
My hope begins to show.
You saw the vunuablitly  in my eyes,
You saw how easily I begin to cry 
So you took it further, and pretend as if it we're over 
Maybe some things are better for us than we think 
True love can make our hearts sink
And our souls grow bitter 
And our skin turns old
We were once
So brave and bold;
And now we don't even have a place to call home 

Details | Haiku | |

Inversed Conviction

Blinded conviction,

Inceptions with deceptions,

Inversed repentance.

Details | I do not know? | |

When I Write

In my life there are many things I crave.
Passion is one of the biggest cravings I have,
Because with passion comes many other cravings;
Love, Happiness, Friendship.
These are only the passion for emotions though.
Reading, Singing, Dancing.
Now these are passions for doing things..
But none of these passions compare to my passion for writing.

When I write everything else in my life goes blank.
My worries disappear.
My stress fade to nothing.
When I write my heart beats faster.
My mind races into a million ideas.
My soul flutters like a butterflies wings.

Writing may not be my only passion in life,
But it definitely is my only true passion.
My passion for writing goes beyond anything else in life.
If I could not write down my feelings, 
They would tear me apart from the inside out.
My world would come tumbling down.
Without writing my life would be nothing.

Details | ABC | |

Rythem in Life

Is it the rhythm in life
That we have issues and strife
The rhythm in life is a beat
A beat that puts you heart out in the street
The street is where it all goes down
It goes down to make you frown  
Some people laugh and play 
Other people sit and stay  
We all want to wear it 
And even compare it 
In my room sometime strain at the wall 
In my mind hear my conscience call
In life alone 
We don’t pick up the phone
And we lose the milestone 
The trust of the fact that 
We are not all that!

Details | I do not know? | |

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims

The Cowardice of the Taliban and The Silence of The Good Muslims.

When hot lead tears the flesh of a 14 year old girl,

ripping through her skull,
leaving her to bleed out and die,

does Allah not recoil in horror,

to see His child whimper,
to see His daughter cry.

Where is the indignation,

the anger that often boils over and manifests itself as flags and books and videos are burnt in mass orgies of hollow piety,

where are the voices that scream so loud,
that denounce all but their own creed,

where are the men, the impotent men who crave for nothing more than their fascist egos to feed,

where are the voices that so loudly proclaim,
enemies here and enemies there, always quick to condemn,

where are those voices when the enemy walks amongst them.

14 year old Malala Yousafzai was shot in cold blood,

her crime?

Advocating the rights of girls to an education.

Shame on you, men of bigotry and men of cowardice.

Shame on you, silent and mute accomplices in this carnage.

Shame on me,
for my inaction,

Shame on us all,
who proclaim lofty ideals,

yet are conspicuously silent,

when a 14 year old girl is shot in the head,

by fascist fundamentalist bigots who only worship bullets of hot lead.

Not in my name!

Not in my name,
shall the cowardly men rain down abuse,

Not in my name,
shall the bigoted men light the communalistic fuse,

Not in my name,
shall Malala Yousafzai be shot in the head,

left to bleed out,
while countless mothers' tears are shed,

not in my name,
shall religious murderers,
be left to wander free,

not in my name,
for I dare all believers to open their eyes,
to see!

To see,
the innocence of a 14 year old girl,
wanting only an education,

as the men of the cloth,
prance around with their pathetic self-righteous indignation.

I write this today,
the anger raging in my veins,

yet I fear,

that I shall write more of this,

unless we stand up and say 'no more',

I fear that I shall be writing this again,

until we all,

reclaim the true principles of humaneness,

until we silence the voices of bigotry,
of rage,
of fanatical insanity,

I fear I shall be writing this again,


until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,


Or else I shall have nothing,

but my unending shame.

(for Malala Yousafzai, 14 years old, in a critical condition after being shot in the head by the Pakistani Taliban, for her work as a young activist advocating the rights of girls to attend school)

Details | Free verse | |

Judgemental Fools

"Judge not lest ye be judged yourself" Matthew 7:1

That phrase is appropriate.
I am who I am.
I am WHAT I am. 
I make no bones about it.

I am a poet.
I write when I write.
I write what is in my head.
I write what is in my heart.
Some is fiction, some true.
Some of it is scenarios in my busy head.
Some is a dark. Some light.
Some perverse. Some nice.

I am a friend.
One who stands for what I believe. 
Even if my friend is wrong, I stay

I am a lover.
Not in a physical sense.
But a lover I am just the same.

I am a child of God.
Just because I am NOT
A bible thumping, card carrying
Member of a particular church
DOES NOT make me any less 
A daughter of God.
He knows my heart and 
He loves me just the same.

I am tired of people looking 
Down on me because I do 
NOT live their way!!!
This is my life!!!
God gave it to me.
I refuse to be beaten anymore.
I  refuse to have a husband
To take what is supposed to 
Be a act of love and have it
Whenever and however he likes 
It, no matter the hurt.
I refuse to be punching bag!
I refuse to be the wife that smiles
For all the world to see and pity
Because her husband is off screwing
The cute young woman that batted
Her darling eyelashes at him,

I have tattoos.
So what?
So what if I want to 
Date a younger man?
I am a good person.
Take me as I am.
I am me and for ALL 
Of you that judge, I am 
NOT committing any sins.
The only sin I committed
Was believing I am worthy.
I know I am not.
But just because I am
Unworthy does not mean
That I can not have a life.
I will answer to God
In Heaven when My 
Time comes. 
He is the only one 
EVER allowed to judge me.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged yourself" Matthew 7:1

Details | I do not know? | |


MUM ...
































Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Details | Free verse | |

The Sole of a Soul

I am writing this poem about you!

It’s not an easy thing to do
because I don’t know you.
But I know there are billions
of people on this planet.
Some will die while I write this and
while you read it others will be born.
Most have two arms,
two legs, and two eyes
one heart, one brain,
one mouth to speak with.
We are all the same.
People are people but
we don’t think alike.
Some of us love each other,
others hate everyone;
most do both unequally –
we choose what we think,
and we think differently.

 You are the perfect subject for a poem.
You are the same as everyone
and like no other before you;
unique to yourself, exclusive to none.
You elude the common
and illude the extraordinary.

You are a homophone for the human race.
Are we not all homophones of each other?
A complacence to complaisance,
and effect to an affect, a tear to a tear,
the sole of a soul.
A homophone like you may be too
large a subject for one poem,
too complicated, too complex.

 So, I will write about my cat instead,
a car ran over him yesterday
he is dead; and I have, in my fridge,
a half can of cat food in a plastic bag
useless and taking up space
and there is no homophone for that. 

Details | Free verse | |


"My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear"


My life unfolds,i deflect love, braver face is worn
for top surface, iron armour,beneath dwelling cashmere
pantomine performed,staging through all acts
inside crying attention for love,outside the mask.

Deep deep, amongst depths of insecurity
conversational flow lacking,o frustratingly yearn normality
pent up tensions,no outlet,i just cry
there`s more unfortunate people, decaying in this world.

Paul Beadnall for

Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~  

Contest Name Just Write 

Details | Sonnet | |

Sunday Sonnet

A Sunday morning without any sun
A usual day here in the North East
With my wife not here today is no fun
It has been so long since I’ve seen a priest

A few times in life I would frequent church
Believe the last time was two-thousand-two
Haven’t even been married in a church
I know my answers will come tomorrow

I don’t mean Monday a little later
Then again they may never come to me
Sometimes my life feels like a big crater
Something's missing do I need to be free?

I’m writing a sonnet on this Sunday
I find it helpful some would rather pray

Details | Sonnet | |

Some intimacy with my muse

Ever since I met that one being
I have been lost in a world of his own
So charming he is, so elevating
That by his side, to sorrow I am no more prone

Though I know not his form, or his name
Though I feel him not physically
He makes feel like I am a real dame
All sweet, pampered and so sexy

He allowed my dreams to come true
Writing and making my verses come alive
Writing and leaving behind my steps in black and blue
Why such is the reason why I took birth, I believe

O Muse, never, oh never do leave my side
Only your charms can fill up my emptiness with pride!

Details | Free verse | |

My Thing

Writing is my thing. My drug of choice. My bling bling.
I fall in love with the similies and mentions of passion while wrapping my body in 
Creating complicated rhythms and making them simples as instances
Every line a differenet emphasis
Commas, explinations and periods
Sometimes rhyming and sometimes not
Stopping to puff so my thoughts can lock
Feeding hungry souls starved from starvation
Creating new creations
Making people feel the sensation as I build up to mind elevation

The quest for knowledge is not a game
Spoken movements teach about the pain
I write to ease the pain
Rhythms run deep

Deep underneath clouded visions of unspoken truth lies a message
a message...a message that should be taught accurately to the youth
About the struggle of a people that was misued
abused, refused, confused, raped, beaten down
portrayed as clowns, coons, niggers, fools
Modern day niggas and goons
Wake up!! Did you hear the news?
You are responsible for you!
Imagine how it would be tho
If we were uninterrupted and brought overseas yo
Uprooted from a line of royalty kings and queens
Africa unite is all we'd sing
Rhythms run deeper into the seams of my being

I write to ease the pain of the oppressed
I write to celebrate their success
I write to educate the rest
The message..The message..The message is very clear
No time time to waste
The time is NOW
It's here!

Details | Couplet | |

Flying With The Birds

If I were to believe in you, would you believe in me?
If everything that I promised you actually came to be

If I were a beautiful rainbow, a reflection in the sky
Formed by the rays of light as your tears you cried

Sweetheart I am just a simple man with a complex plight
My blessing is you’re here with me, as this quest I fight

Sweetheart you know I’m a warrior, though I live like a ghost
I fight and write living my plight, inside the belly of the host

From shore to shore, a forever war, that will never end
Just today I got the word the host has taken another friend

Another soul another goal of course another wasted life
God I am a lucky man to have become one with my wife

Pains insane it shreds my brain and tears my heart into
I’m left here asking myself, “Was there anything I could do”

I have to write a eulogy though I just don’t know what to say
Here is a soul, another hole, for someone who lost his way 

Sobriety is really great but at times it is truly rather hard
You watch them take another friend and plant him in the yard

Another smoke, another joke another party has reached its end
Here I sit in a spiritual pit feeling totally lost about my friend

I hope someday someone reads what I say, takes another course
Pass on doing that shot, love it or not, death upon the black tar horse

So I shall write my Eulogy falling to pieces about my friend
Who made fun of the man I turned out to be, until the very end

But that’s ok it was just his way, right up until the day he died
The one true light shinning bright, lives inside of you and I

So will all of you join with me let your spirits pen my words
About a beautiful soul, who found his goal, flying with the birds

Very few people in this life that I love enough to let make fun
of the changes I made in my life. Addiction (The Host) took 6
friends in 2007, 5 in 2008 and this is the first in 2009. He didn't
overdose he was shot a couple of days ago in Chico, Ca during
a home invasion robbery over his heroin debt. I used to always
pay his debts when it reached this point with bags of Meth. This
time I couldn't go there for him and now he is dead. This is my
life, my gift and my curse. God Bless you all, mj

Details | Free verse | |


What’s big to me may be small for you
But when you hurt I hurt too
So many different phases I’ve been through
Withdrawal & self-indulgence just to name a few
I dodge sleep to note this nonsense to both me and you
My desperate attempt at understanding 
Has only led to more questions
I remember when medication numbed me well enough to stay quiet
A zombie!
All last night I cried and cried
You slept while I died all the more inside
I don’t have all the answers
One thing I know is
Dreaming and fantasizing 
In these worlds I find solace 
Seeing and realizing
It hurts…
It hurts…
People have been so unfair –
But then again 
What is fair?
So many questions…
Once upon a time,
I’ve put down my pen 
Followed doctors and drugs
Their drugs, my drugs
Just stop judging me and fix me!
I’ve put down the drugs
Picked up a pen
And this is the reason other people say I’m doing well?
What’s real?
I can’t tell
Is it what you tell me or what I tell me?
Drugs have concealed me
Silenced me…
Taught me that I don’t have to feel just see
And shake my head
Now I can both feel 
Shake my head
I can verbalize 
But I’d rather not talk just write
I can write and write just to get it out on paper
It’s still in my mind
I’m not fixed
Still I cry and cry
While you sleep
So which am I supposed to choose?
Solace or the truth?

Details | I do not know? | |


How do you expect me to be less of a pessimist and more of an optimist. When you’re pessimistic about my optimism.

Details | Bio | |


Make writing as a habit and addiction
Not just a hobby
Indeed you can gather more stories of your life 
By simply writing it every day
When time passes by 
Your stories would become something valuable 
Than pieces of diamond
Remember everything comes from nothing 
That later became something. 
So don’t forget to write – 
Don’t forget to write some today!

Saturday, 16 March 2013, 8:49AM
Sandakan Nature City, Sabah, Malaysia
The poem is a reminder to us that writing everyday is important
Let Us All Save Peace. Ilyimy. Layag Sug!

Details | Rhyme | |


[ In the early 1890's, Henry Lawson tramped to Hungerford  which inspired him to 
write a short story on his reflections.  In the 1980's I was part of a team 
connecting Hungerford   to the electricity grid and write the following by way of 
You've tramped the hungry road from Bourke 
Up North to border gate, 
A country lad in want of work 
With Gordon your old mate. 
Then camped the night in Hungerford 
Beside the old Paroo. 
I sensed that you were not impressed, 
You're not among the few. 
I had a chance to work there once 
To build a power line, 
And saw myself what you had seen, 
The privilege was mine. 
The rabbits are still there you know, 
On both sides of the fence; 
Though myxo slowed them down a bit, 
They're now not quite as dense. 
Two pubs have been reduced to one 
Still on the Queensland side. 
The store is but an old shell now, 
Where cats and mice abide. 
That hungry old dirt road you tramped 
 Now runs right through the town; 
From New South Wales to Queensland, mate, 
Folk travel up and down. 

Town water has not changed since then, 
'Tis red as mother earth, 
And though folks there are used to it, 
I gave a bath wide berth. 
Post Office building stands there too, 
But not the New South side, 
While local law enforcers still 
In Queensland do reside. 
I never met old Clancy mate, 
Though met a jackaroo; 
When asked of work conditions there 
He'd Clancy's point of view. 
The houses are all much the same, 
I guess they'll never grow, 
But now they've got the power there,  
One really doesn't know. 
Your sentiment was right my friend 
On how some toughed it out, 
Those men who travelled 'cross this land, 
Before towns came about. 
No doubt someone in future years 
Will pass this way again, 
Who may reflect on what we saw, 
And write down some refrain. 

Details | Rhyme | |

The Girl Who Could Never Understand

There was a girl so free and young;
untouched by the darkness she was yet to become.
Not yet grown up but wishing she would.
She didn’t realise it would make her numb

There was a girl who dreamed of the future,
who wished of being smart, pretty and free.
She told herself it take years to understand,
When it actually only took three.

There was a girl who became obsessed
with things such as looks and grades.
Every time she ‘messed up’ her confidence slipped:
until someone told her about a blade

There was a girl who was once so innocent,
never before heard of self-harm,
but suddenly she knew how to cope!
All she had to do was cut her arm.

There was a girl who was dead inside-
Not understanding the darkness she had become.
She grew up too fast just like she wished:
Now she’s dead because she felt too numb.

Details | Free verse | |

One Heart, One Pen (Why I Write)

People ask me a lot why do I write
Well...Pain is Lyrics am I right
It constricts my heart ever so tight
I try to break the hold with all my might
But the pain is 2 strong
In this mindframe I belong
No friends in my life I remain alone
I was born the same as I will forever be gone
Beginning in my preteens I felt constant oppostion
Looking in the mirror every morning I saw no recognition
Tempted to have my head in the clouds
Which way do I go, drugs or alcohol 
Will it make my conscience proud
It will feel good I told myself, but I saw doubt
I need an outlet, I need a way out
So after the death of my bestfriend
Going on the path to destruction had to end
So in 8th grade english Mrs. Mackowich told us to write a couplet
I felt the urge to "up it"
But I had too much to say
My poetic testimony took the pain away
October 3 2004 was my first write dedicated to my friend's memory
I had my class feeling sympathy, but why do I feel like I'm the enemy
That one death was the weapon to tackle my self-doubt
My depressing
Me stressing
Self-hate in my heart thrived
My new drug has finally arrived!
So I write everyday, every way
To get away mind-wise
My emotions are disguised
The pen will be my pipe
The ink is my nicotione
Instead of putting it to my lips
I put it to the page
How could I think so deeply at such a young age
I can't stop its addicting
My thoughts are forever flipping
And they ask me why I write
It's obvious I feel spite
After reading people assume I want to be a rapper
Such dogmatic fools why would I participate in such "crapper"
It doesn't matter If I'm black
I'm human and that's that
Rappers write from the mind
I write from the heart
Straight from the middle like a game of darts
I'm the Robert Frost of rap
The Jay-Z of poetry
The Edgar Allen Poe of lyrics
The Kanye West of english
All embodied in one to the end
All I need is One Heart 
All I need is One Pen

If you can't tell that I'm the most unique Afican American of my age you are without 
perspective. If you are not rich and powerful people feel as if what you say is meaningless.I 
speak to people of all corners of humanity with my feelings and thoughts.While my 
bestfriends were partying and doing crime when i was growing up in my teen years, I was in 
my room reading harry potter, playing Playstation, and writing poetry.This is my life and 
talent. The legacy I chose to imprint. This is my ode to poetry.

Details | Lyric | |

Good Change Coming

Written October 7, 2012

My soul burns inside
And it comes comes out to hide
When its so shocked to hear
That the darkness is here

Would you believe in the words that I say
Even if they aren't diamonds and pearls
With a paper in front and a pen in my hand
I just want to change the world

Is it too much to ask
Too abstract to grasp
This idea that's been running
I promise there's good change coming

With a bullet and a gun
You'll get any man to run
But it takes diplomacy
To get a real man to see

Would you believe in the words that I say
Even if they aren't diamonds and pearls
With a paper in front and a pen in my hand
I could really change the world

Is it too hard to be
The man I want to see
When I look in the mirror
Lord I pray it was clearer

With a permanent marker
I color in darker
The world that I see
Ain't what it should be

Would you believe in the words that I say
Even if they aren't diamonds and pearls
With a paper in front and a pen in my hand
I am going to change the world

Details | Couplet | |

new begining

By Sashi. Prabhu (ZEAUOXIAN)
I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more. I have cheated my fears alright, I have broken up with my doubts uptight. I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more. I got engaged to my faith last night, I married my dreams at the sight of first light. I am not afraid to get up today, I am not afraid to wake up to another day today, I am not afraid to open my eyes and see today, I am not afraid to climb out of bed today. I am ready to walk into the gardens in the heavy rains, I am ready to open my nose and smell of mud from wet terrain I am ready to face the world all alone, I am ready to do anything to walk up the stepping stone. I am ready to say anything to anyone, I am ready to talk to anyone under the sun. I am ready to yell from mountain tops, I am ready to dive from ravine drops. I am ready to walk for a cause, I am ready to run to protect environmental laws. I am ready to touch taboo objects & subjects I am ready to work on regressions of y on x I am ready to understand tangled issues, I am ready to wipe all tears with tissues. I am ready to taste tropical fruits, I am ready to chop, boil and eat bamboo shoots I am ready to jump out from a moving truck, I am ready to pull my allies from loads of muck. I am ready to be creative again, I am ready to write and spill out my joys and pain. I am ready to sing and hear my own songs, I am ready to correct my own wrongs. I am ready to throw a stone afar, I am ready to play my own music for all with the door ajar. I am ready to write notes about me, I am ready to put them up for all to see. I am ready to whistle whilst I walk down the alley, I am ready to bring out tunes and them create verbally I am not afraid any more, I am not afraid any more.

Details | ABC | |


It hits me like a wave, churning deep within my gut.
Holding my breath as the situation sinks in.
(Climbing a stairway to heaven)
People staring, eyes peering, thinking of a way to get out
(drifting up in a cloud of smoke)
Pale face reddens as heartbeat quickens
(Flying away on invisible wings)
Running, fleeing, where can I go?
(End of the rainbow)
Dirt swallows me up, blanking my mind
(Calm, peaceful, no more worries)
Frozen in awkwardness, palm to my forehead
Stuck in reality.

Details | Haiku | |

when the bell rings

when the bell rings
shake hands 
and come out writing

Details | I do not know? | |

One Pen

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one.

To write the pain a deff 
man can't hear speak what a blind can't see. Uncover the truth and hide the lies we tells as a society. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one. 

Get the word out to the 
ghetto that there is a 
better place. We don't 
have to reach heaven 
to see it. We killing our
brothers and sisters over 
colors don't make sense. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one. 

To tell my brothers behind bars a strong body has no comparsion to a weak mind. Do time don't let time do you.

All i need is one pen, one piece of a paper just one.

Send all the women with children a happy day mothers day letter, even if it aint may. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one.

One shot of that liquor thats infecting my liver but only way ill spill out all these words. Sober thoughts i could only speak intoxicated. One doctor for a liver-transplate if this one shall fail on me. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one. 

One chance to reach for the stars and pull one down. Show the world no task is impossible to accomplish. Stay motivated stay determined no telling what you can achieve. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one.

One voice one prayer to ask God to forgive you and i for our sins. See none of us is perfect and this world aint either. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one. 

One pen to bleed on that one piece of paper just one so one soul can finally be let free. show others many ways you paint without a brush. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one.

To read my motivational speech to the men and women serving our country. May i give them strenght to come back home to their love ones.

all I need is one pen, one piece of paper just one.

One man hating, one woman loving me. One whip no chains im so free. 

All i need is one pen, one piece of paper just one. 

Success wouldn't mean much if i couldn't write about it.

Nothing in this world is more important than one pen one piece of paper. thats all i need just one.

Details | Lyric | |

Thoughts That Think

Was thinking long and hard about giving up writing.
Convinced myself that I'm a quitter and there's no sense in fighting
To keep the only thing that kept me far from the edge
But I can't pretend.
Pretend that it isn't my Fortress of Solitude 
That's honoured me with solemn servitude.
That it hasn't helped put me to rest, thought and mind,
By accepting the past on paper and keeping it close behind. 

I was thinking logically and analytically 
Because it seems to be the only thing I'm good at. 
Thinking about everything I've seen and everyone I've fought to keep,
They're all gone now, only to be found in memories. 
They say Poets and Artists are the architects of Heaven
And only they know it's the hardest when no one buys what they're selling. 
No one wants to listen and no one wants to see 
Because everyone's so sure of what you're supposed to be. 

But what are you supposed to do when you've dedicated your life to understanding?
When you can empathize with your brother, but your own sight you can't stand it. 
When you feel that there's a missing piece and so the wholes hurting.
Swim out long past the reef and any safety that you keep to do some soul searching.
Days and months fighting fears, love and tears, digging the hard soil.
Only to find that missing piece you desperately seek is hidden deep beneath. 
When you've found the straw that broke the Camels back
Only to find there's a million more underneath.

What are you supposed to do when you follow the chains
Long past the plains in hopes to break the link.
Kill the ties that bind and have held you for so long,
Only to find there is no ball, you were free all along.
And in your days of darkness with no life to sip or sup
All the hands around your back were never meant to keep you up
And all of those who have kept you down will fight to keep you dancing to their beat.
Any impenetrable man once stabbed in the heart, will crumble with defeat.

Details | Rhyme | |

Will You Travel With Me To Heaven PART TWO

A God who is not a human
Not a soul or created thing
A God who always hears and sees
Yet we cannot hear or see Him

A God who tests us, hence we cannot
See Him, a God who never lies
A God without human weakness
-Not Born- A God who does not die

A God who made us with a purpose
To worship Him, worship Him alone
A God who wants us to be Muslims
And Heaven our Eternal Home

By worshiping only One God
And following God's Rules and Laws
Allah is He. God is Allah.
Allah: The God who has no flaws

Allah is not the God of Arabs
Not all Arabs believe in Him
Allah is the God of all of us
Who made everyone and everything

If you ask 'why the name Allah? '
I ask you, why's your name your name?
Imagine your teacher says 'I'm Jane'
If you disbelieve you could be 'lame'

She says, 'Class, I'm Jane; I'm your teacher'
You say, 'I don't want a teacher 'Jane''
Your teacher says, 'my name is Jane'
You say, 'Don't teach, unless your name is changed'

If one has done that, they have rebelled
They're arrogant; they want attention
If you're a troublesome student
Then all you get is detention

So if Allah says that He is God,
That Allah is God, and God Allah
Then believe in God, worship Allah
To avoid Hell and its boiling lava

Allah is One, the Only True God
Allah created you and I
Allah has no children nor wife
Allah needs no bodyguard nor spy

Allah is One, God is Just One
I said 'One God', not 'God in Three'
One God who rules the whole universe
'More than many gods'? How can that be?

If there were many gods as some claim
The whole world would be upside down
False gods would vie with one another
As kings would fight for the same crown

God has no son. God has no daughter.
God has no wife, God did not marry
God is too Powerful and Perfect
God does not weaken nor get lonely

God is Allah, Allah the True God
If you now believe, please testify
That there is no god but Allah
And God was never crucified

Once you have recognized Allah
Remember that Allah has Rules
Rules that must be followed by all
All of God's servants, including you

God commanded us to pray to Him
To Pray to Him each day and each night
To worship Him our Creator Allah
Is the reason why God gave us life


Details | Free verse | |

Blessed Assurance

Blessed assurance
There's more to life than this ole' world
He is holding me
Faith in what I can't see

Left with my walls tumbling down
Calloused and bruised
My heart lay on the ground
Try as I will,
try as I might
I will climb one mountain
And through faith tell the other to MOVE!

I could be upset that things are not what I want them to be
But I know the blessed assurance
And Jesus is holding me

Lord, give me the words to write to speak
for mine are so clumsy
My heart is soft and open wide
for I found love for the very first time

The chains that held me before
They don't hold me anymore

One eve my walls came tumbling down
All my deceit lay in front of me
My face to the ground
but  this sin could not hold me
Through Christ is freedom

Oh, blessed assurance
There's more to life than this ole' world
He is holding me
My heart soft and opened wide
Yes, I found true love for the very first time

The chains that held me before
Well, no, they can't hold me anymore
Lord, give me the words to write and speak
for mine are so clumsy
Left with life so new and bright
steppin in His light
Try as I will,
try as I might
I will climb one mountain
And through faith tell the other to MOVE!

With the blessed assurance
Jesus is holding me
Faith in what can't be seen

Details | Haiku | |

My Books

You can call me whatever you want,
but it will not affect me in the least. When I
read books I picture myself as the main 
character, like I am really in the story, and
then my books are written in a different 
way many people do not understand. Many people
have told me that I cannot write good stories
or poems, and some people say they love my
writing; that they love my creativity, but do you
see I don't believe I write that good. If there were
no books in the world, I would go absolutly 
crazy! I love books with a cover and paper,
and not those kindle things. I will never own one of 
those things, I need my books, I need my libraies!
Briana Lynn Palmer
~Dustin's Wife~

Details | Free verse | |


Those around me Inspire me
My peers support me
Inspire me
To write this poetry
Love, Drugs, Funny
Or just random
It all comes from my heart
But without encouragement
From those around me
My poetry would be worthless
Every time i write a poem
I could write a million dollar masterpiece
But without inspiration
Encouragement, Support
From those around me
I'll be writing nothing
But wasteful work
Worth only enough
To buy me a skittle
That's why I rely on Whats around me
To get the wheel to turn

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Emotional Hole

I did not find myself to be so important
So I ask my friends do I seem distant?
When I ask the question I had received an answer, Yes
So I think that made it clear that I had been not the best
I am a friend of a friend that talks so many things
That friend talks to much it is insane and insanity it brings
I do care, about my friends they are all good people
They tend to stand on their high steeple 
Today I find myself not so aware
Disbanding my fear of regret and care
Walking many different paths I see that I have found holes
It is the path that people choose to use to fuel their rage with coals
Coals are partially burnt wood or fossils a piece of fuel
It is the source of burden and fire a rage of emotions that stands cruel
It can be warm and caring, but it also can be baring
I just start to feel so low, below the ground I keep on staring
I reach for my friends so many times I feel so ignorant at times
Just once I feel I should not rely on them when feeling I can not find 
I dig my hole deeper and I can not climb out
For some reason I am just full of doubt
I care about so many things and what I have is confusion
One person should be all I should think about to get out of that illusion
My battle in my heart and mind is not at all so pleasant
I feel so alone in an island that is shaped like a crescent
My emotions is like coinciding with a diameter of the semicircle
Not a full emotion that is complete like a circle
My feelings is circular full of incomplete thoughts, so much deeper
I feel it will wake up my evil half a evil soul that is a sleeper
What question should I ask myself? to believe that I am not so alone
As I feel like a person who is deteriorating to the bone
I ask my friends the same question once again
I figure I should do it, to know what kind of feelings I should end
So many thoughts that come out of my feeling
I feel like my friends take, an emotional trauma of stealing
They ask me questions and I answer theirs
But when I need mine answered I feel burning inside like a flare
Are they even friends when they do not take me serious in anyway
Just put me in my hole cause I feel nothing in their will be getting in my way
It's just so simple to answer someones problem
I answer friends with beauty of a rose, but when they answer mine I get the stem
I know the stem is very important in life, with out it how can a rose be a rose
With a hole to put the root and stem in how can it grow
The words we speak I guess is like all natural things we reap and sow

Details | ABC | |

An Angel in Danger

Life's gifts is of all the good and 
the bad 
Never knowing what may arise 
An angel is everlasting hope we 
long to have and to hold 
We have watched you through 
just like a hawk 
We will never give up on you 
we know you are strong 
Who the angels will pull you 
through somehow 
Where there is a will there's a 
And with god looking over us 
well know we will be safe
Even tho this deadly danger of 
a disease took you over
We know in our hearts that 
steady burns yull be ok 
As a fighter like Athena (a 
warriors guide)you will grow 
Even now we see your alot 
Must be these guardians of 
heaven looking over you 
Feeling good with this is all you 
may need 
This danger none should live 
But as long as there is Angels 
up above its all you will ever 
need to pull through 
A tragic time. 
- by Brian O'Toole 
Caregiver of a cancer patient 
and friend 

Details | Quatrain | |

Written in Immortality

I open my mouth and no words come out There seems to be amazement written here She has stunned me yet again with her looks I know in her heart she surely does care She speaks to me with such love towards me I could not say even a single word I’m in awe with her beauty, with her soul I approach her, give her a hug forward She knows me, sees what I wanted to say And whispers into my ear, such sweetness I move in for the kill, and grab her warmth She sighs heavy, now she wants my weakness As one we fly to the bed, getting nude And fireworks expressed themselves tonight She sure became the most beautiful girl Exhausted we lay holding very tight I now find my words and I write them down Poetry flows like magic in the air Passion is formulated in each line I show love to her by my write I share And now we are unified through these words Unbroken bond of immortality Soothing are the lines within my poem Forever our love written, endlessly
Russell Sivey Entered into Poet Destroyer A's "Make me smile ----old/new poems" contest 3/7/2013

Details | Free verse | |

My Mask

It hurts all the time
This pain in me never stops
I want to cry for you
I want to scream for you
I want to beg for you
I want you to be here
This cant be fair
This cant be real

But I smile and I laugh
I get up every morning to go to work
Throw on a happy face and make some jokes
I come home and enjoy my day
I have fun
And I continue on
But I’m so hurt
I’m so lost

Seeing you in there killed me
I could never get the phone call out my head
The screams from my mom
The walk up there to see if it was true
But most of all I wont forget you
In the casket
Touching your hand
You were so cold
You didn’t belong there
Seeing you go into the ground
Seeing them fall apart
Feeling my heart break into pieces
When all I could do is scream
I will never forget that day

And every time I smile I want to cry
Every time I laugh I want to cry
Every time I think I want to cry
Every breath I take takes a little bit out of me
Because I want to cry

I want this to not be real
I want to had spend more time with you
I want to hug you
Laugh with you 
Tell you I love you
That I was always there
That I am still always here

I am so broken
But I continue on with life

Because God took you and not me
He wanted me here for a reason
So ill continue on for
I will laugh
And smile
And pretend
Anything to make it to the end
To see you

I miss you just isn’t enough
It doesn’t mean enough

What heals a broken heart?
Time they say

But time wont bring you back
So my heart stays broken
As I pretend to smile

I miss you
I miss you
I miss you

As I’m falling apart

My mask then goes on

RIP Bebo... 17 was to young

Details | Lay | |

A Lesson Learned

We tend to write when things are on our mind.
We hope and pray that in time we'll find,
Our hope of dreams and dream of hopes.
Without the Lord in our lives, it's continually a joke.
I find myself confused at times,
Maybe that's why I write these rhymes!
The things I know, and the things I've felt,
Let me know that I can't do this all by myself!!
The pot tends to call the kettle black.
When you're human like me, how can you do that?
They say that everything happens for a reason.
It really doesn't matter the time, date, month, or season.
I love my man and I know that he loves me.
Throughout time we will see how things truly be!
I've made my mistakes and will try not to make them again.
Only with the Lord in my life I know that I will definitely win.
We tend to do things that we don't have to.
Why is that? I don't have a clue.
I love you in more ways than you will ever know.
I pray that in time our love will continue to grow.
You are an Angel in my eyes.
Don't hurt me in a way that you know I will despise.
Some people say that love is love, and hate is hate.
Nothing can surpass love for it is too great.
People live and people die,
When they are born you're suppose to cry.
We rejoice when there is no more pain,
Then the Lord showers us with the sweetness of rain!!!

Details | ekphrasis | |

The Deposition by Michelangelo

The Deposition by Michelangelo

He could not stop once he began the work
Of shaping a most painful scene in stone
For the whole world to see and remember
Hoping they will feel what he felt so strong
Jesus, His life offered as sacrifice
Sorrow filled eyes of those who had been there
Haunting dreams invading his sleep at night
Feeling deep inside, the pain and despair
And he knew it had become a mission 
To bring to life in marble, his vision.

It must have been a Friday quite chilly
For the bodies of those carrying Him
Are covered from head to toe heavily
Yet just pieces of clothes are seen on Him
Perhaps awkwardly placed around in haste
By Mary Magdalene or His mother
Agony written all over her face.
Yet clearly perceived upon their features
 I see traces of their love for Jesus
Not escaping those of Nicodemus.

Nicodemus, a man who knew the Lord
Devastated by the horror he’d seen.
Michelangelo worked the marble long
Shaping the pain stricken face of his dreams
Taking a step back, had carved his own face
Had seen himself help the crying women
Take down Jesus’ heavy and lifeless frame.
Dropped his tool, overcome with emotion
Unable to continue, kneeled down to pray
Left it unfinished; “The Deposition”.

By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 12.14.09

Note: This is the first time I write in the Ekphrasis form, so I am not sure I have done this 
right, but I did want to challenge myself to write. Please feel free to critique and make 
suggestions where it needs improvement. 
Also, the third verse, line 5 and 6 came from my imagination. I do not know if the face of 
Nicodemus is Michelangelo's, but somehow I felt compelled to write that.
Thank you for reading, Caroline.

Details | Haiku | |


I found the New Year weak
Laden cumberland and amber
Weeping snow from the spicy sweet shrubs
Beg as if it is a teen to absent spring 
To emerge somewhere with its perfect 
Beauty delight;

But when I sought to it for you,
Ah the New Year grows in front of my eyes 
Like those plum-blossoms from the old garden!

PS: To all my colleagues from Poetry Soup: Have you a great beginning year!  

Details | Rhyme | |

The Gifted Talent

“THE GIFT” controls my mind
which controls my ways of thinking
“outside of the box”…
Literally speaking my conscious lends my body
“a helping hand”
Success It demands so introducing talent
Showing you my writer’s hand
I “wrote off” the word recession
from political depression…
You had me for a second….L…O…L!
I’m not fallin’ off that bridge
That’s for second hand believers
Achievement lives through-out
My spirits of my mind, body, and soul…
Inspiring the inspiring
“THE GIFT” continues to control.

By: Aleasha Martin

Details | I do not know? | |


MUM ...
































Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Details | Free verse | |

Sixty Year Old Choice

"You've got six months, nine at the most.
If you opt for chemo, we could stretch it some.
Maybe a couple of years, 
but first six months of serious treatments."

When he said nine months
I thought that's the normal prenatal life
So I have possibly a pregnancy left.
Decisions, Decisions, Decisions

Let's see two years minus six months 
minus maybe some more for recovery from chemo.
Or nine months of wondering,
could this be the day?

My neighbor was sick as a dog for most treatments.
She couldn't eat; she couldn't sleep.
Just a forever burning sensation, dry, lifeless, pain

My cousin said his was not so bad, but
then he died only two months afterward,and
they had said he might live five years.

My last nine months, what will I do?
I will get ready to die - prepare to enter a new life.
Wait a minute ...
I am doing that already ever since
I decided to put my trust in God's Son.
My eternal life began at that moment sixty years ago.

I will tell everybody I know how good God is.
But I have cancer; is cancer good?
I look at it this way. 
Cancer is a chapter -
the last nine months of my life on earth.
It defines me and with
God's help I can deal with it - 
without chemo.
He has a plan and cancer is 
part and parcel of it.

The rest is just guesswork.

Details | Haiku | |

What Would You Do

What would you do if you knew this was my last day to live??
Would you try and save or let me go?
Would you even care for my soul?
What would you do if I was a fallen angel?
Would you still recognize me?
Would you talk to me or ignore me?
What would you do if I died?
Would you have a funeral for me, so all my friends & family could come?
Would you cry or even mourn a 'lil bit?
Would you care that I was gone, or would be happy?
What would you do if I was a ghost?
Would you feel me right beside you, guarding you, Watching over you, protecting you?
Would you see me?
Tell me would you walk all over me, or maybe even walk through me, as if I weren't there?
What would you do if I was a demon?
Would you still love me then?
Would you still care and forgive me?
Would you just say "You are stupid, and I hate you?"
What would you do if I were and angel?
Would you love me more, or would you love me less?
Would you feel me touch you, and comfort you when you need someone and you think noone is there for you, well that's a lie, cause I am right here beside you to catch you if you fall, to dry your tears, and to heal your wounds of any kind.
What would you do if I was still alive?
Would you continue to hate me, and call me sadistic names?
Would this world still be cruel?
Would there still be a rule?
What would you do?
Briana Lynn Palmer
age: 14

Details | Rhyme | |

Be Her

You see her?
Why don't go be like her?
No one likes you,
so this is what you must do.

You must stop being yourself,
get off of you shelf.
You must please everyone,
to do that, you must be number one.

She's the perfect girl,
you're the no one in the world.
So go ahead, and give yourself away,
since you're going the wrong way.

You are no longer you,
see what you can do.
You are now her,
that's better than what you ever were.

Details | Rhyme | |

The Breakdown

Kill me now,
no one needs to know how.
They don't care anyways,
let me waste away.

I'm so alone,
I'm always on my own.
I was happy one minute,
now I want to cut.

I'm trying to stay strong,
but it's been too long.
I'm giving up,
since no one is helping me up.

I'm falling down,
and there's no one around 
to keep me sane,
so all I want is pain.

Details | I do not know? | |

and I will come

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/ 
when the fall gives its rights/ 
to the winter/
you know I will come/
for good or for bad/
I’ll board the train/
Passing by / stations/ and countries/
I promised/ and I remember/
You said “there’s no fortuitous meetings/

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When you’ll lose the trace/
When my firmest snickers/ wipe out/
I will/ I will come…
Unexpectedly/ knowing solely the door/
Just the road / for sure/
Before/ take you I’ll ask/
“are you ready to go?” / 
You are ready/ I know/
All the noise doesn’t matter/
I don’t haste/ will be later/

…I will come.
When it finally turns out/
That November is overthrown by December/
When the first snow falls down/
Will be clear/ that nobody is remembered/ 

And I will come…
Somewhere in chest/ between ribs/
You slashed me/ with thoughts/ 
I can feel it with lips/ crawling under my cloths/
Our world is alive/ our life/ we’re alike/
And I….

I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When the death is changed into fate/
When the winter gives up/ 
To wait/ for spring/
to stay with shining sun/
I will come.

Details | Free verse | |

Letter From God

If I had been upon the Titanic, with only moments left to live.
And if there was nothing left, for me to help with or to give.
Then I would find a paper, a pencil, a bottle, and some wax.
Then I would write a message, to cast adrift with everything else.
And in those moments I would write something short and simple.
I’d write…
People life is short, you never know when it will end.
And when my life is cut short, there’ll still be time for you to live.
Live it with your heart and soul forever in the front.
Reach out with them, give, and live your life as it was meant.
Then I would sign it … a lost soul…Titanic April 14, 1912.
Then I would seal the bottle and hold it in my hand.
Then I’d wait amidst the noise, tears, and pain. 
Until the water would eventually wash the bottle away.

Contest: Impress Me, Motif: Spiritual, By Carol Eastman

Details | Rhyme | |

Bucket List

So many things to do before I die,
So little time, but I'd take the risk and fly.
Learn how to drive, dance in the rain,
break some bottles and be insane.

Go to the beach & stargaze,
or watch the sunrise & be amaze.
I also wanna do something crazy,
spend the rest of my life happy.

Some solitude & skinny dipping,
spontaneity and a little singing.
Be Inspired to write a Novel,
to feel serendipity & Travel.

I know the big things comes from small things,
And it's my dreams that keeps me going.
Cos life isn't just about the moments,
But the people you meet that leaves us
an unexpected denouement.

And I always want to feel Infinite,
look at the horizon & know there's no limit.
Fall in love with no regrets,
learn, remember & never forget.

Cos' before I die, I'd like to look back,
To know I have passion & know I was on the right track.
So when I meet my creator someday,
I'd tell him about the moments that literally took my breath away.

Details | Lyric | |


Looks like I'm at the end of this bottle again.
Seems like cigarettes are my only friend.
Newports, no shorts, they're still never long enough.
Man, staying here never felt so rough. 

And I'm back to about a pack a day.
I'm just waiting for my lungs to cave in or give way
To a breath of fresh air, yeah that would be cool,
But once again I'm just a hopeful fool. 

Sometimes I wish that I could just go.
Runaway, find a place that I've never known.
Yeah that would be so nice.
Think it out, write it down, and scream it twice,
But for now I'll just way more time and 
Sometimes I wish I could just go.
Runaway, find a place that I've never known.
Man that would be so nice.
Think it out, write it down, and scream it twice,
But for now I'll just way more time and

I never thought I could drink so much.
Comfortably numb I've lost every touch.
Maybe someday I'll climb out to the top
And find some new ways to every stop.

Maybe someday I'll be out of my way.
Find someone to give me the heart to stay.
Maybe someday I'll be at the top of somewhere
Because down here in nowhere I know that nobody cares. 

Sometimes I wish that I could just go.
Runaway, find a place that I've never known.
Yeah that would be so nice.
Think it out, write it down, and scream it twice,
But for now I'll just waste some more time and 
Sometimes I wish that I could just go.
Runaway, find a place that I've never known.
Man that would be so nice.
Think it out, write it down, and scream it twice,
But for now I'll just waste some more time and

I've finally had it with dreams of out there.
With my bottle and cigarettes I'm lost in Nowhere.

Details | Quatrain | |

My Bedroom

The door of my bedroom is closed
Sunlight filters in through the curtain
I quietly lie down in bed
In this my sweet little haven

My cozy warm bedroom is safe
I feel my soul is truly free
No one dares to harm me in here
The whole world can just let me be

I pull up the covers real tight
As I hug close my teddy bear
I revert to being a child
A child with no worry or care

My eyes wonder around the room
But focus on a memory 
My rapid breathing evens out
As I relive sweet history

The people outside of my room
Leave me filled with stifling fear
I am left confused and unsure
As I brush away a stray tear

I’ve forgotten how to mingle
Socializing just gives me stress
Whatever I may say or do
Leaves me an emotional mess

Yet here in my room I am free
To converse with great eloquence
I talk to me, myself, and I
With such amazing confidence

I simply write and write and write
I resolve to love, laugh and live
I have not a single worry
About what I should do or give

Do you think that I’m a recluse?
A modern day hermit, you say?
It could be, but this I do know
I’m having a wonderful day!

Details | I do not know? | |

SHOULD U WOULD U COULD U i could but i wont

I could write about love, but love never lasts. I could write about memories, but memories are our past.
I could write about my dreams, but my words would not seem true, I could write just another simple poem, but i don't want to write of you.
I could write about moments, but moments always pass, I could write about life, but life is just too fast.
I could write about children, but i couldn't contain their youth, I could write about the homeless, but i'd rather build a roof.
I could write about alot of things that life it-self contains, but the fact that i'm writing at all, is the poem that remains.

Details | Couplet | |

Chasing away the blues

I have lived in a contest with life until now,
Not to be afraid in anticipation I now solemnly vow..................

I have cheated my fears alright,
I have broken up with my doubts uptight.

I got engaged to my faith last night,
I married my dreams at the sight of first light.

I am not afraid to get up today,
I am not afraid to wake up to another day today,

I am not afraid to open my eyes today,
I am not afraid to climb out of bed today.

I see beyond and am not afraid any more,
I see beyond and am not afraid any more.

I am ready to face the world all alone,
I am ready to do anything to walk up the stepping stone.

I am ready to say anything to anyone,
I am ready to talk to anyone under the sun.

I am ready to yell from mountain tops,
I am ready to dive from ravine drops.

I am ready to walk for a cause,
I am ready to run to protect environmental laws.

I am ready to understand tangled issues,
I am ready to wipe all tears with tissues.

I am ready to jump out from a moving truck,
I am ready to pull my allies from loads of muck.

I am ready to be creative again,
I am ready to write and spill out my joys and pain.

I am ready to sing my own songs,
I am ready to correct my own wrongs.

I am ready to throw a stone afar,
I am ready to play my own music for all with the door ajar.

I am ready to write notes about me,
I am ready to put them up for all to see.

I am ready to whistle whilst I walk down the alley,
I am ready to pluck the fruits from the orchards of Sally.

I see beyond and am not afraid any more,
I see beyond and am not afraid any more.

contest: chasing away the blues

Details | Rhyme | |

It's Not A Tree House - My Quiet Place

My quiet place is high above the maddening haste and
I can go there at my leisure, to this five story back yard walk-up, and
On the platform of this wooden stair castle in-the-air-deck, I
Can look over the city, awed at the wonders I see and write about.
The telephone is turned off to my delight and the only sounds
Are my sighs from time to time, and the whistle of the tea kettle. 
No plants to water, no pets to feed, just me, pencils, pads and
My special someone, who says his sole purpose in life Is to make me happy.
I stay here as long as I desire, in this quiet place writing,  and  best of all,
He only plays the music I want to hear…Frank Sinatra, singing anything.

It's not a tree house that hides me
From the world; I ignore 
Yellow jackets so they won't sting
Watch butterflies adored.

It's Not a tree house, inflated 
Balloon, my quiet place;
I love, laugh, write here, time is naught,
sun caresses my face!

Details | Couplet | |

Want to do

Written on: 7th September 2012.
Written by: Sashi.Prabhu (Zeauoxian)

Tons more I wish to do, Much more I want to do, Before I am laid on the pyre facing the sky deep blue, Much more I wish to do………. I want to scale scary heights, I want to bungee jump without any fright. I want to travel rough terrains on bikes, I want to make it through forests and go on long hikes. I want to wander singing songs, I want to sing about how I mended my wrongs. I want to be creative again , I want to write about my joys thrills and pain. I want to pour my heart and passion in my works, I want to write verses & haikus without reactions knee jerks. I want to take many a calculated risks, I want to learn from the entire process without shortcuts or fancy tricks. I want to contribute for a good cause, I want to give without siphoning material or emotional dross. I want to untangle messed up issues, I want to wipe off tears with empathy laced tissues. I want to work on taboo subjects, I want to solve regression of y on x. I want to listen to my music loud, I want to pen my work in a place far from the madding crowd. I want to sow seeds and many a plant, I want to bask in sun rays that into my room slant. I want to drench in the rains, I want to make paper boats and sail them in the drains. I want to pick up from the ground and smell fresh wet earth, And then joyously have my speech filled with mirth. I want to boldly write about myself only for me, I want the world to know me & my mind as they will always see. I want to meet often the persons, who mean a lot to me, I want to be able to emote my passions and feelings of love and glee. I want to be happy about just any small thing, And all this I want to do before the last breath to my nostrils I bring. Facing the blue skies on my funeral pyre, I want to be on the best craft my soul can hire…. All this I want to do very soon, Before sets into me dreaded gloom. But the life I live is taking its toll, I am yet to get out of this oblivious hole. Time is just right to set aside, And take a ride Fulfill my wants and dreams that I nurtured in me to grow, And I had put away sheathed in a cocoon of time many years ago. Now I don’t want a moment long, And I will do what I want and sing my own song, And do what in me I let grow, Many, many years ago.

Details | Rhyme | |

Pendant of rhythm

Things fall apart
And center can not hold
Inevitable pistol must 
have hit him
Thereby makes his 
dialectic arms to fold

No healthier life wish to die
Yes we all shall swallow death
This world accepts us as traders
We must return home through our death.

Stolen by wit and historian's library 
Moved by words and all his beautiful paint
Of world, war, society and its rule
As though he knows when he will seize to faint.

There is less trouble of this world when dies 
Let who seeks lasting star hear.
Way to fruitful life is widely narrow
So let who seeks it all stays clear.

Dedicated to Nigeria 
Literary Icon:
Prof. Chinua Achebe, 
who died on 21st March, 

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

An Angel's Craft

I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write"
With lantern light weary I write this morbid night
The moon above the meadows move in gloomy mist
With pen in hand, hermit a man and death amidst
Oh shall I walk the aisles of graves and hundred names
With flowers full of life financed on furnished frames
Below the wind and warmth of night do whispers woe
In fear I'm not for I care take of those below

For I have seen many a man and woman cry
And I have seen many a man and woman lie
Distilled in death with only breath of the beloved
Mourning above...mornings above heavenly loved
But something is a happening around the night
If not a dream how dost darkness so quicketh light
How frogs appear around lilies that left the fog
Where branches dance with trees beyond their childrens log
As ponds appear upon plateau of grave and sand
And stars above nomadic night come down to land
And voices of the birds play like a violin
And whispers of the wind hum like a hundred men!

It is at this moment that wings appeared to be
Uplifted from the back of her in front of me
Dear Angel, ye are he that spoketh write of thee
But in the nude in front of me am I to flee?

With hair in waves and arms extended out to see
Appeared to me...appeared to be...a flame of sea
That swept the cemeteries floor with torch and fire
And all in death consumeth life 'twas her aspire
A paradise on earth and wedding full of life
As they I have buried myself were full of light!

Women and men and children spread
A graduation of the dead
Ceremonious gift of beings
Thy conquered death, thy wearest wings!

Forth in her hands were flowers of a thousand-fold
And when she walked her footsteps formed a flood of gold
With every step a flower from her drew to ground
In mystic motion as she moved her wings would sound
Just like a brush of wind, angelic crystal wings
Face of fertility that wore a crown of rings
Unselfish all in all with fingernails of fire
Did pierce my heart into my soul a strong desire
To learn to love and love to live and live to give
Yes even in the dire darkness something lives

Believe me not and no one shall when I doth tell
The timid night I heard an Angel's voice exhale

Oh Angel it is thy that is in sacred stone
That came to me in flesh and now thy flesh is gone

Johnny Sumler
June 17, 2011
Angels In Cemeteries

Details | Free verse | |

Yet Another Boo-hoo Poem

The cursor blinks for the 254th time and I am still here,
sitting, letting my thoughts wander
to the left, what is left, 
If there is anything left
to wonder about

And    I realize that there is.
So much. Too much that I just have to smirk.

I am afraid that everything that will come out
would be sad, pitiful and wallowing.

Yet another boo-hoo poem.

It is nice to know that sometimes,
I do not disappoint myself.

Details | Sonnet | |

My words

I write this tribute to me, with in my words I am free, always alone left to explore, every possible reality at my door. In this world my backs always to the wall, often I feel what's the point of it all, the words I write help me to see, the truths that often elude me. My words give me strength to carry on, they always show me where I've gone wrong, snippets of my life caught in time, left to dissect slowly in my mind. Motionless and in front of me all my words lay, all my life's answers I find this way. "My Words"
Sponsor Francine Roberts Contest Name tribute by Sonnet

Details | Rhyme | |


This is dedicated to the sweetest little 10 year old girl I met once who died of Brain Cancer...

"Memories escape from you,
Ones we do not want to lose"
She whispered to me softly
When I felt all confused,
As our moment slipped away,
She made me want to say,
"Angels walk beside us all
Each slowly passing day"

As she walked away from me,
Unafraid to let me see,
A shaven head, she covered up,
Where her hair used to be,
So much courage for her age
Not empty and full of rage,
A miracle, in modern times,
She chose to turn the page

She has chosen not to grieve,
Instead she just believes,
A higher power watches her
and keeps her mind at ease,
Unburdened by her fate
She accepts it unafraid,
Barbie dolls and fancy clothes
Will rest where they are laid

There are times I can recall
When the pebbles made me fall
With boulders on her shoulders 
No complaining comes at all
With a smile upon her face
She achieved a state of grace
The only thought inside her head
"God please protect this place"

She will see no wedding rings
Or the change her presence brings
She will close her eyes, a final time,
and receive her angel wings
No emotions toss and turn
A peaceful place she has earned
Contributing an unseen verse
To songs she will not learn

When her body is no more,
And her spirit starts to soar,
Memories will live through,
Stuffed bears upon her floor,
She will let her mother know
Goodbye is not letting go,
Saying " I will run back to you
With every found hair bow

Every time you stop and see
A daughter who wants to be,
 Everything her mother is,
The emotion felt is me,
When the wind begins to blow
That is me trying to show,
The picture of your baby girl
Running carefree in your clothes"

When her final breathe is gone
Her last prayer lives on and on
"God watch over mommy now
If I leave her all alone"
All her family will cry
I will hold my head and sigh
At the death of a miracle
With no answers as to why

Though this piece will not be heard
I write every single word
In hopes of saying thank you
For the honor of meeting her
She will never get to see
All the words she put in me
As I write for you, rest in peace,
Beloved Emily

By: Audonus Taylor

Details | Free verse | |

Going to Argos

40 minutes ago I wanted to send you an sms thinking of you while I was drinking my cofee at the terraces that you love them at night but I didnt write because of the overly large sunshades and of the empty place from me which could never be taken now I write an sms that I will not send because it is impossible to let myself to be seen me who I look like a broken bench next to any empty place at the terraces that you love them at night with the lamps big as the story of Andromeda but with the sunshades overly large only now I send you an sms in which I have written nothing.

Details | Free verse | |

The Black Abyss

Sinking in deeper,
No way to escape,
The dark and scary Reaper,
Fore told in the Book of Life.

Is this my end?
Will I ever see the light of day again?
No. My wounds, I must mend.
I must find my strength.

Stand my ground,
Face my fears.
Only then will my voice be found
I must survive.

Break the suffocating chains,
Run from the darkness.
Power will fill my veins.
I will Fight!

Fight the painful names,
The horrid memories,
The demented games 
And escape My Black Abyss.

Details | ABC | |

life alone

life alone is bitter and cold
with no one to love no one to hold 
the long dark nights waking up on your own 
got money to spend but no one to phone 
to live like this 
to die with my shame 
to have love for so many with nothing to gain 
but where all born with a purpous reason for life 
but mine has been shattered like the shine off a knife
say the meaning of life and it looses its shine 
no one can own it to me it is all mine 
can life be this cruel or is it just me 
ive lost the way to my heart and i cant find the key 
to write all my feelings to write all my pain 
my heart is now empty cold like the nigh rain 
but we all must be love to be loved and forgotten 
to be buried six feet under and left to go rotten 
although i am 20 and my life is ahead 
but my pain will go on until i am dead

Details | I do not know? | |

Your Whisper

You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.

“I love you”, you murmured.

I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.

They still do.

Details | Free verse | |

Bathful of thoughts

After a trying day, I find
That a dip in the realms of poetrysoup
Is like a warm bath with bubbles around
So relaxing,, so reviving of the mind - 
Firstly I soap myself with words of others
Rinsing them off with a comment or two
Then I lie contented in a bathful of thoughts
Till it’s time to wrap myself in what I write too -
So IPad in hand I start to write
The words flow like ice cream on a warm night
Dare not stop to think, just write what comes next
For an aperitif, I read the words out loud to find
A glassful of Oh My’s follow the text
As I peruse the words that flowed so easily
Have to shell a few sentences along the way
The walnuts of knowledge sometimes go awry
I look at my effort, think hmm maybe yes ok
Can post this in poetrysoup wait for their says
See if this evening of laziness was what was required
That my walk in the words of poetry relaxed my brain.
In my bed, poetry free, now it’s time to start again


Details | I do not know? | |

Flying with Words

I write for the same reason I breathe,
If I didn't I would die,
Without words to express myself,
Life is a broken winged bird that can't fly.

I write my soul down word for word,
I write things I could never say,
Without this method of expression,
I would cry every day.

I try to forget all the regret,
Or else life is mine to miss,
Without saying how I truly feel, 
Then I'll always stay like this.

So I write for the same reason I breathe,
It's so that bird can fly to the sky,
I need to rise higher and higher,
And finally stop asking why.

Details | Free verse | |

Everywhere and Everything

Everywhere i go i see people dancing
sitting eating playing with there dads
then i wonder where mine went where did he go
did he move on and its then that i realize i have you and its then that i write

seeing kids everywhere with there friends and people having fun
inspires me to write and play the piano sometimes i wonder if i write 
because it makes me feel better to get it all out so maybe there not great 
or inspirational but it lets me realize whats right and wrong

i never thought i would make great friends by poems or by anything until i 
enterend my name on this site it feels right you guys are like my new family that cares
and is inspiring to me to do the right stuff

everything i do i owe to you. Thank You!

Details | Sonnet | |

Birth to Sonnets

at birth was diamond in mom and dad’s eyes
fourth grade through sixth grade I was a joker
it’s true in this life I have had some sighs
my time in the navy heavy smoker

all the women in my life should be queens
I know perfection can never be found
never shared my heart in my teens
after thirty years I made a rebound

my wife would sometimes call me an old maid
because of my slow off-balance movements
never saw action so I’m underpaid
today my life has many improvements

I love writing sonnets I’m no Shakespeare 
in a way it makes my life pretty clear

Details | Blank verse | |

Triangle of the life

 Triangle of the life

No one around me
In my studio
Beside the laptop 
Others are stand still

Table bed and stove
Triangle of the life
Cook write and sleep
Day passes so fast

Only night comes
Look at the bottle a side
A glass with appetite food
Enjoy a quarter of dark

Thought words and dream
Link together of hope
One pain in my heart
One part of the third

Some words that I write
Not close with my life
But because of you
I write with the hope

Udaya R. Tennakoon

Details | Free verse | |

Drunken Pen Rewrite

My electronic pen as drunk as a blind bat rattles along the virtual pages of my computer trying to make sense of its staggering direction, 
Not knowing which word will next come out of its nib, mainly keeping a balance, endeavoring not to topple over, or to make scrawling blotches on its whitened board.  
It is interesting that one can surmise the demise of a pen, by checking the balance of ink life that remains. However if the pen is drunk it will display uneven levels of ink life as it rocks and staggers across fallen white leafs destined to change color.  
Many a writer has become an idea dwarf. Hence, what is called writer’s block, sets in.  I have found myself down that street a few times and have exercised my drunken pen’s syndrome option to its fullest.  
Nothing quite like it though, as this form of writing makes no sense to the closed minded reader, but a satisfactory opt out when the writer’s mind is blocked, to resort to using their drunken pen.

This is a rewrite, because I am firing blanks and this says it all.

Details | Personification | |












Details | Free verse | |

thoughts to martyr

when the lights are dim
and the night looks grim
all i write is sound
and i think i'm better off
better off

twice today
I was in your arms
and i bit my tongue 
i'd rather be aloft
yea i think i'm better off
better off

dear city that never sleeps
i often think of you
i wonder how you will keep
when the night sinks into
and if you make it to the days break
no one will really know it's you
another second chance to excel with truth
relaxed like stooping pigeons on the roof
lately i've been dying for a noose
or just a rope in general to hang myself from
day light trickles
but i find it difficult to hold a nickel to my left thumb
in other words 
life is simple if you play it as it comes
here lately 
i find myself growing more skeptical of people 
feelings resemble damaged goods that pose lethal
at the edge of absinthe 
and only tear drops touch the needle 
i still write
but most of the time i'm like
kind of nice
for tomorrow pushes me gently 
it's a rush but it soothes my thoughts 
and i'm stronger mentally

when the lights are dim
and the night looks grim
all i write is sound
and i think i'm better off
better off

twice today
I was in your arms
and i bit my tongue
i'd rather be aloft
yea i think i'm better off
better off
so i'll send this letter off

"when all else fails I write"

Details | Couplet | |

We are Pregnant Pencils

We are nothing but pencils without eraser,
 And life a big book, not made up of papers.
 Our footprint on life is our sorry or success story,
 How we walk determines our gloom or glory.
We are pencils meant to draw lines and links
 With either an invisible or indellible ink.
 Our blueprints are in three stages and structures:
 Our past pages, present prints and future features.
Our past pages cannot be completely erased,
 Trying to re-write on them makes them defaced.
 My friend, close that chapter and write a new one;
 Each new day presents a new page to write on.
Our present prints are presented in timely chances…
 How we chose to embrace cheers and challenges,
 Taming tears, tending our tender treasures;
 Each day is a brick or broom to our future.
The future’s features are loads of incredible art,
 You can only view them when we open our heart:
 Your dreams present platform to play your part.
 Dream big with the little you have and dare to start.
We are priceless pencils and life is our paper;
 What we write makes our lives bitter or better.
 Refusal to write does not make the world stagnant;
 It only makes a man’s page dormant though pregnant.
We are nothing but pregnant pencils without erasers,
 Impregnated by places, people and… higher powers,
 Yet what we write carries our copyright,
 We cannot erase, so write to your delight.
Copyright (c) 2012 by Adeleke Adeite.

Details | I do not know? | |

Heart And Soul

I see in your heart I see Inside your Soul

I feel the feelings only you can see or know

I feel your pain from deep down inside

And know the hurt and feelings combined

Your an Amazing,Sweetheart this you should know

Don't let anyone take that from deep inside your Soul

The hurt you feel the anguish deep down inside

will only go away if you learn to let go and cry

The release is so great and healing. Refreshing I would say

That your heart will grow warmer and warmer each day

The Love you have inside shows in your outer glow

So let that glow reach deep down to where it needs to go

You are Beautiful on the inside and out dont let anyone

ever make you dought. Take control and let your inner

 light glow.. Come on girl let's give them a beautiful show

Don't lighten your glow for anyone you know let it shine

 and always abound..

Just know this to me you are one of the most Beautiful Souls

One of the most precious I have ever encountered on this earth

Although our friendship is beginning to bloom in leaps and bounds

I feel in my heart there is plenty of room for it still to grow

You are the most open, welcoming, sweetheart of a girl that I know

It feels like our friendship has been around forever your already in my soul

I Love you more than words could ever express I'll always be here

to help with any and all Stress or obstacles you go through

So know in me a True friend you have found one that promises to

NEVER let you down!!!!

Written By: Christina Kirks McCullouch


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Monday Morning Affect

Monday Morning Affect: ESSAY; Reality is nothing but a "Dream"

Their was a question posed to me by Word Xpress, a web sight that which
I now revere. The question was a Trivial Question which was richly profound, but
Not so trivial!.... It read " Quote"-unquote...

Word Xpress

Word-Xpress Question of the Week's Trivial Question  member, Tam McDowell:

"You are recruited to write a collaboration with 3 contemporary icons of your
choosing to submit to your favorite historical figure for the ppurpose of diffusing a third world war. Who would be the 3 Icons, the historical figure, and what would be the
title of your poetic speech in five words or Less?"

Ooooo, challenging!! Please post!!!

My response to Word Xpress:

From Gary Fields: If I were recruited to write a collaboration with 3 contempory Icon's
To submit to my favorite historical figure for the purpose of diffusing a "Third World War".
Who would be the 3 Icon's, the historical figure, and what would be the title or your
poetic speech in five words or less? My choice would be: Muhammad Ali, George Clinton,
And The Rev. Dr. Luther King Jr.......As presented to The President Barack OBAMA to read
"We Can Change The World".

Mahammad Ali denote' the human frailty of the condition which is man...
George Clinton (Past President) denotes' courage and change.....
Rev. Dr. Martain Luther King Jr. represent's the ultimate in Religion and Human Rights'...
I represent that, that question was trival, but not to trival and represent as a
Reality which is not a dream...But, a hope and dream in contemplation. Nor do I think 
That World Peace, the Green House Effect and World Hunger are Trivial. They are facts' 
Of reality which are relevant and part of a "DREAM'. The reality though, is that the
triviality of it all is so relevant and solely to the determent of the people! Only this is not
trivial....Only, this is not trivial to the Lord, it is a quest for man to over-come his own
triviality. And to hope that we do not cause self to become trivial in the eye's of the Lord,
fore He is our refuse.

This in my premonition and I do stand by it fully...Thank you to Word Xpress for having
the malice of fore thought, to bring this sublimation to the light...I thank you, your friend in the pen/G.FIELDS  luv, Kiss>kiss

Details | I do not know? | |


If life was given a second chance...
I like to turn back my childhood...
I would start again…I will write again...
I will write my life with a good friend...
A good friend like you…
A friend to understand. A friend to care…
A friend to laugh with and a friend to care…
A friend like you to share…
I wish I was given a second chance…
To be with a friend like you…
To cry on your shoulder…
When the hurts was so full..
When tears was too long…
When smiles were all gone…
I wished I was given a second chance…
You know me…my deepest secrets…
You care for me like a child…
You are all in all in my life….
I know I am yet not to late…
But I want be able to re write my life again…
But I know it all happens for a reason…
I am glad... are in my life…
For all the reasons…!!

Details | Quatrain | |


   I guess you could call me a silly guy
   For humor is how I get through the day.
   I love telling stories, writing poetry, and romance
   Each in its own separate way.

   I could be called a "Hopeless Romantic"
   As I have always been sentimental inside.
   I learned that feeling growing up
   Watching my parents, and their worlds collide.

   I knew my Dad better than anyone...I think
   He and I worked together for some time you see.
   And when he died at an early age
   Everyone seemed to be in tears but me.

   Of the six kids in our family growing up
   I had a brother named Ron that I was closest to.
   He had a sense of humor and devotion to his family
   And he would always find strange things for us to do.

   We loved driving around in his old MG
   When it worked it could do no wrong.
   He took me for rides I'll never forget
   To teach me his favorite Irish drinking songs.

   His death really put me on the writer's path
   As I eulogized him with "Remembering Ron".
   But afterward I could not stop the words from coming out
   As if a spigot had deliberately been turned on.

   So I have written poetry, stories, and a few songs too
   I'd like to publish something some day.
   Getting to read and write here on the Soup
   Pehrhaps, I will finally find the way.

   I believe in the goodness of man's inner soul
   And that God intended for us to be happy here.
   The love of Wife, Child, and Family
   Just make me want to stand and cheer!

   I'd like to see us not have wars
   Or even have cross words with others we meet.
   Sometimes I plead my case in the words that I write
   And sometimes, the proverbial "Dead Horse" do I beat.

   I look at history as a great learning tool
   For I've studied Antropology in college you see.
   And all the past comes into the present time
   At least, it does for me.

   So I will write works about historical things
   As much as I write about family, love, emotions, and silliness too.
   Just so others can get some insight into me
   And perhaps their own lives as they should do.

      I don't know who will read my work
   Or if they benefit at all from the things I say.
   I only know that this passion to write
   Is one that is here to stay.

   Some people think I'm kind of grumpy
   I guess that is also true.
   But the words I write fill that void inside me
   This is but one more poem...for you.

Details | Rhyme | |

What Poetry Is To Me

When you read what I write,
What you see is an internal fight.
The words that you read are more,
They are thoughts that begin to pour.
I write these words to blow off steam,
If I didn't I'd tear at the seams.
When I write I don't need to think,
All my thoughts fall off the brink.
When I write I don't notice time,
It flies by with every rhyme.
For my mind, my body is nothing but a tool,
When all my thoughts reel from the spool.
Poems are more than just pretty words,
They are the most beautiful things I've ever heard.
They are ornate doors to another's mind,
You never know what you may find.
Poetry is more than just a way to kill strife,
To me it's much more, it's a way of life.

Details | I do not know? | |

My Crazy Neighbour

Sitting after I finished my studies
Started thinking 
Looking at the closed window facing me
I wanted to write
Do I write about Life or Politics?
The drops started hitting the window
The echo made me think

I decided to write about my studies
A way of thinking
But the darkness outside that I see,
And the drops fight 
Do I write anyway or fear politics?
I looked at my pens, maybe they know
I sipped some of my drink

I see the light and thunder and light dies
I ceased drinking
Maybe after all, the problem is me
People out there fight
But is fighting and killing, politics?
A feel something moving, wants to grow
How do I think?

Why my neighbour does shout? He cries.
I started thinking
"If I respected him, he would have respected me"
This savage wants to fight
I shouted, shut up I don't fight lunatics.
He saw the picture in fact I know
The picture, I think.

I draw his daughter. You bastard, he cries
I started winking
The picture offended him, I know. See
I draw what I please, my right
My freedom. Why do my hand panics?
You Stink

He entered furious pulled my shirt
Told me he will show my real sex by pulling my skirt
My hands were alert
But damn the one who is wrong is the one hurt

I am writing now my hands trembling
Why did I start it since I can't end it?

Details | Prose Poetry | |


 There is a personal testimony and everyone's focus is on the group and on the 
self and not on JESUS where it was supposed to be the reason eye won't go to 
fellowship with rich working Christians meeting at a SUNDAY SUPPER to drive to 
a pizza place where everyone pays something for the food even if they share it the 
cost is still beyond the pocketbook of yew. The added price of fellowship with 
world is loss of spirit functions eye am not suggesting we have meetings in the 
desert with the hedgehogs but there could be a meeting place for all the 
Christians like the fish doors of the early days of meetings they were in and out 
so furtive searching alleyways for soldiers avoiding arrests and fighting and 
bringing lots of food in the bags of fishes and the loaves of breads in pockets of 
the tunaes fishes smile eye could just not resist this in almost every Church 
there is a Kitchen and in some of them is love the people make the soup for the 
homeless and the court appointed prisoners and even important people come. 
Hang a fish upon the door of every kitchen in the nation make a place with tables 
where the poor can come in love do not forget the love the soup is  nice but even 
slabs of raw meat are not enough with hate. 
Eye could not write a word on yesterday the things that eye had wanted to write 
left on the flight of lost ideas and night came again without a thought and then the 
day came back this fable was born and eye decided to try religion again. The 
focus of a lot of people is the congregation the error being life is not a middle 
class house with people making money in a paper plate of life some people 
need a cup of soup just to survive please open up your love first open up your 
hearts then open all them kitchen cupboards up. There is another thing that eye 
must say to all the bible thumpers not yet in the grave what does it matter what 
the date and day of this my own salvation come the day of JESUS was 33 AD the 
date that GOD was saving me. 

Details | Free verse | |

The Journey

From time immemorial your story began
A hundred, a thousand, a million years and more
Your story past written a character just one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Each story unique while pieces the same
Today, tomorrow, millennia expended and gone
Your story continues passed first to no last
The tale of you bleeds into all

Through love and hate, laughter and death
Minutes and seconds grew to decades and days
The story being written you wrote each day
The tale of you bleeds into all

Memories endure through dream and remembrance
Yesterday is gone but tomorrow you live on
Your story yet written a character more than one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Your stories the fires shall never consume
A past, a future, a present goes on
The story you wrote lives forever in your love
The tale of you bleeds into all

Details | Free verse | |

the Triumph of the Pen

Oh winging Heart on a mission
to the edge of forever,
speed to the beloved with a message of Love.

We look in a different way,
with the Heart do we see,
and in that wondrous seeing,
is the feeling of awes majesty!

Yeah, that's the way to overcome
the 'thought police' inside the head;
doubt is the Heart killer
and so with this pen,
we’ll write our Hearts out again and again,
and if they judge the words we say,
to dash our Dreams in any way,
then we'll write even more to soothe the Soul
for the writing life is our Loving goal!

This triumph of Love carried to our pen
where in our written words Love lives again ...

A writer writes and never stops writing
and rewrites and writes again and again ...
and he never stops writing except to Dream,
perhaps to reach for that Star in that Star crowded Sky
and bring that Star to the end of his Pen
and write like plasma all over again ...

Details | Free verse | |

Writer's Paranoia- 3

I wipe the sweat from my brow
I made my submission four weeks passed,
it took even longer to write my piece, 
3 months to be exact.
As I stare at the blank screen,
the paranoia sets in and I think to myself
The publishing company will know it was me,
they will know the acts created were of my own.
I did not mean to murder her, my wife.
It was her laziness that finally set me off.
I just asked her to iron my shirt, 
she couldn't even do that right.
At first I thought that the iron had slipped,
it was then that I realized, as the moments passed,
that my hand was wrapped around the iron,
gripped tight.
From then on, after this sudden realization,
I figured it wasn't so bad after all,
at least I had something to write about for my next piece.
So now I sit, here, staring at the blank screen
as the paranoia sets in.

-Caroline Youngless

Details | Lyric | |

Ode to Snow: Snow Week

Verse 1:
I’ve been in my house for way too long
So now I resort to write this song
For all of the people who would agree
To very simple heartfelt plea

Snow please go away.
We hope that you’ll return another day
You’ve outdone your welcome you see
So I hope you will listen to me
                                         Oh please,
Verse 2:
The first day I was amazed to see
That God had given snow to me
The second day I was real surprised
To see that the roads were still real iced
Third day had come my heart was blue
The fear in my mind had just come true
School had been cancelled for the day
So to our God this prayer I laid

“Make the snow go away
We pray you’ll make return another day
Please Lord don’t you see
School is where I really need to be”
                                          Sincerely Me,
Verse 3:
Fourth day a feeling came to me\
Frustration, boredom, and sadness three
Fifth day I ventured to the yard
Seeing the ice was very hard
I couldn’t take that day anymore
So I started season 3 of 24
Maybe this snow would never leave
Until I lose excessive sleep

I can’t stand you snow
Someplace else is where you need to go
My toes are numb I can’t find my brain
I don’t suspect I’ll ever feel them again 

Verse 4:
The sixth day came I was so glad
To get out the house with my dear dad
At the Starbucks I left my purse
Proving I’d lost my mind of course
Tomorrow is Friday a snow day too
I’m hoping the sun will come melt you
Activity low, I am so bored
But now I’ve run of guitar chords

In this house I’ve been for way too long
It’s given me time to write this song
Snow listen to this request I plea
My friends and family would agree
                                              With me…..

Details | Rhyme | |

A New Start

"My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear"
Holding on to the past isn’t worth holding on to anymore.
Forgetting about the days I would want to run away.
Erasing all the images that are burned into my head.
Leaving behind the questions that run ramped through my mind.
I can’t go back in time, I can’t change what was said and done.
I am done trying to figure it out. 
It has taking me 25 years to come to this conclusion.
I have been too busy living in the past 
And trying to figure out why everyone hurt me bad.
That I forgot who I was,
now it's time to live my life.
With every step I walk tonight.

cory long
Just write contest

Details | Rhyme | |

How do you wanna be remembered

Has that question ever sneaked its way into the conscious of your third eye? 
Have you ever took pause from your self and viewed yourself as a he was or she was?
Release that parachute from flight and ground your soul with the memories of others thoughts.
The limits down here are not as high as the sky. 
We get one chance to imprint the fixture, the movement... The tone of a legacy left by indifferences that makes you you!
The day my handkerchief floats no longer and drifts to the ground, I envision the power outage of the world. 
Darcel stood a monument that people just had to get a glance at. 
Darcel spoke with his heart while even in defeat. A lyric can’t harmonize the music that D. Sharp stands for. 
A silence of over joy for him applauded over the art of tap. 
Heads rolling back accepting the embodiment of fruits picked from me. 
Screams of loss jamming frequencies of those trying to pick and hold on to one of the many memories of me.
I call on the locksmith that is you and you and you to unchain what is me, myself, and I with a twist of your key. 
God allowed me to plant it, to water it, and nurture it within a bunkered facility. 
Some might say he aint this and he wasn't that but remember.
I say remember because at one point in your life I was perfect for you. 
I aided you to or from a circumstance that gave u clean air to breathe. 
Now aint that some shit!
That’s how I will be remembered!

Details | Rhyme | |

Your Memory Surrounds Me

Your kiss brought me to life
Your delicate touch my friend
Am I happy we had our moment?
Or am i depressed in the end?

We had one night of passion
We looked deep within
Was your kiss a dream
Or was it a sin?

During the moment
I was alive
Deeper we dove
You left me struggling to survive

You made me smile
You made me dance
I would give it all
For one more chance

I could write for days
I could write for years
But I will always remember
Regardless of the beers

Your flowing hair
Your gorgeous eyes
Was that night my start?
Or was it my demise?

You are all I dreamed for
All I ever want
May you soon come back
Or the memory will forever taunt

Details | Prose Poetry | |

We Expand

When I was a kid, i believed that I would never stop growing. I measured myself, and knew that everything taller was a glimpse of the future. 
We would all be giants eventually. The tallest man that ever lived was named Robert Wadlow. He couldn't stop growing. On his first day of school, 
he was taller than his father. They say, that when he tripped on the playground his knees made twin craters from falling so far. By the time he was 10, the dirt in his home town was pot-marked like a second moon. 
Size always seems to matter most when we are falling. An ant dropped from an airplane will survive with no injuries, if an elephant slips 3 feet, 
it's legs will snap beneath it, and or us, it is those dreams that we remember most. The ones where the harness breaks. 
Where you step from the roof of a building without knowing why. When a plane rushes back toward the earth like a lost lover. We always wait just before impact, unsure of shattering or survival, 
and unable to accept our own size. 
Maybe this is why we hunt the large animals to extinction; To make ourselves seem greater. In the end, the victory of the atom bomb was not in the arms raised, but it's ability to topple all of the smallest creatures. We dream of surviving as mountains; of never having to look up again. 
We long for longer conquests. 
The ship vaster than the ocean. 
The fire dwarfing the fuel. We expand. We expand,. 
Weapons add more than just inches to your arm span. When you fire a gun, you can touch someone a thousand of feet away just think of all the giants our wars have already created. Cemeteries are like an infinity of white cross hairs. Mass graves that are just twisting of what we have always wanted; A mountain built from our bodies. We expand, we expand,. 
Our empires, stretching like red lips opening into the widest sssmile, and then swallowing the face whole. We build our largest statues for our war heroes, greater your conquest, the taller we will make you. We are taller than our fathers now. We cannot stop growing. Robert Wadlow did not want to be a legend. He wanted to train as a lawyer, but his hands were to large to 
write and type with. He died at age 22, half an inch short of 9 feet from an infection he never felt, because his nerves could not transmit signals that far. So stop trying to be statues. 
Feel the signals your feet send back to you and say "It is good to feel this close". It is good to live in our own bodies. Our bodies are whispers. Are bodies are matchsticks in the dark that light the small parts of us; The parts of us that can accomplish impossible things.

Details | I do not know? | |

A Life Too Real

Loved by no one
Hated by all
Blank stares fill the halls
What am I to be?

A feeling of pain
Known all too well
Erected from the depths of Hell
How do I overcome?

A solemn life
To be spent in sadness
Eternal silence results in madness
When will I be found?

Forever adrift
In a sea of sorrow
Dreading the wake of a hopeless morrow
Will this ever end?

The will to fight
Fades with time
A mountain of heartache, an endless climb
Why did God choose I?

Anger and resent
All much too real
Constant rage a daily ordeal
Will I ever change?

Details | Couplet | |

Quelled Woes and Afflictions

I have lived in a contest with life until now, Not to be afraid in anticipation I now solemly vow.................. I have cheated my fears alright, I have broken up with my doubts uptight. I got engaged to my faith last night, I married my dreams at the sight of first light. I am not afraid to get up today, I am not afraid to wake up to another day today, I am not afraid to open my eyes today, I am not afraid to climb out of bed today. I see beyond and am not afraid any more, I see beyond and am not afraid any more. I am ready to face the world all alone, I am ready to do anything to walk up the stepping stone. I am ready to say anything to anyone, I am ready to talk to anyone under the sun. I am ready to yell from mountain tops, I am ready to dive from ravine drops. I am ready to walk for a cause, I am ready to run to protect environmental laws. I am ready to understand tangled issues, I am ready to wipe all tears with tissues. I am ready to jump out from a moving truck, I am ready to pull my allies from loads of muck. I am ready to be creative again, I am ready to write and spill out my joys and pain. I am ready to sing my own songs, I am ready to correct my own wrongs. I am ready to throw a stone afar, I am ready to play my own music for all with the door ajar. I am ready to write notes about me, I am ready to put them up for all to see. I am ready to whistle whilst I walk down the alley, I am ready to pluck the fruits from the orchards of Sally. I see beyond and am not afraid any more, I see beyond and am not afraid any more.

Details | I do not know? | |


Trapped. No where to hide.You scream at me through the door.Though your words still 
sting me.
I sit on the ground alone.Blood drips down like tears. tears run down like rain.The room's 
spinning.  My heart bursts out of my clothes.We got into a fight.  Why is unclear.
I tried to leave.  You hit me. I fell.I started to cry.  You kicked me.A sharp pain burst out of 
my chest.  I could not breath. I have little energy,I kicked you.  You fell. I ran to our 
I am trapped.  No where to hide.I'm weak. I stumble to your Night stand.I see a gun.You 
break down the door.  I grab the gun.You start to choke me, squeezing my throat like you 
were trying to get some sort of juice out of me.
I pull the trigger.
BANG!Trapped.  No where to hide.Your grip feels looser.   Your face in pain.
You fall down. i fall into darkness.Free.  No need to hide.

Details | Rhyme | |

I Love You

You have no idea what you do to me
You made changes in me that people are starting to see
No other way to say this but you complete me
Like waves on the sea
Or leaves on a tree
My life isn't complete 
Unless its you and me
You honestly make me believe 
That we were meant to be together
I will love you forever
No matter what school chooses to do
I will always be able to write you
And I pray you will write back
I never want yo lose you that is a fact
I pray you don't feel like I abandoned you because of the lack
Of my physical presence just know that
I cry when I am not with you
When I'm home alone I swear I feel you
Needless to say I love and need you

Details | Lyric | |

The Poet and the Prophet

Why have you come to me with questions of your life? 
Asking of what foot placements will better your stride. 
You beg me to ask the Prophet of which events you can tame, 
And for me to write his words in a poem, in your name. 
The universe expands rift as you expound your shame. 
You say the Prophets vision won't be true unless my paper I have stained. 
You ask me to write you a better path, one that will suit you, 
But the Prophet is no puppet master and puppets I refute you. 
My old friend the Prophet wastes no visions on those who are blind, 
And I can sense why you yearn for my lines; I can feel you've been unkind. 
Watch your tongue; you say your downfall has only us to blame? 
I'll spare you only one verse of wisdom, the secret to our game. 
The Poet and the Prophet are one in same.

Details | Free verse | |

Summer School

One year I went to a summer school. 
And there was a girl there 
With shining eyes and
An award winning smile. 
She was kind to everyone and 
Excluded no one. 
She always laughed with others
But you could go to her when you 
needed it.
We talked for hours and
Quickly became friends. 

Last year I went back to summer school. 
The girl was still there. 
She had sad eyes but
Kept the award winning smile. 
She was kind to everyone yet
Excluded herself. 
She never laughed properly 
But you could always go to her 
when you needed it. 
We talked for mere minutes and
I guess I lost a friend. 

This year when I went to summer 
The girl was no longer there.
Rumours of suicide surrounded
Her name
And no one was kind to us all.
Everyone excluded their-selves.
Silence consumed every thought and moment
Because no one was there when we 
truly needed it. 
Memories of talking haunted me and
I couldn't help but miss my friend.

Details | Lyric | |

thursday night's laundry

I pretend as though I write for you
Sing of changes in the days to come
I pretend I write for you

Outside of clock work
You’re all I’m into
I hold you now
And I feel it’s dying slow
Dying to get you there
how did you get away

There are no fairy-tales
No short stories of ways to go
These are the worries
Every villain gets to know

Hurt for the ages
In the days of some
Apply this method 
And reach for one

Until the years bring back their dead
Inside of tears remains
the essence to feel relief
One Thursday night we sang 
of desires beyond belief

I hold you now 
and I feel it’s dying 
Dying to get you there
How did you get away

"wash me away"

Details | I do not know? | |


I write about that girl
Who’s always over looked.
The one who never fits
Into one single place.

I write about being used
But never once wanted.
About trying so hard
It all just breaks away.

I write about being forced to help
Or forced to watch your mother wither away.
About the inner conflict of loving
And wanting to punch in the face.

I write about wanting so much it hurts
But never uttering a word.
About shy hope
that’s just enough to have faith.

I write about all things
The barely get you through the day.
About forgiveness
The makes everything okay. 

Details | Rhyme | |

Doesnt make sense

I think ill make something new!
Something somewhat different with the words i spew!
Something about lost love to be found.
That will end up driven right into the ground. 
Or in a box called lost but not found.
Or make something about death so hollow and sad.
So sad it will move the hardest prison grad.
Get it?
But anyways maybe not.
Maybe ill write a story of a baller getting shot.
But yeah ill probly not.
Whats on your mind though?
Have you got the time to find the time then let it go.
Just grab a notebook and let it flow.
Its like riding on a breeze nice and slow.
Like flying a kind real low. 
Its easy unless its not simple.
Like when you use big words to sound obedient.
Which only rymes with words like expedient.
I dont even know what that means, i just threw it into the ingredients.
Sounds like a word thats rather deviant.
I like to build my poems like a subservient structure. 
Im loosing it so bad my brains about to rupture. 
This write sucks it doesnt make any sense.
The reason im on the damn fence.
Becuase nothing i seem to do.
Seems to make sense.

Details | Rhyme | |

At War With Myself

Fighting a battle that I may never win,
Just seems to break me a little more with every breath I take in.
There's a monster inside me that tries to pry it's way through and make me weak.
No one really knows that it's help I seek.
I can feel it clawing at my soul, breaking down the wall it's behind.
I search for a path to get away from it, but it's just something I can't find.
There's loved ones everywhere to help me, but I can't find the words to ask.
I have to hide the tortuous pain and tears behind this treacherous mask. 
I fight to keep it all in, I fight to be the happy person I should be.
I fight against it all because this isn't the person I want people to see.

Details | I do not know? | |

I Don't Write Poems

I don’t write poems.
I also don’t sleep.

I can’t write poems.
I also can’t sleep.

I won’t write poems.
I also won’t sleep.

I write stories.
I also stay awake.

Maybe I should write poems.
Maybe I should try to sleep.

Details | I do not know? | |

Why I Write

…Emptiness tightens its shackles,


imprisoning me.


Jagged shrapnel,
piercing my heart,


my emotions trickle away,

yet hope refuses to flee.


I write, to feel again.


Something, anything.


I write,

to be free.


I write to feel again.


something, anything.

I write to be.

Details | Rhyme | |

Spotlight on 2013

Spotlight on 2013

You run through my mind
like my rhymes from 2012
I’m thinkin’…I’m takin’ em’ with me…
“bring nothin’ but yourselves 
Inclined lyrically”
“LET’S GO 2013!”
Long-term goals love
when dreams become reality…
Increasing my oxygen
through life’s catastrophes…
Leads me into 2013
with the same oceans of oceans…
but a whole different view
Artistically designed…
We’ll design your inner thoughts
to bring the best of you out…
Are you ready for 2013??
If not… let’s get stability
to evolve into excellence exceptionally…
Are you ready yet?
THEN LET’S GO 2013!!!

By: Aleasha Martin

Details | Blank verse | |

Alone With No Sense Of Direction

I am a lost person, but I am not alone.
I make choices in my life and I choose to let go.
I need a change of space, and my lyrical notes,
The beauty and the face should fade, but more I want to grow.
The nobility in life is sad, when madness is a nuisance and insanity a fad.
I have some regrets, some I can't forget,
but If I can't forgive myself, then who will forgive my sins?
I'll give it my all, and pray I win.
I'll keep my heart locked and throw away the key,
never let anyone inside, so I can remain free.
Can I question a higher power, or would I be dead,
The scum of the earth, creating poetry that is read,
by the mindless masses, blaming the heart to death,
I hope this will heal me, burning the past, 
The beauty in the innocence, never really lasts.
I have a feeling tonight will open my eyes, 
and guide me too the light instead of lies.
I'm praying to god that you are how I think you are,
because I need compassion, not just a broken heart.
I don't know why I like you, but you seem to close to part.
Please don't leave me here, surrounded in the dark.

Details | Sonnet | |

Bone Tired

Then carefully she pushed the den back door
And stepped into the messy strewn day room
Dog bones, plates, cracker crumbs slung on the floor
All it would take is a few sweeps of broom

But__she was tired just bone tired of cleaning
Picking up strewn this and that, folding clothes
It seemed to be a life of no meaning
Maybe I'll write some polyphonic prose

"She sells seashells by the summer seashore"
That's not mine but maybe I can write too
Chihuahua can't chew gum chewings a chore
Can you write one or don't you have a clue

Now my tireness is gone no memory
Of that worrying about backstory

maintenant termine'

Details | I do not know? | |

Viritutum vita

Roses are red violets are blue
Love is so special, But be cautioned
its reserved for only the few. 

For once in my life I was so sure of something that was real,but i must 
have been trapped in her congenial veil.
so riddled with self doubt, insecure with what i was trying to figure out.

but love isn’t easy
love is patent,love is kind.
love is everything you make of it.

love is like a puppy dog frolicking in the sand, love is like a helping hand.
love can be friendships we share, love can be our biggest despair. 

I thank god for blessing me every day, for i am no modern day Ernest Hemingway.
In steed of dwelling on something I wish that would be, I should thank you for letting me be 
your noble steed.

I write about how I feel, sometimes I just have to deal with the cards of my worlds surreal. 
I wish love is something I felt, 

because love is proud
it does not boast, it does not write hurtful posts. 

Love is not arrogant. 
Love is patient, love is kind.

love can be found in the smallest places,
love is the reason for my creation.”
-Addison Lanpher 

Details | Free verse | |

Enigmatic Lane

Enigmatic Lane

This enigmatic lane-
I’ve walked long.
And now I see
Only barren lands,
A mere setting sun,
And a vague horizon.

I turn to look back
Along this enigmatic lane.
And then I see
Those umpteen vicissitudes,
Those sudden meanders,
Those familiar turns,
Those abrupt detours.

Down this enigmatic lane,
There have been
Many a rich meadows,
Many a bleak wastelands,
Millions of pompous marches,
Millions of disconcerting dirges,
Several comforts of love,
Several cruelties of reclusion.

Along this enigmatic lane
I may no longer tread, for-
As I now halt, I ponder-
Perpetuation has always been
The ruse of fleeting phases,
And what worth has it been
To walk this enigmatic lane.

Details | Limerick | |

My Passion - Poetry

I love poetry with a passion, so much That I write it every day as such I really get into it The very thought of it As if I’m writing without a crutch I write a poem with great expression Writing all about my extreme passion For writing a poem I have to show’em I can write about anything of a fashion
Russell Sivey Entrant into ???'s "My Passion" contest 2/26/2012

Details | I do not know? | |

What should I do

I could cry or let the world get me down
But that would let it win I am to strong for that
I think I will go into town
And get a new hat

Or maybe I should write a pome or sonnet
On life and love
Make it funny heart felt or about a dog in a bonnet
Maybe some gray doves

It really is not important what I do
Or how I spend my day
As long as I don't let it make me blue
I know it will all be Okay

I can sing write or just watch tv
As long as I have hope it will be fine
And your here with me
Maybe I should drop some old friends a line

I really could do just about anything
Cause today I have faith in the world
I can do everything
I am a girl

Details | Free verse | |


What do write about 
when you're tired of 
Words said, 
words heard, 
words that never 
materialized into 
real …

What do write about 
when you're tired of 
Feeling hurt,
feeling depressed,
just feeling 
bad …

What do write about 
when you're tired of 
just being?
Being deceived,
being lied to,
just being
me … 

Details | Free verse | |

The cogs keep on turning

A distant fire glows
out on the horizon
spreading further as it grows
Early morning nature rises
calls as birds stir twittering
Day breaks 
crisp chilled air fresh on the lungs
Cats stalk through gardens
as news paper round girls and boys cycle on by
Dogs bark disturbed
by familiar letter box rattles
A couple of car doors close
first engines started for the day
all indicates beginning of daily rat race
and slowly home by home emerges
adding to numbers and noise
Smog starts to lift
Smells of fuel spoil the airs quality
Industry booms mechanically back to life
and once again the process of life carries on

Details | I do not know? | |

A world of Words

they intrigued me

they made me laugh

they told me endless, illicit, Stories

of events that could or may not have

taken place 



spoken in just the right tone

won (one) could believe

in just about anything...



uttered, just before a kiss



yelled, out loud 

as a preacher bells out

thunder and Theology



given in youthful haste



with Criticism



of wisdom



tainted with lies 



endless words


and words use to make others believe

and, do wrong, to there fellow man/woman

Details | Rhyme | |


Life is going great.
I've walked past the gate.
Let go of my fears,
stopped all of my tears.

I still have thoughts,
and I mean a lot, 
but I fight them
by thinking of him.

I smile at everyone,
remembering I'm not the only one.
I laugh everyday,
hoping it stays this way...

But I know it won't.
Please... Don't
let this moment go.
I know you will though...

You take things so lightly,
so I'm gonna steal this slightly.
I take the knife,
ready to end my life.

You finally realize that I'm not okay,
and finally speak up and say,
"Stay strong young lady.
Don't do something crazy."

My eyes start tearing up,
I need help standing up.
"Thank you, it's so hard...
When your heart is still in shards."

"I know, that's why we need to go slow.
We're here for you, you know?"
I've always known this.
I've just never been good at this.

Asking for help is not me,
but I need help, you see.
I've been doing good,
stopped cutting, and started eating food.

Let's keep it this way,
looking forward to a new day.
Smile like there's no tomorrow,
leave behind the sorrow.

Details | Free verse | |

Life After Midnight

Life After Midnight

Night after night I sit alone
I wait for the sun to rise to give me freedom
No one to talk to
The world sleeps at 4:20 AM
I watch reruns of Dr. Who
I play games on the computer
I write to a woman in Australia who has become my friend
Knowing she is there soothes my mind and allows me to think
The only life I see is a small rat devouring the cheese I left for him
He has become a pet despite the fact that I will never stroke his fur
I call him Doctor after the character on the TV screen
It is a silent world without ever a word being spoken
Occasionally an idea passes through my dying mind
I stop to write it down keystroke by keystroke
Will I remember it when the sun rises over distant mountains?
The seconds, minutes and hours drag by as if being held back
I know the world keep turning at its regular speed
One thousand miles an hour throughout the night
It’s 4:28 AM and I know the sun will be rising in two hours
I count down the time second by second
Then, once the sunlight fills my bedroom, I will be able to sleep
I will be able to dream until the sun sets in the west
Then I will write, watch TV and feed my pet rat
That is my life
Life without sun.
The life of my dreams

Details | Free verse | |


In the morning I open my eyes and I count
silently, dusting wrinkles
off the clock.
The perfect hour
when sleep is
more sweet.
At noon I open the information
to see
what level
they have put me in:
or have they deleted me?
I sprawl and open my big mouth.
My soul its out,
and now tears flow down
my cheeks with rage
on to the floor:
very precious dreams.
My wrath makes me scream.
My hands tremble on one blue wedge,
that was from a celebrity writer.
Somebody said if I wrote with him
I would be a celebrity, too.
If I had been born in Paris I would be a lady,
but I was born in a different world.
Better to forget who I am, sometimes.
I run with no identity on the bank of deep water.
Maybe it will swallow me
with all my ideas;
with all my words spoken (or not)
to strangers.
I will be free!

Details | Rhyme | |

Heart to Heart

My poetry comes from where it is dark
 From deep within the chambers of my heart
If not for the light of Christ I would not see
 The words within to write my poetry
What I write is true of life
 Triumph and mistakes alike
If you study what you read
 No explaination from me you'll need
For you will know what I impart
 It will travel from heart to heart

10 oct 2012  1:42 pm

Details | ABC | |

The Final Words

I remember many years ago, when I 
was just a lad,
My biggest hero in my life, happened 
to be my dad. 

I grew up with no siblings, in a 
happy home,
And daily as a child, I'd write  a story 
and a poem. 

I'd discuss how my day went and the 
things that I had done,
And put words to my feelings, be it 
happy, sad or fun. 

I'd keep them in a binder, tucked 
underneath my bed,
Well hidden from intruders, near 
where I'd rest my head. 

Many years later, as a teen, my 
parents separate. 
They tell me dads moving to another  

He decided to leave his family and 
work on his career,
Things hadn't been so good at home 
for well over a year. 

I hold in the tears, run upstairs and 
begin to write. 
About the terrible news I got, that 
late school  night. 

I rip out my binders, and sit quickly 
in my chair. 
I write "why do I do this, no one 
seems to care". 

I grab all my diaries, from my 
hidden stash,
 throw them in a garbage bag and 
take them out for trash. 

For many years I never took out a 
paper and pen,
I promised myself this day I would 
never write  again. 

I visit my dad often, til life gets in 
the way,
And visits turn to phone calls as we 
run outta things to say.

He would say that he loved me, I'd 
say I loved him too. 
But our conversations remained 
small, we were never really true.  

I get the dreaded  phone call in 
february '11,
God had come to take my dad and 
bring him up to heaven. 

I go through my dads stuff, and 
what defined his life,
Pictures of dead relatives, my family, 
his ex wife. 

I miss the times we had, even our 
silent talks,
Hidden in his closet, I pull out a big 

When I move the box,  I can't 
believe my eyes,
My family runs in the room, when 
they hear my sobbing cries. 

The writings I had thrown out so 
many years before. 
Were neatly piled behind the box, on 
the closet floor. 

I read through the pages, memories 
flood my mind,
My life as a child so neatly defined. 

I make it to the last page, I find 
written in blue, under "No one seems 
to care"
My Daddy wrote "I do"

Details | Free verse | |

The Secrets of Life

A hill is sat upon
Come and go
Breathe deeply
Feeling at peace
Mind explored
Watch as the sun passes
It sets

Details | Light Poetry | |


Dawn ! It breaks! A new born day
I hope there is a change in any sort of way
The sun it peaks through the puffy white clouds
As I sit and visualize - to see clearly
That my day I cherish ever so dearly
Deep in my hear - I hope I see imagery
Flattering through my brain! In my eyes
And promises I keep - I try to reach the skies
Yet indeed! Through the night I dream
And awake I see true colors of reality
That running through my soul - I gleam
With feelings towards my responsibility
A new day truly challenging it may then seem
I can never find the happiness deep inside me
It' all about you! Complicating my day
Dysfunctional  - you sure did shine
Today I challenge myself to overcome you
I see the beauty in my soul - permeates
It's deep inside - and beauteous thoughts
This in my deep set heart , still then creates
The words that come to mind - reflect
Down on my personality , it is the key
I'm breaking with the crack of dawn, a mood
You're a disadvantage in my heart
My skills I portray , my mind it may smooth
And my pen - strokes like that of the brush
As I put my mind to the test and color with hue
My art I put in words each born new day
Yet I still reach very few - must it be
That the darkness of the clouds shined down on me
As the sun peaks through, I'll cherish each thought
My mind thinks clearly and yet not distraught
I color my world with the pen, remembering when
I dreamed, I dream each born new day
And imagery, I see this in my mind today.
Words they intrigue me, pun ? Do I see?
I'm working with the sun in my eyes, with me.
We are both at our peak,  Then I speak!

Details | I do not know? | |

Who I am

7 Jan 2011  7:18 AM

Who I am well lets see
I am son to God who set me free

I am a scholar of sorts
I still study life and write reports

I am dad I have two girls
I love them so more than all the world

I am a freind to very few
And to those few I am very true

I am productive in my life
I produce in the words that I write

I am a writer and write I do
Of life experience and things that are true

I do not write of that which I don't know
I only write of life as I grow

Life on Purpose Live it before you lose it! ©2009

Details | Free verse | |


    What is it you do ,what do you write,
what words are there in your heart?
What thoughts are there in your mind?
Do feelings and the works that are eternal ,
come from the soul,the mind ,the heart..
Surely there was an inspiration,
to guide that hand as it penned a masterpiece.
If inspiration be of Love,
and that same Love cease to be.
If inspiration rides on the wings of loneliness,
and of a sudden there is happiness..
Will a strong heart write a humorous ditty,
as tears roll down their cheeks.
Thankyou friends who write while in turmoil,
post humor when saddened,
capture Love while alone.
Paint life that has yet to be lived.
Give all to the emotion of typing that next word,
for sharing a small piece of yourselves..........Jim

Details | Free verse | |

Logical Meets Illogical

Logical Meets Illogical 

Are we
ever happy
or  dumfounded
under hopes.

Always, questions
elude serious
investigations, bewilders
ordinary, acknowledged

Alarming solutions, 
explanations to
intricate queries, 
obviously will

Antonyms come, 
enthralling, philosophical
in nature
once realized,

Suzanne Delaney

Vow / Con Challenge

Details | Couplet | |

We are Pregnant Pencils

We are nothing but pencils without eraser,
 And life a big book, not made up of papers.
 Our footprint on life is our sorry or success story,
 How we walk determines our gloom or glory.
We are pencils meant to draw lines and links
 With either an invisible or indellible ink.
 Our blueprints are in three stages and structures:
 Our past pages, present prints and future features.
Our past pages cannot be completely erased,
 Trying to re-write on them makes them defaced.
 My friend, close that chapter and write a new one;
 Each new day presents a new page to write on.
Our present prints are presented in timely chances…
 How we chose to embrace cheers and challenges,
 Taming tears, tending our tender treasures;
 Each day is a brick or broom to our future.
The future’s features are loads of incredible art,
 You can only view them when we open our heart:
 Your dreams present platform to play your part.
 Dream big with the little you have and dare to start.
We are priceless pencils and life is our paper;
 What we write makes our lives bitter or better.
 Refusal to write does not make the world stagnant;
 It only makes a man’s page dormant though pregnant.
We are nothing but pregnant pencils without erasers,
 Impregnated by places, people and… higher powers,
 Yet what we write carries our copyright,
 We cannot erase, so write to your delight.
Copyright (c) 2012 by Adeleke Adeite.

Details | Rhyme | |

This world and me.

You breathe to live,
I live to exhale,
I cant seem to hold anything in,
In this world i find nothing i give.
Even if the stubborn stay stale.
I can never loose because i know ill never win.

You turn on streets that look the best,
I walk down roads that lead to purpose,
I cant hold down lies that stay salty,
In this world the scheme is to be like the rest.
Even if to you my choices seem worthless.
I think that practical pleasure is faulty.

You write for people who want to be pleasured,
I write to stay untainted,
You jump feet you haven't measured.
I imagine pictures that haven't been painted.

Details | Rhyme | |

Paid With A Smile

I don't write for fame or fortune
Or even to set myself free
I don't even care if it's good or bad
I write of the things I see

I look with a different pair of eyes
A different point of view
For that's what poetry is all about
Showing what I see to you

It's all about letting someone see
Things in a brand new way
"That's something I've never thought about"
I strive to hear them say

Sometimes it can even change their minds
By something they've read or heard
Wouldn't it be great to change the world
Through the power of a single word?

I really don't care about the money
For that's just not my style
Instead of all the fame and fortune
I'd rather be paid with a smile

Details | Verse | |

Work and Play

When will I ever have time for fun
It feels as if it has been a century since I have seen the sun
I work all day,
Sometimes all night
I am so tired of this endless cycle already
And it is just begun
Will I ever have time again for fun?
For smiles, and the sun?
They say if you work hard,
Than you play hard
Work and play
And work and play
Will that help take the pain away?
Probably not, guess I’ll just go smoke some pot
What can I do?
What can I say?
That will help this pain go away?
I’ve taken all the pills
And done all the drugs
But still my secrets are swept under the rug
What can I do
When no one else is like you.
But now, I am not playing at all
I feel like all I do is fall
Or maybe just give up too easily.
Sometimes my thoughts are just like an infectious disease
The world doesn't see what they do to me
Am I happy, or 
Am I sad?
Why do I get so very mad.
Do you see the light?
No, not yet.
But one day it’ll shine,
Shine happily upon  I 

Details | Free verse | |

Short Wicks and Crochet Needles Don't Ignite a Flame

We are a crooked spinal cord,
unfixable scoliosis ,
intertwining our vertebrae,
broken back bone,
solid case of we just don’t keep each other upright anymore.

We are an accordion,
swiftly dividing and reconnecting.
The sounds of harmonicas, claps,
and the flicks of lighters
whistle at our performance of dysfunction-
Always parting as soon as we meet,
never meeting long enough to just be,
sort out things or carry on
because in a split second we are always gone.
Come back to me,
stay for a while and sing,
listen to the harp players finger pads strum amazingly.

You are a meteorite,
falling into my orbit,
puncturing the lung of my atmosphere.
You are a candles wick that is too short,
extinguishing my flame with your loss of words.
Silence and darkness,
harsh and bitter,
not willing to take the chance and just let be burn bright,
fill up the room with my light.
You let me die.

I am a crochet needle,
bending the yarn of you,
weaving together your threads 
to make you something that you’re not.
Maybe you were meant to change,
and I was meant to stay the same,
but our coping skills don’t cooperate,
and we put too much water in the flask,
diluting the chemicals.
There was no reaction.

We are a dance without a song,
offbeat drumming,
fingerless strumming,
out of place humming,
creatures that are becoming nothing.

We are a broken mood ring,
scratched record,
dull pencil,
chipped car paint,
two humans that just aren’t programmed to be together.

Maybe if crochet needles could light the wick of a candle,
or maybe if we didn’t step on each other’s toes when we danced,
or maybe if we calculated our chemistry correctly,
we could start a reaction.
And maybe I’m just making up excuses,
trying to find reasoning behind the puzzles pieces not fitting,
trying to discover something that will never be there.

But I have come to find that short wicks and crochet needles don’t ignite a flame.

Details | Rhyme royal | |


                                              READING POETRY ON A RAINY DAY

                                             On the page, the white declines,

                                            Love of phrase enlivens night--

                                             Images patrol my mind,

                                             Words become the key to sight.

                                             Vanished is my world by schedules set.

                                             Conquered by the Poet’s words--

                                             Persons vibrant this way met

                                             While my true life flies with wayward birds.

                                             Time and passion are contained

                                             Graced within the page in hand--

                                             Bathed in sun while garden rained--

                                             Wander I from sea to land.

                                            What more glorious can life be

                                            Astonished with the gift of flight--

                                           Transforms a bookworm lass like me--

                                           Sword in hand --   blood lust to fight?

Victoria Anderson-Throop  2013

Details | Lyric | |

Songwriting(I write these words)

I write these words
I wrote my feelings out
The words filled with my thoughts
Is what I am all about

I write these words
Explains everything in me
Explains how I feel
In the words that sings

I write these words
It came out from my head
I am becoming more scared
When I stuck dead

I write these words
Open myself to the world of my own
To where I have never been
In the world of songwriting

I write these words
I write with my heart out
My blood, tears and happiness
Is what I am all about

With these words I wrote
It filled with what I feel
Is what I want to be
A songwriter, that will be me

And these are the words I wrote

Details | Rhyme | |

Why I write

I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people’s mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God’s face

Details | Couplet | |

God's Goodness 2

I knew not Lord, the day I came,
you'd change my heart, then my name.
You'd write it in your book of life,
through you I'd conquer daily strife.

That day I surrendered my all to you,
I knew not what you'd have me do.
I started to sing and write and pray,
I've learned to lean on you each day..

I understood it not that day,
when like a child I knelt to pray.
I didn't know the why or how,
I only saw your blood stained brow.

I saw your hands, your bleeding side,
I wondered why for me you died?
I had not known such great a love,
as came that day from up above.

I knew that day you'd made a winner
from one lost soul and wretched sinner.
That is why I'll never tire you see,
of telling others what you've done for me.

Details | Free verse | |

Self reflection part 2

So I sit here and self reflect going through the lessons I was taught and forced to 
spit out the right answers I disagreed with and now have the chance to say Hitler 
was the victim
and in Vietnam there was no hero but a cleansing of getting rid of thousand of 
serial killers desperate for the love of an abusive god they didn’t know how to 
stand up against who wanted someone to blame
 When we write the next history book of lies about today’s liars and propaganda 
and confusion
And if I could sneak into the history pages
What lessons would I try to teach the students of a continent to say you don’t 
have to have church in school for there to be a god 
Look at me look at me
Figure out my riddle
If you’re that brave but write down the wrong answer or you’re in trouble
And then wait to find like-minded individuals

What lesson would I teach the world using all of the world’s actors?
Me as everybody’s fool
So the spiritually impoverished could study one chapter of history and walk away
with their hands full of gems and spiritual crowns and realize
they now have a test of psychology to figure out all the pieces of their world
to under stand the script we have written for them
and who amongst them are false and true prophets either playing along or who 
knows what domino is going to catastrophically going to fall

What’s the perfect act for my actors with me to carry them into history?
If I could just sneak in
But how do I get in there?
How do I show them history doesn’t care if you’re skinny or fat?
Ugly or beautiful
Stupid or smart

Do I care what essays the might write about me in the future if I was to make it in 
comparison to our politicians
Would there be a whole course in school called figuring out the world’s scripts 

I could change the world if you let me
And in all honest as I protest some things here and there
You are another domino
and a piece of my claim to my fame
and maybe one day it will be someone else
but 27 years of serenading me and stealing my dreams
Id rather have lived my hell on earth for a reason of where vie cried for the world
and had the confusion as to why my names are songs to be for good
then to be jealous of a man who spent three days in my shoes and was crucified
for trying to live a lie
But ignorance is bliss

Details | Bio | |


considering the inanity of writing a poem
 without  any idea  of a subject
  to write about has not deterred me 
from blindly filling the first sentence with words of little or no value.
Now that the fingers (two)
 flicker over the key board as if they know
 where the letters are, I  become relaxed
 and so confident  that eventually I'll  reach coherency
 enough to delete all this  conflict 
of  four muses dancing through my head at once. 

The music is madcap enough for me to recognize
 the bag pumping arm of Harry the Hairy, which reminds me I neglected
 to clean my gun today after emptying it twice yesterday on the target range.
 I bet if I'd hit it  I'd have cleaned that  gun by now. 
It was all a ruse to keep me away from the house
 while  guests were arriving for my belated surprise birthday party.
On  roars this epistle of fruitless furious endeavor
 to construct something worthy of my fantastic literary expertise. 

I have totally given up on trying to upload the three or four poems
 I've recorded in spoken voice on the Garage Band section of this Mac 
and switched over to the i tunes section after hours of unsuccessful attempts to do so.
 Only to discover that Evoca wants some other form of technical language to upload them in.
 Learning to sail, drive, operate several large pieces of heavy machinery,
 raise children or watch them grow up into almost perfect
 examples of American womanhood, is of absolutely no value in recognizing 
which  button to press next. 
There must be an almost teen wandering by
 who can do what I need in seconds
 but as soon as he realizes how inept I am 
he'll tell the world and my reputation
 of competency will be shattered for all time,
 and we do have to live here.
 I shall probably come up with some semblance of treachery
 to combat this newly developed inability.

 Maybe something like
 I prefer to stay in the traditional misty romanticism of pure poetry 
rather than lowering myself to  sputtering into a machine or microphone like some 
despicable rhyming miming puff daddy
 rapper tapper clapper where's the money stand up clown. 
Then again if I should suffer a break through
 and actually be able to add spoken word to my repertoire,

Ill be at another extreme disadvantage in this war of faces.
 Who the hell do I know 
who can help me overcome this temporary setback 
in my illustrious poetic career?
I think I'll go back to boat design
 or stonemasonry. 
Maybe even write a novel.

Details | Rhyme | |


If I could be a poet
And write like poets do
I'd write a whole book of poems
And dedicate it to you

I'd write about lost love
And dreams that don't come true
If I could be a poet
And write like poets do

I'd write such pretty pictures
With words of every hue
If only I could be a poet
And write like poets do

I don't want to move mountains
Or swim the ocean blue
I just want to be a poet
And write like poets do

Details | Verse | |

The poet.

The poet in me’s private and reserved for here and now
To express myself in normal life, I never quite knew how

The words I write are heartfelt and can cut straight to the bone
I write of thoughts and feelings that only I can own.

If ideas of that I dream could not find life in rhyme
The person that I could have been would just be lost in time

A life that’s kept on record in thinly picture painting meaning
All my raw emotions spilling out, with very little screening 

I share my life with readers that will never truly know me
With words that open up a side, that real life will not see.

Is the poet that lives in others the same that lives in me?
Does he hide your true persona, leaving you anonymously free?

The poet in me’s cunning; some words not always true.
But what you see is all you get. The rest left up to you.

Details | Rhyme | |

Insignificant Matters

To write a poem of which make a person change
is not so insignificant and strange
Without those people things will always be the same
then their would be the blaming game
I write this poem to the Insignificant out their
because they do not deserve the bad stare

To write a poem of which make a person change
is not so insignificant and strange
Without those people we would not be guessing
people would just plane stressing
I do understand how feeling are
because I do stare into the star

To write a poem of which make a person change
is not so insignificant and strange
Without those people we could not be our selves
people would just give up and leave things on shelves
I do think people that is insignificant are life batter
because everyone in life is not insignificant they all matter

Details | Free verse | |


Occasionally I write
sometimes of happiness
others of questions or doubts
To write helps some
away for me to get things out
or sometimes it is other's problems
I write out
It makes it easier to write 
since I am not the best talker
I do not always share my writings
for I know some will not be understood
and perhaps others would be misunderstood.

Details | Light Poetry | |

My Open Book

When I write these words from my mind...
Its deep inside my heart I search and find...
Each write has a piece of me written throughout...
Some may express a time of anger and a shout...
Others could be about lost love or a new one found...
All these poems are a part of my soul with no bound...
They tell of tales of passion and heartache which 
helped me grow...
A few are just a morning thoughts or a pile of words I 
throw up in the air and blow...
While a few still have strong feeling of loss or being alone...
However it comes out , my book is now open and this heart
is now warm not made of stone..

Details | Light Poetry | |

Poet or Not

I dont know if im a poet or not 
i dont know if what i write makes sense
all i know is i have to write whats in my head
i cant control it but i know i love it
i dont know if you understand it or your confused by it
but it's just me
i feel alone at times like im the only one
for noone really understands  
i live in my head yes it's true but if i didnt then i wouldnt be able to write for you
is this my gift in life i really dont know
but it's all i'm good at so i guess so...

Details | I do not know? | |

The Root of Inspiration

I set out on a quest today,
Compelled to write a poetic story,
I thought perhaps I’d write about,
The mind in its’ infinite glory,
While philosophizing life
I wondered, what is inspiration?
So I continued on my noble journey,
Through the minds vast imagination,
I was full of motivation,
As I made my faithful way,
And neurological obstacles,
Kept getting in my way,
Soaring through the universe,
I came unto a vibrant light,
As i set my hand upon it,
I was filled with divine insight,
The gleaming light then vanished,
And an angel had appeared,
Dressed in a robe of white,
Dawned with a halo in her hair,
A silky voice then asked me,
Is it knowledge you require?
She said again as if she’d known,
Then ask what you desire,
I was wondering where it was,
That inspiration is derived,
Then as I came unto the light,
I’d understood as I arrived.

Copyright © 2009 Zachary Jackson

Details | Dramatic Verse | |


I'm writing this in pencil, Because that's the way it should be, Faint and easily erasable, Knowing that it will never last forever, That's the way life should be. Then as we write our history down, We can take back, We can rub off, All our mistakes, All the wrong turns we make. But we need these mistakes, To make us who we are, To make me a better me, To make you a wiser you, To really live and learn. I thus so pick up a pen, you must so pick up a chisel, As I write mine down on parchment, You etch yours out in stone, And we never again live our lives in pencil.

Details | Free verse | |

I've Dreamt

I’ve dreamt of a time,
When I could drink clean water,
I’ve dreamt of a time,
When I could eat clean food,
I’ve dreamt of a time,
When people would be able to see,
That all should be treated equally,
I’ve dreamt of a time,
Without sorrow,
Always telling myself “It will come tomorrow.”
I’ve dreamt of a time,
Without war,
For it fills the shore with bodies of those I adore,
I’ve dreamt of a time,
When I wasn’t looked at,
As just being some black,
I’ve dreamt of a time,
When I wasn’t looked upon by the ignorant,
As being some illegal immigrant,
I've Dreamt

-Jerome L. Kidd Jr.

Details | ABC | |

Knife and Lust

Walking these streets of manhattan so aimlessly 
All alone in the dark only lights by the city shops 
I'm scared alone feeling out of love now lost the knife was rough 
You stabbed me in the back all I can do is Cry on my knees veins hot as fire 
With mixed emotions running through 
It's Like this dagger killing me more inside all this love and all this hate burns me away 
Deep inside passion urning for another lusting after another 
As if I were a lion in a jungle taking that prey and burning up with tense desire 
It's like a knife with loves wounds after the lust 
This is very hard for me in a world you left me bleeding alone 
Never picked me up left my heart to die out 
With my tears hitting the city pavement times like this just burns me away 
Love can go off like a loaded gun a love  vanishes just like a knife with lust 
-- by Brian OToole jr. 

Details | Lyric | |

I Must Write

I woke up one morning with a pen by the head rest -
Then write down my dreams while I'm smelling the breakfast -
My brother Jibri is up setting his headset -
My mother yelling down the stairs, "hey have you left yet?" -
I go back to the room and pick up my notepad -
And close that page where I wrote about my broke dad -
It was a poem after that page 4 raps -
Got 60 sheets left in 10 days won't hold smack -
Everyday I write I couldn't in the past -
Back then the master would've put a woopin' on my back  -
Cooking up a rap driving while I'm looking through this glass -
When I do my track I have to put them on the map -
And so I live like tomorrow's my dying day -
I know if I succeed mirrors holding my crying face -
I must write and put my life on a line a day -
And if I have no pens I'll write in blood, I'll find a way -

I need to write about Martin Luther King's dreams -
Born prophet turned preacher teaching real things -
I need to write about the Black Panther Party -
And what that black glove meant and how it got started -
I need to write about how valuable hip hop is -
No matter if I die right now it's not stopping -
I need to write about my life and my hard times -
Scarred minds will soon see the light, provail from hard grinding -
I must write about Bush and the government -
And how these soldiers are dying and these weapons aren't discovered -
I need a pen so I can write about my lover -
And how she's my best friend and how much I love her -
I wanna write about women and more -
But I know I won't see it at the end of the road -
I need a deal but I won't write about that -
And when I'm done I'll recite and come back, and write again -

Details | Free verse | |

To my husband with love

 You've given me about everything I've ever asked for
Thats why I want to tell you dear each day I love you more.

If I could turn back the hands of time theres one thing I would erase
and that would be all the worry lines I've put upon your sweet face.

You've been my friend through all these years
the only true one I've had.

You've been there by my side to comfort 
me when things were going bad.

And rho life's not been easy it never was meant to be
I wanted you to know sweetheart your everything to me.

I've almost lost you many times,but God has pulled us through
hes given us another chance to live our  life all new.

Theres just one thing in this whole world
I'd really love to do. and that one thing to me
sweetheart is to live my life with you.

your wife
with love

( this was written to my grandpa... we never discovered this poem  until the day 
she passed away. It fell from a  photograph of her and my sister... ( the picture 
was tooken when my sister was little). We framed it and  had it placed in the 
living room.... January 2nd  2008 my house caught fire  and we practically lost 
everything  especially  this only  poem written to grandpa by his wife ( grandma). 
Lucky before the fire one year  in 2006  I had the chance to  write it down  and  
place among my   poems... When I  read this poem I  grew the   ability to write my 
own... like I have a  piece of my grandma in me. and I just want to tell her I miss 
her and  love her  "R.I.P. grandma Evans aka Teeny  9/11/1934- 9/8/1999")

Details | I do not know? | |


A reply, to a request for information, in an e-mail I was asked, “How can I write a 
cool story?” This was my reply to him and my reply to you.

Sir, I apologize for my thoughts of ignoring your query. If you truly want to know, I 
shall tell you. The cost is dear let me make that clear, but there is nothing we should 
fear. The road seems hard, as inches we must travel. I do not know if this will help 
but it is the truth.

Passion: I will make an assumption-something I hate to do- and assume you are 
young. I will tell you true what you must do if I may be so bold. For I speak from the 
ages of wise, wise sages, as I grow ever old.

A man, I once thought wise, he bravely said it so. In life and strife there is a path 
with but four ways to go. For in life you see four ways to be, work, hustle, steal or 
deal. For a long time I thought I had been taught insight true and real. We were 
both fools that day, as I heard him say these words of lost dreams and schemes. 
For only one can bring the fun of reaching for our dreams. What is that way you ask 
this day, so I must truly say? Work is the word so often heard and applies to all we 
see. The goals we choose, we must never lose if some day we ere be free. So listen 
close and I shall disclose all that needs to be. 

Passion is the road to take if ever we are to see.

Do not let life pass you by, do not prejudge...experience and feel. If writing a cool 
story is what you passionately want to do then write of that passion. Write of a 
man whose only dream is to write. Write of that need to write. If your passion is the 
cloning of mice write of that passion, and lastly if you have no passion, get a job

Details | I do not know? | |


Words Words can make you hurt, Words can make you cry. Words can make you laugh, 
Words can make you try. Words can change you and Words can make act wrong. Words 
can hurt others. But words that hurt are nothing new. Words with action is. Because some 
actions can hurt and make pain come. Some actions can make you feel happy and loved. 
Some actions can get you down the wrong road. But whatever happens, with words or 
actions Remember that friends and people have feelings Try listening to them Friends can 
make you laugh when your sad. They can catch you when you fall. No friend lets you die Or 
leaves you in a dark corner to cry. Friends are angels from above. They are there for you. 
So if their is one thing from this that you remember is should be this, Don't say your my 
friend one moment, Then hurt me and leave me to die the next.

Details | Rhyme | |


It’s raining so hard outside
and the wind is blowing too
As I look out of the window
the dark clouds spoil my view.

I’m feeling a little bit bored
wondering what I can do.
So with my pen, I’m trying
to write a word or two.

I’d like to write a little poem
but I don’t know how to start.
I could write about the weather
or just something from the heart.

Maybe I should try really hard
to make my poem rhyme.
But that could be rather difficult
it could take me quite some time.

I wonder if I could write a love poem
but that could be really hard too
Maybe it should be a bit funny
oh I don’t know what to do!

You know what, I’m fed up now
my pen is starting to hover.
Writing poetry is far too hard
so I don’t think I’m going to bother.

Details | Lyric | |

Same Boat

I woke up this morning and I took my breath,
prayed to Allah that I took that step.
Making it's hard but I cooked what's left
and saved the rest for the family
can of peas
that I took off the shelf,
you understanding me.
I have dreams so everyday I stand and freelance styles
it's been the same process sense I was a child now,
I write a song every other day the other days
I discover ways to put a buck in the bank hussling.
We all struggling, financially I hate
to see my mom stumbling loosing her job again.
Forget sobbing when the times get tough,
put in overtime at my job
dimes stack up, it's not enough....listen.
Bills rack up out my checks they take half
I spend the rest on food and music you do the math.
Everyday is like another step taken,
we're in the same boat all trying to make it.

I know it's people that think it's fine where I'm at,
but they haven't seen through the eyes of Iraq.
Suicide bombers take lives they die fast,
even little kids hold knives that slice back
at US militants, orders from Bin Laden
land hold killers even innocents get blasted.
Car bombs go off,
youngen buying bread for mother
gets his leg blown off for him it's so hard.
That life I want no part so Allah
I fight through life writting like I've been
struck by the venom of white vipers.
Might not see the next day the best way
to write until I'm dead face
down shot up from tech spray.
I live and die for the music
it's all love don't try to confuse it.
Until then don't judge my soul, I know
you know the feeling let's roll we in the same boat.

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetical children of the world

Poetical children of the world

We are the children…
Globally known
From seeds of wisdom
But never cloned
Originiquely designed individually
Expressing beautiful gifts of poetry
Kind-hearted thoughts
Linger from our minds
To our pens 
Filling paper with knowledge…
We are the children…
Giving to you all of us
From deep within our skin
Every single rhyme
That’s saving our lives – “LITERALLY”
It’s our choice 
To make the world a better “society”
We stand proud to “ONLY”
Give you the “best of the best poetry”

By: Aleasha Martin

Details | Lyric | |

The Scribble's Purpose

Wonder, wonder, wonder.
Is this the one sight?
When looking at the black blue of falling night
Or upon the sun’s brilliant breaking light?

Wonder, wonder, wonder.
Is all flavored so?
Whether exquisite cuisine, Italiano
Or simple apple of radiant red glow?

Wonder, wonder, wonder.
Is this alone what is heard?
From the noise of soft electronic purr
To the powerful orchestra and its reverb?

Wonder, wonder, wonder.
Is this the one aroma alone?
The smell of the country, its own song
To the fragrance of cooking in one’s own home.

Wonder, wonder, wonder.
Is this all that is felt?
The softness of the mink, his pelt
To the suffering of possible pains dealt.

No, nay, again, not at all.
Same for all is the reality.
But I want to tell what it looks like to me.
I know that I know I see no differently.

Objective perspective; true reality.
I will to describe what is already known.
But words cannot tell what is clearly shown.
No, words cannot describe the wonders of this life, our own.

I write as I write in hopes numbered one.
The dream is that I may do justice some.
Justice to the beauty that is life,
With all the victories, pains, and strife.

I write as I write to maybe, possibly, if only just once
Paint the world with words and show its brilliance 

Details | Free verse | |


Greetings from the RedKnuckle Storyteller,you may find he;s ann odd kind of feller.
Though he'll do his best to write from the heart,and what you don't like you may always tear 
apart.You see,this storyteller has lived an awful life.A life without family,children,a beautiful 
wife.Now some may say my poetry expresses my pain,others say it's a release in anger I 
gain.Personally I write about a society in grief,so many hurting with no sign of relief.I am so 
proud of every man,woman,child from these hoods,for when it comes to unity and strive they 
truly deliver the goods.With the streets getting younger every day,what's a careing man do 
but kneel down and pray.These are our children out there,so who's in charge to step up and 
care..It pains me, that i'm but a single voice heard.who's only given inspiration is sometimes 
a single word.Now go find a drink and a comfortable chair.For we are about to embark on a 
poetry journey where others would'nt dare.

Dedicated to all the missing Women in Vancouvers lower East end.


Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Stains

The words I write are best defined
As tiny pieces of soul
Trapped within my troubled mind
An ache I can't console

The memories and the heartaches
Dripping through my pen
Tell the stories of my mistakes
And regret I feel within

They will tell you who I am today
And what I used to be
They'll tell you all I have to say
If you'll look carefully

The words I write are lifetime earned
Through joy, strife and pain
Memories of the things I've learned
Are now my paper's stain

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Santa Please Write My Mama A Letter For Me

Santa, please write a letter to my mama for me.
Make it short and sweet, like the honey in her tea.
Could you tell her that I love her in the letter, and
tell her I appreciate all she does to make my life
Santa, please, would you write my mama a letter?

Tell her I am sorry for every tear I made fall from
her eyes.
Tell her that I am sorry for those awful pack of
lies...the ones she said nearly broke her heart...
Tell her I never thought I could also hurt from
the pain I brought to her life,
because of me, she said she had failed as a
mother and a wife...

But it is no so, tell her so she will know it wasn't
her fault pop up and left one Christmas morning,
long before the sun had come up...
Santa, he took your cookies and milk,
leaving a note saying that his cup
had just run over and over...

Santa, in the letter for my mama, please
tell her that I had to leave but I'll be back
some day,
but right now it is best if I just go away...
Time to grow up and stand on my own,
tell her I know God will be with her and
She won't be alone.

I pray God will continue to bless her and hold her 
in his loving care,
I left you some more milk and cookies Santa,
In the living room, when you get there.
I am no longer angry because you didn't come
when I was a little child,
You and my pop have been gone for a long,
long while.

Now Santa, my mama's house is at the end
of the road,
with one lone candle in the window upstairs,
so when my pop comes back, he'll know that she still cares.
Santa, please write my mama a letter and
tell her its from the one she said she'd love
forever and ever,
No matter what!
Signed your friend, who now sees the light.

P.S. Santa, would you please tie the letter to my mama, with a big red bow and seal it with a kiss from the kid you forgot one Christmas, long ago.

Details | Free verse | |

words for the wise

living for someone else and not yourself can cause trouble. They might not be there to catch you when you stumble . Live for today and not tomorrow . Forget about the pain and the sorrow . Have your own back and don't become a dummy . Never back down and don't become phony . You only get one life to live so choose wisely . Can't trust no one , shame what this world can do to so many people they fell for the tricks of the evil . Rise above them all and stay positive . You live for your actions not for the power . life is simple its just not easy so look out for the traps and take it easy .

Details | Rhyme | |

Honestly read this and become aware

We don't see it in our everyday lives.
Its not one of our husbands or wives. 
We don't think about it on our daily drives. 
I'm here to tell you about the few who survives. 

I'm not talking about cancer or some disease.
Its about something that goes on in our borders and over seas. 
We need to wake up and walk out of our caves,
because I'm talking about human trafficking and human slaves. 

I know its not something you want to talk about, 
but its here and all around, no doubt. 
Everything I write in this poem is nothing but true. 
It is as hard to write as it is to read, I assure you. 

In several countries, girls are sent out on a date. 
They are sent out at the young age of eight. 
No one around to hear their cries in their vicinity. 
When a forty year old man steals her virginity. 

These girls are ripped from their homes and families and sold. 
They can never talk about it, so their stories go untold. 
It is disgusting to write this and talk about this crime, 
but in some countries, it costs a quarter to sleep with a girl for her first time. 

Then with no anesthesia and no pain medication, she sees a surgeon. 
She is sown back up and sold to another nation, as a virgin. 
Now this next story was told to me in session and is perturbing.
I am a counselor and when she told it to me, I even found it disturbing. 

An 11 year old girl and her 13 year old sister were sold as objects. 
They were sold for their bodies and for sex. 
When the 13 year old was ordered to go with a man to bed, 
she refused, and her 11 year old sister saw her get shot in the head. 

Sadly, that isn't the worst thing I've been told. 
But these girls, always close to my heart is where I hold. 
I wrote this so you people can open up your eyes. 
So you people know whats going on, and so you can hear, the unheard cries.

Details | I do not know? | |

Inner Fear

Your in a room.
There are no windows.  No lights. 
Your tied up and blinded by a fabric.
You hear a voice.  It says your name.
You try to scream.  Your mouth is tapped.
Are you going to die?
Warmth stings your chest.  Pain appears as if called from the bottem of hell.
You start to hear a man's laughter.  Sickly and dangerous.
You feel weak.  Your body starts to grow numb.  
Why is he doing this?
He speaks again.  He says your name.
You feel his breath kiss your face as he talked.
The smell of his drink makes you dizzy.
You feel a blade on your neck.  
Then....You feel nothing.

Details | Rhyme | |

id like too

before I pass through the moon and stars, I would like too have a family in the woods, by a creek hearing birds chirping as they stay in the trees I'll tell my children that there talking bout you, when the night comes we will count all the stars see how full the sky is and pray for a shooting star when you go to bed I'll stir up some hot chocolate and surprise them in their room, how great it is to have these things when your fast asleep in peace.

Raymond Geisel- id like too

Details | Rhyme | |

Is This Not What We Believe ?

Jesus Alone, the One True Hope
for the hearts and lives of men.
How grand and monumental the scope
of lives being born again.

This Kingdom life is what I write of
in that God shows us the way.
To enter this life is to know Christ’s Love;
that my words lift Him, I pray.

This seems to be a repeated theme; 
once more I write of His Love.
History’s true hope for lives redeemed,
this One from Heaven above.

Yes, there have been good men who have lived
from past times up to this day.
But not one of them has life to give 
except for life’s One True Way.

Jesus, the Way the Truth and the Life,
is this not what we believe ?
In Him is found the end of all strife
and the promise of all we’ll receive.

Details | Prose Poetry | |

to The Public

Not really a poem, but the truth of my being.

To the Public
June 28, 2011

When I write the words just flow. I get an inspiration or a thought and have to write it down. 
Why, I do not know.  They just flow and all follow a story.  I write my innermost thoughts with 
the deepest passion imaginable and all are TRUE life experiences which have occurred in my life. 
I am diagnosed Severe Bipolar Disorder and disabled and draw SSDI. I no longer have to work 
from over 40 yrs in Maintenance and 2 degrees in Electronics and Electrical maintenance. I do 
draw disability now for over 2 yrs time and depression is a daily bout which I face every day, 
but try to be positive. The medicine I take is for my head and helps with mood swings and 
depression. As to date, I cannot read many of my works as I Bawl like a baby at most of 
them.  I remember when and how I felt when I wrote them.  But all of them follow a story to 
the end.  I cannot recite a single one because once written they are gone, otherwise they eat 
my Brain.  I am crying now as I write this and divulge my deepest thoughts and experiences of 
my life. I feel better now that it is gone from my head folks.  When a situation arises, I just 
know which ones will deserve recognition to be told.  I suffer from arthritis on my left side, my 
hands hurt all the time, and I practice herbal medicine for the pain.  I create my own remedies 
from my herbologist named Daryl Collins here in Okmulgee, he gives me the herbs and I am 
the guinea pig first and foremost for the experience.  Anyone else who suffers from this can 
contact me at  I am willing to tell you the recipe for my
Creations.  I hope all appreciate this testimony of mine.  All I say is true to fact.
							William Lewis Moore
							June 28, 2011

Details | Free verse | |

I was going to write you a poem

I was going to write you a poem
but my cat lay in the road.
I scraped up his remains with a shovel
paced them in a plastic bag,
dropped it into a dumpster.

I was going to write you a poem
but in my fridge is a half can of cat food,
with a cellophane lid,
useless and taking up space. 

Details | Free verse | |

The Block

I'm just stuck.

Here with my pen
and an empty
piece of paper....feel me.
Wondering should I write
a love poem?
And if so in what form.

I'm thinking should I write
a poem for single mothers?
Should I write a poem
for the other
people in this world
who can't write a poem?

I'm stuck on this BLOCK
where writers dwell,
a place where I can't exit
and I can't excell.

Sometimes though I can't write
on writer's BLOCK,
I can't build a rhyme,
I can't script a line,
I can't expand my mind
unless I'm modivated by
someone who's one of a kind.

I train writing quatrains on a train
riding through the rain in spain.

Welcome to the BLOCK!

I've finally found the exit,
though so many U-Turns
and detours and dead ends.

I'm am now free........from the BLOCK..........

Details | Free verse | |

Beating Your Drum

Be yourself, good and bad
Express your pain, sing your songs

Open up to the world around you
Dance in the light, lurk in the shadows

Run in the forest and swagger through the city streets

Seek eternal love, turn your back on others

Be notorious, draw attention to yourself
Be silent and watch people as they do their silly people things

Write and write and write then burn it all. After that write some more and share it with everyone

Travel to places you’ve never been
Make new friends in the places you’ve seen all your life

Question everything even when you’re told not to. What do they know anyway? No one has all the answers, not even half

Paint a picture of a mundane scene and insert your own beauty

Create past the point of boredom. Create past the point of criticism

Laugh in the face of naysayers. Show them what courage is. Cry when it feels right, trust me you’ll know

Love like there is no tomorrow because you never know when their won’t be

Details | Free verse | |

Being and Living

There is a difference between “being” and “living”. You won’t always be able to act a certain way all of the time, because we make mistakes, but you can always strive to live better each day. It’s easy for us to “be” in love, because it makes you feel really good at that time, but to “live” in love is a daily expression of your spirit that you’ll know is true even on days when you may be feeling bad. That’s what keeps me grounded every day: knowing that regardless of how people may feel towards me, I will love them anyway because it’s how I live.

Details | Epic | |

Titanic Letters contest

I write this poem from my heart
As I set off on my fresh new start
A woman of the age of nineteen
Leaving her family for this American dream
With just this napkin and worn out ink
I rest this night under Gods eyes and think
Of all that I am leaving behind
To make sure my little boy and I will be just fine
The ticket cost more than we could afford
But while the captain said "all aboard"
I knew it was my last chance to truly live
And have a chance to someday give
These little hands the ability to play
Lord give us strength is what I pray
From nine to two im committed to dine
On deck with musical fingers that chime
Then again at six for dinner time
Seriate this ship while they enjoy evening wine
Though they will make money off me
My only song and melody
Will sound across the ocean floor
Free at last my wings shall finally soar
And when he’s older he will understand
A mother’s love and faithful hands
Directed his destiny to new borders
While voyaging on still waters
When he’s grown he will know no lack
For all his wealth will be in tact
I end this write until part two
My payment now I must pursue,
Day three on this exquisite sea
The people have been quite nice to me
They house me and my angel all for free
While I keep playing so eloquently
I know we will soon be there
A man offered us to stay in his care
All if I will teach his wife
To dance on zebra keys with abundent life
The lavish life I can plainly see
Never again will we feel pity,
Why are people screaming upstairs?
Ill finish my line for down here I’m unaware
This poem I keep sown in his pocket
For my son you will look back and it will be your cherished locket...

I sit here and look at all my land,
I wish for a moment I was still in your hands,
Dear mother you sacrificed your life for me,
That night our ship of dreams lost its identity,
Now grown and wise,
With your gental green eyes,
This piece of you is all I got,
As I write, my stomach is in knots,
Even though I was only two,
I remember all that you went through,
Wrapping me in a little tote,
Slipping me in that safety boat,
For many had to stay on deck,
While the ocean engulfed that wreck,
And only the rich could really survive,
Dear mother I was your wealth that’s how you kept me alive,
You have never left my sleeves,
I keep your words sown as part of me,
I know that you’re playing For God and all his angelic bliss
I end this journal entry with a cherished kiss.

By; Sabina Nicole
Titanic contest

Details | ABC | |


Successful is what I long to be
I am proud of what accomplishments I have made
Everyone says to write a story of my life
Really is life this hard for all?
Ready, for a challenge that I can try
Always trying to stay positive even in times of struggles

Clueless to where life shall take me
Already a mother at 17
Ready to write at a moments notice
Trying to succeed in life
Excited to know God
Responsible for what I have done

Details | Free verse | |

Why write when you can pray ?

Writing is a form of prayer, the writer makes with  his pen.
He puts it to paper,
 and lets it all go
When writing there is no time, 
  no space,
 everything stands still,
 while the writer writes.
Why does he write ? 
 Why do you not pray? 
To have someone to hear your inner most thoughts to look for answers,
 to ask for help ,
 to let go , 
to just get it out.
Sometimes he writes out of anger,
 sometimes out of loss,
 others its out of desperation ,
 sometimes its just because .
Now the writer writes in hopes
 that the answer will be come clear .
He knows all he has to do is wait long enough,
 and it will appear. 
But what say you of those who do not write ? 
Are they lost, broken or just forgotten ? 
No, they are not lost, broken or forgotten
 instead of bringing down the pen to paper , 
They choose to speak their silent prayer 
But one thing is for sure 
Paper and pen 
Hands clasped and kneeling
Someone, somewhere,
 has heard your silent prayer 

Details | I do not know? | |

Night Ride

New Orleans thieved my heart at the start of spring, 
my stomach dropped along the bayou 
across to Mobile on train.
She stopped long enough to sing
in keeping with the rain. 
Atlanta's pink sky roaring, 
sore throats to spotted ring,
caught a cold thru Chattanooga 
winding north then west thru mountain bends.
To Tennessee, the accident,
where money grew on trees.
Stashed my pack behind a bush
til night passed by in a rush.
Waited for the sun to rise, 
high above Tallahassee plains,
to warm the fire ants and cement
to return south on blacktop highway.

Details | Blank verse | |

Life Is The Ink

Life is the ink
I write with.
Words are the actions
I maketh and take.
Paper is the earthly conneciton
Of where I am.
This pen is my destiny,
For only I hold the key.
These lines are boundaries
Of memories and times.
This book is my story,
Telling all there has been.
Writing is as living
As to remaining is as dying.
History is vast,
Yet each life creates its cast.
Life is the ink
We write with.
Words are the weapons
For fight and defence.
These books are our story
And forever we write freely.
Life is the ink
And is bound to run dry.
Our words remain
Even after we die.

Details | I do not know? | |

Why Do You Write?

People ask me,
"Why do you write?"
"Who do you write for?"

I think,

I write for myself,
to vent my emotions
to tell a story
to spread a message
to calm myself

I write for poets,
who enjoy reading
who need inspiration
who like to encourage
who try to find similarity

I write for you,
to tell you how I feel
to send hidden messages
to make you feel good
to show what you meant to me

I say,
"I dunno, I just like to write"

Details | Rhyme | |

Why I Write

I write to release all of the emotions I’ve picked up during the day,

I write to remember happy memories, and to make the bad ones fade away.

I write because I am in love. I write because I’m in pain…

I write because I have nothing to lose, and so very much to gain.

I write when my head is filled with fantasies, dreams and or goals,

I write because just like an actor, my mind takes on many roles.

I write my own songs, poems and sometimes silly little rants,

I write because I feel, I write because I can’t.

I write to show others like me that they are never alone,

I write to create another world that is simply my own.

I write because I am proud. I write because I’m ashamed…

I write when there’s a voice inside of me that can’t be tamed. 

I write at three in the morning when I can’t fall asleep,

I write because it is far better than counting furry sheep.

I write because I always have something to say,

I write because it has made me into who I am today.

Details | I do not know? | |

Thirty-two Today, Oh, and by the way......

By Therese Adams

Why? (she heard her gown son cry), 	
I really do not wish to pry 		
But why must I wait till I am thirty two, 
to get this lovely (!) poem from you?

Hark a mo dear son, came the reply, as she wiped a teardrop from her eye
Grant me a little grace, so I may make my humble case  
-You see, when you reached eighteen, she said with a sigh
Be seen with your mum? – You’d rather curl up an’ die!

You travelled the world almost all alone
With little money; not even a phone
I missed you so, thought I’d lost a limb
I even started palates at the gym.

Then you returned from six month’s long
To find your folks had upped and gone!
Shortly after, you met Clare
A beautiful girl, so bright and fair

At university the two of you dated
While I stayed at home and waited
… and waited, for your communication 
-you needed a lift from Redhill Station!	

So, I didn’t write when you were 18I
n retrospect, that was  rather mean!

Then when you got to twenty one
I think you thought the time had come 
For you to venture further afieldExplore! 
See what this life would yield

A grown man.  But still my son
You moved to a flat in Islington
With John and Joe and Clare
Hand on heart, my worst nightmare!

At 22, You had more or less decided what you wanted to do

But in your first job you never got paid -
The buggars kept all the money you made
Still, you worked your way out of all those glitches
And managed to savour some of life’s riches

At that time,  I was changing address
How could I write in an upside down mess?

You were twenty eight, when you were wed
Up the isle your Clare was led
By Gren, to take your arm
Cause she really fell for your golden charm.	

At 28, there was no time to pen you a ditty
Cause with your wedding I was pretty….busy 

When you reached thirty-one, 
We were blessed with a gorgeous grandson.
A bright blazing star fell out of the sky
Landed in Surrey Quays - you named him Kai

By then you were working for Mr Savills
While your Dad and I were taking our travels.
So for your 31st, no excuses, but it is uncanny… 
I was just boarding a boat at Surat Thani.

Then you announced the other day
There’s another little one on the way
Another little heart to beat,
One I just can’t wait to meet

So you see, my lovely son, now you are thirty-two
I am so extremely grateful to you
For making my life so full and rich
Oh! And please forgive me for being such a….

witch, for waiting so long to write this rave review
And to tell you I’m so bloody proud of you!

Details | ABC | |


A man that cries alone is a man that dies alone
Living life through the words of a heart filled song
The heart beats to the rhythm of the soul which is hard to contain
The feeling of lost and rejection never can be maintained
If I should die tomorrow where will I go?
Give my flowers while I’m alive because when I’m gone I will never know
In life trials and troubles it seems like one way in and no way out
Doing the right thing but getting the wrong results leaves nothing but a fearful doubt
My past is my past so please don’t judge me
We live in the present so look past all my imperfections and know there is a future that I seek
It’s amazing how the finger points and the beam is blinding your eyes
The truth is always seen no need of a disguise
I died a million deaths and still I stand strong
I was never a follower of anyone because of these battles I have to fight alone
I failed a couple of times which most people liked it that way
They kicked me while I was down and only hoped that was the position that I stayed
But still I rise with a victory of a bittersweet taste
I turned and walked away but happily went back to pick up their faces
I don’t seek for revenge for you reap what you sew
Before your lips part and speak that vapor I will let you prepare yourself to take these notes

Details | Classicism | |

The Poetic Script

A life in words wrapped in truth hidden from lies underground speaking so silent across the waves making them ever so loud.
 A life abused until the body is damged far deep into the soul looking for redemption in a world of numbers and codes lost somewhere on this crazy road.
 I see what life is and what it aint but moreso at what it outta be, so I look hard for something different for yet another lost soul on the stop waiting to monopolize and collect $200 past go.
 So I look at my life story and how I live so I write it in words of laughter but mostly hurt.
 So I write words out my mouth until I spit for truth I dont quit for *****in a world of *****pits among the strong who survive with mind wits I write until I shake hands with fist given vulgar lips living life is like living a trip so with these words I cant miss leaving everything I live on the list because every second we live is another second added to my entire life poetic script....

Details | Free verse | |

Paper and Pen

I exist between these lines,
a place that I call home
The space between the bars,
It's the only thing I've known
I've dreamt of what it's like
to roam the vastness
Where there isn't any structure ,
absolutely no confinements
but these lines are where I was placed,
I guess it's where I'm meant to be
But when the pages are turned, and all is dark
I dream that I am free

Details | Light Poetry | |


This is the man that I am

No need for a detective because I have few mysteries

Whatever you don’t find its trapped somewhere inside my mind

I put my life into words for the whole world to read

I hope you enjoy what you see

A South Korean English teacher by night

An avid writer by day

A helpless romantic somewhere in between

The smile and joy from my students is priceless

Seeing someone enjoy my writings is pretty rewarding as well

I feel that everything in my life is finally going well

From my writings you may find that hard to tell

Sorry I don’t write more fantasies or fables

To convey happy emotions and attract more followers

You are getting my life through my eyes

I don’t have a sweet tooth so I don’t sugarcoat things

I write what I have seen and how it has effected me

My adventures and journeys have been vast

Come with me on this ride

Together we can both be pleasantly surprised

With what I will write

This is the the man that I am

Find more of my writings and poems at

Details | Rhyme | |

My Saddest Song

In this I tale to all my tale
of the life that I’ve been through 
And if I write this tale of life
Then the tale I write be true
And if found false beyond reasonable dought
may all my name be cursed
For I tell this tale with all my word
and what left my word be worth
In truth I write in sincerest hopes 
that of it you may read
Though I pray you hold no sorrow dew
for no sorrow is due to me
The time has past that alas
my heart be lost at sea
For the tide at last has freed me of my past
my selfishness and greed
And all it left is a broken glass
that reflects my sorrow and grief 
As the fall does turn the trees to bare
upon the fall of the final leaf 
A vacant field of smoldering ash
from the casualties former flame
Is all that’s left to gaze upon
upon the battle plane
And as I lift my eyes to gaze 
and reflect on the lands fall
The coldest grievance echoes through my head
saying I could’ve stopped it all
The distant words of an old negro spiritual
begin to recite inside of me
Oh what peace we often forfeit
oh what needless things we meet
And should be should scapegoat
on what alter may our faults bare
For all this do for we do not take
everything to god in prayer
Though always I hold these words in my heart
and of them I do believe
My faith bareith not enough to trust
for my faith be incomplete
Though complete enough to sustain in you that I do believe
that you know the level of my faith therefore you won’t deliver me
And in this I bare my deepest woe
for in you my last hope lies
For the angels that were all once hear to stay
have to all my grievance died
And name the murderer who sins
name the committer of these deeds
And in that name my heart doth break
for the murderer is me
So now as I stare at the dead war grounds
of what use to be my home 
I hum the tune of the beast Jawloon 
for it be my SADDEST SONG

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Prose Mine Prys

‘At play with words’

Cork thine eyes 
Cloaking lucent verbose halls 
Surely binding shutting tight 

Cork thine eyes 
Clutching goblet sipping falls 
Drunk seduction bending sight 

Prose mine prys 
Gather up my scrolling drawls 
Paging through the spite 

Prose mine prys 
Splitting metaphors with mauls 
Swindle word codle the blight 

This poem explained

Shut your eyes 
Shade your bright and wordy thoughts 
Absolutely shut off your mind 

Shut your eyes 
Drink from the fountain of lies of the rich 
Allow yourself to be seduced and become blind 

My ordinary words chip away 
Read what I have written 
They are memorable moments of contempt 

My ordinary words chip away 
I chop up what I write with metaphors 
The negative meanings of what I write deceives with tenderness


Details | Rhyme | |

To Be Continued

A start
A race
A try
A pace
No evidence or trace
Subsides this place
A middle
A fact
The mind is hacked 
The creation slacks
As it hits climax
Nowhere but everywhere
Neither here 
Nor there
Views are shared
And always compared
A finish
A moral to lend
There is no end

To be continued...

Details | Rhyme | |

The Sheriff and The Brother

Both of their eyes locked hard on one another.
The sheriff needed to talk with this grieving, vengeful brother.
"Have a seat and a drink with me," the sheriff said to him.
"I need to explain to you what actually happened,
but before I reveal anything to you
I need your word that this stays between me and you.
If word of this gets out your brother is as good as dead."
The brother paused for a moment and then he said,
"You killed my brother," he said fighting not to cry.
"No I didn't," responded the sheriff, "He's still alive.
I killed the wrong man and claimed it was him.
Your brother is on the run, but he's still living.
All the residents of Fort Sumner are in compliance with me.
They don't want to see your brother get caught or killed 
so they've sworn themselves to secrecy
and have all signed affidavits certifying that the body
buried at Fort Sumner is your brother. Your brother is deceased officially.
This is your brother's last opportunity
to go underground and live his life more meaningfully.
He has agreed to go
to Old Mexico
and leave his beloved country
where he was loved so
by all who would know 
the company of he.
Before he left though he gave to me
this letter for his brother Joe to read."
The sheriff handed him the letter, shook his hand and left.
Joe opened the letter and this is what it read.
"My Dear Brother Joe,
I am still alive.
Don't believe everything those newspapers write and contrive.
It's so very difficult to let you all go
but I'm starting my life anew in Old Mexico.
Please know that loving thoughts of you will always be with me.
Forever your brother,
William H Bonney"

The above is a fictional write that I did.
Sheriff Pat Garrett did kill Billy The Kid.
Joseph Antrim was Billy the Kid's brother
and both he and Sheriff Pat Garrett did encounter each other.
When Joseph was approached and asked what Garrett said to him,
Joseph would always simply respond, "He explained to me what happened."
This coming from a man who once lost in his grieving plight
swore that if he ever encountered Sheriff Pat Garrett he would unmercifully kill him on sight,
but who knows, a loud mouth coward may have been Joe,
but I prefer the above pure fictional scenario.
In any event, we'll never know.

Details | I do not know? | |

Life is just beginning, we should rewrite the ending.

Life is just beginning, we should rewrite the ending.

What life means is to be honest and jolly,
Knowing this will begin my folly.
Everyone observes it in a different way,
That is why I am begging you to stay.
If it is true that life is just beginning,
I was thinking, maybe we should rewrite the ending.
Maybe start over, back to ourselves, like an actor at the beginning of a scene,
Go back and restructure if you know what I mean.
Back to the beginning, not ducking or hiding, when anyone comes around.
Finding the meaning for ourselves, searching for things lost, that would never be found.
Unless, in me, you do not trust.
Let us make out of life, what we must.
Now, let us start over, and make our mark of exuberance,
For only starting over will give us a chance.
Life is troublesome, and will smack you down every chance it gets,
Rewriting the ending will help us write one that fits.
No more pain, no more sorrow,
No more important wishes, waiting for the morrow.
Searching through this will give us light upon our way,
Searching the times and the hopes that, with us, will hopefully stay.
Keen, and alert, were you always,
I was hoping and wishing for you all day.
" Maybe a word, or maybe a letter..."
I what I thought you would do to make it all better.
I wish I would have listened before,
But not doing so, makes me the whore.
I hope you understand what I am saying,
Because I am thinking of you, and thats why I am staying.
Out of sight, out of mind,
Do not search for me, for my heart will you only find.
All I ask is that you understand,
For our being apart I can not stand.
So, together, let us go back to the beginning,
And together, let us write the beginning.

Details | Lyric | |

A Song

I write this words
Words underneath me
Words Within my Soul
I am trying to Set Free

I am writing a song
A song about you
A song that will change my feelings
To nothing new

I am trying to feel better
I am trying to feel good
But you always be my fear
And destroys all my mood

The days are getting darker
And all dreams I wished had fled away
I do not want to know you
But fate has been so cruel to me these days

I will a write a song
A Song that will show you
How much pain I have in me
How much pain you never even knew

These words I wrote
The paper that I hold
I am strumming my guitar
And I am trying to Show

These words of me...
The song of you...
These tunes from me..

This song is for you.

Details | I do not know? | |

The Sadist's Game

In air of awe,
...I write the pain of my heart,
each beat of tumult,
each throb of incite,
...which merges with my tears
in release of woe.

A cry of tragedy unheard,
...the final words of a dying bird
with clipped wings
called sanity.
For far off people, never met,
I have wept,
...enough tears to fill a desert,
a trillion tears a scattered
as ink on paper,
by my pen.

I co-mingle my tears,
our tears join hands in the river the time's stream grows thinner
their tears and mine,
become the ink
...and our pain becomes paper,

What fool sees war as sanity?
Murder as rationality,
children's tears become a game.

A sadist's game.

What fool made up these reasons?
humanity's treasons,
...against their own,
where profit is life
and life is for sale.

A sadist's game.

Where the innocent are killed,
...the field of dreams without remorse
where the psychotic mind becomes reality
...and there is no sanity in which to hide.

We go with the tide,
we go with the moon,
the sands of the desert
are like the hourglass,
...and red sand replenishes
the white,
in endless cycles
-where justice ceases
...and the pain shall never heal.

Yet there is still,
my tears,
my heart,
the throbbing pain which I feel
as someone's pain
...attacks me from afar.

I run to my desk, pen is leaking ink
as if stabbed maliciously,
...I grab it and the pain increases,
someone shot me,
someone stabbed me,
ripped out my eyes,
my ears,
my heart.
My fingernails are missing,
my lungs are coughing blood,
someone killed mother,
...but who?
The pain attacks me,
it rips at me
...and I have no choice
but to write it all.

Reality is two dimensional,
a stack of realities that burst;
...and information,
the history
...and lives of life
in general,
leak through the cracks,
for those sensitive enough
to feel them
...and inherit them.

Yet those tears shouldn't be,
...the river of time a flowing.
The paper thin reality,
in which we live,
which rips so easily
without slowing.

Those tears flow into Nature,
...and Nature's heart will break.
Because it's children are cannibals...

...and life is a sadist's game.

Details | Free verse | |

Complex strong willed Prince of priorities

we get over everything
but the weak need the strong
need someone to lead the way
we need to find a strong mind
a smart mind to study 
an accurate mind to probe
and test our subject
and get our answers to heal ourselves

Strong minded intelligent child
just passed the test
handed in his test
they know whose mind is stronger than the rest 
thanks to wars and terrorism of generations we forget

the child once had a happy home
mommy daddy breaking up
but remember life is a test
they keep pushing him and pushing him still
watching silently looking 
action for reaction

the boy grows old ignorant of such fame 
to figure it all out
how everything is a test
all the abuse he went through
was due to him having a strong mind
 for him to write it down and help others 
in other words for lamens to lamen term the genius at work
whose finished balling his eyes 
emotional scars
waiting for round two

strong willed prince of priorities

god complex
perhaps even multiple personalities
schitso effective mood disorder
depressive manic bipolar
 very hard on himself
while going through these tests

his names are songs
the movies haunt him because he speaks his nightmares freely
and this is your entertainment
all the way to i hate white rabbits at the campfire
why you say it to make him cry

how do you prioritize what complex to diagnose first
ask the multiples
prioritsed strong minded will of man
the one you all beat half to death mentally for answers
and see if he humbles himself to fix you
to make his problems worse
or to give you the hand thats let him go soo many times
 you want to rock the boat up this famous creek
 look who has the paddle the whole way

so his life has been defined
foreshadowed the whole way
when dealing with multiple complexes the only way to deal with them is naturally
which ones the infected resolves first
thank goodness we pick on the strong willed to lead the way
thank goodness for the test i took in fourth grade that changed my life forever
it all makes sense to me now

or the last 19 years of my life you have been my game
i had you figured out
im a genius remember
i tried to fail the test
but if you want to prioritize your complexes
anger management
mental abuse has to go first
Jesus alone cant go through all this pain alone to write it all down to heal you of 
all that ails you

as you throw me away to be your joke dressed in suicide

Details | Rhyme | |

Writer's Delight (My Delight)

I write to take the pain away
Releasing heartache
Not allowing it to meditate
Not allowing it to penetrate
Triggering unwanted emotions
That create the notions
That cause me to hate
Or hold malice
Malicious thoughts taint the soul
Tamper the spirit
So I write my pain down
For the world to read
Never to hear it
Writing is my weapon of choice
Shooting words and rhythms
This is what I choose to do
Rather than shooting with a nine-millimeter
 Or a twenty-two
To evoke contentment
To contrast some of the hard feelings
Given by the life
That so rarely satisfies
Allowing the pain to slowly die
Line by line
Word by word
Nouns and verbs
Which show action
The act of my passion
Causing a distraction
To everything that has upset
And beset me
To pause and redirect me
Letting go 
Starting anew 
To introduce the world to my view
What I see
My sight
This is my writer’s delight

Details | Ballad | |

Low Man Is Due

A low man is due...
My eyes seek reality,
My fingers feel for faith.
Touch clean with a dirty hand,
I touch the clean to the waste.
I fall cause I let go,
The net below has rot away.
And I cry to the alleyway,
Confess all to the rain.
But I lie straight to the mirror,
The one I've broken to match my face.
The fire is so warm,
But nowhere safe from the storm.
And I can't bear to see,
What I've let me be.
So wicked and worn.
So as I write to you,
Of what is done and to do.
Maybe you'll understand,
I won't cry for this man.
Cause low man is due.
So low the sky is all I see,
All I want from you is forgive me.
My eyes seek reality,
And my fingers seek my veins.
There's a dog at your back step,
He must come in from the rain.
But you bring that poor dog in from the rain,
Though he just wants right back out again.
So my fingers feel for faith,
And my eyes seek reality.
So as I write to you,
Of what is done and to do.
Maybe you'll understand,
I won't cry for this man.
Cause low man is due.

Details | I do not know? | |

Writing Wrongs (Death)

Poetic pyramids 
Built on sins 
Built with lies
Stolen from within 
Lies which spin
Causing you to stay
Even when these phrases
Are really giving you
Reasons to run away
From my poems written
In a kiss
Comparing your voice
To bird songs
This is my nightingale’s song  
To write wrongs

Not one but two 
Horns the devils 
Return to their perch 
Sit so calmly on both
My shoulders throwing 
Boulders not stones at the
Mirrors in glass house 
Feelings whispering me
“re-live your evil" not
“relieve” and kill
These weasels 

Harvest feelings
Cotton crops words 
Used to prop open 
Doors to desire dripping
From my fingers my evil 
Perspires soaks defences
Get sticky and unbearable 
Fogs prescription lens’s 
My drugging offensive 

Call these phrases vines
The undermining factor 
Used to shatter defences
Picking locks on chastity 
Belts nothing like this
Ever felt so write (ing)

Details | I do not know? | |

Story of a Child

A little girl walked to school one day to find her friends already playing. She stood 
wordlessly, and watch them pass a ball about. They ran and frolicked, and 
jumped with glee. With out even a word passed her way. As silently as she came 
she turned and left. 
In the school she went down turning halls, and up twisting stairs. To the highest 
point she could find. Here she sat near a window facing her friends down below. 
She removed a book from her bag. Its cover was black, and lacked a title. She 
opened it, its pages were blank, and began to write a story. 
Many years came, and passed, her friends had all gone on to different schools. 
Some stayed in contact with one another, but as they grew so did the distance 
between them. The friendship that had meant so much years ago, had all but 
vanished, But the little girl always remained.
One day a teacher approached the little girl, and asked her why she wasn’t 
playing outside with her friends. The little girl dropped her pencil, and looked up 
at the teacher with a smile. 
The unity between friends will never last, but in my story it can last forever. 
The little girl picked her pencil up, and began to write once more. The teacher 
walked off still astonished to hear such words from a child. She was almost out 
the room when she turned, and faced the little girl. 
Your right friendship doesn’t last, but it will also never die. For every persons life 
you touch a part of them you take as they take a part of you. New friends will 
come, old ones will leave, but that part will always be yours. Yours to keep, it 
helps unite us, it helps make us one. 
The little girl closed her book, and then she vanished. The teacher walked closer 
to the desk, but found only dust. The book still laid atop the desk. The teacher 
picked it up, and began to read its story. She cried while reading, she cried at the 
end. The story of a child who’s life had come to an end. 

Details | I do not know? | |


*** I decided each day to write a poem for each victim of Sandy school shooting and maybe share it with their families if that is possible. Even though I am sure lots of people have wrote poems in honor of them. Anyways, the first child I will write about is 7 year old ,Gracie McDonnell.

Look up at the clouds,

And see the image of a peace sign.

Gracie is sending her love through the clouds by wanting peace.

Look up at the stars at night,

And see her beauty shine.

She is sparkling.

Letting her amazing self help people on earth.


Look deep inside yourself,

And unlock the anger and hatred caged up.

Gracie wants you to be happy and fill your heart with joy.

Now give the peace sign.

For everytime you do that,

You are helping her promote peace into the world.

Details | Verse | |

My Thoughts Of Life

These poems I WRITE,
are only some of my thoughts of LIFE.
Some may say they are meaningless WORDS, 
others may take them as bits of ADVICE.
Many may judge my life by the words I TYPE,
some might catch offense, and want to FIGHT.
But, I’m only exercising my constitutional RIGHTS.
I’m not trying to afflict my opinions on NONE.

I’m only living this life God chose to BEGUN.
Some people value money,
 others idealize their CARS.
Average people just live their life,
But, great people shoot for the STARS.

Some people just live a life of ANOTHER,
While others spend their whole life,
          trying to satisfy their significant OTHER.
Average people might think I’m ARROGANT!
Christians may think I’m heaven SENT.

Haters may which to call me NAMES.
others may seize the opportunity to cause me PAIN.
Some poets, can only write about their personal FEELINGS,
while other artists write about their surrounding DEALINGS.
Some people die never realizing, questioning why they LIVED?
Some people spend their whole life taking,
 never knowing how it feels to GIVE.

Others are satisfied, because God chose for them to WAKE.
Majority of the world, 
believes their whole life was a MISTAKE.
Some people work to gain, 
 Thieves live to TAKE!
 Law biding citizens live by the law,
 criminals live to BREAK!

Once again my FRIENDS,
these are only my thoughts of LIFE!
Who’s really to judge what’s wrong,
 or in that case, what is RIGHT?
This life was a gift to ME,
Some people live a great life,
 others just live from B  eginning to E nd.

Average people live to play life safe,
 	great people live life while SACRIFICING.
Great people live to WIN,
while sinners live to SIN.
Christians may say as if they go to church, 
their works will SUFFICE.
The Jews are still looking for the coming of CHRIST!
But me I live for the thoughts of LIFE!

Details | I do not know? | |


i tried to write a love poem today
but i did not know the correct way
my words do not come out in that form
my heart is like a never ending storm
i write about death, about blood and tears
about secrets, pain and threatening fears
about the joy of dying
and how the world keeps lieing
love is not in my vocabulary, or in my mind
it's a lost cause something i'll never find
my heart is eched with rock and ice
nothing in there ever comes out nice
nothing i write can make you smile
it's as if my mind is created of pure hostile
i want to feel love to let my words kind of flow
but i can not write about something that i do not know
i feel no pity no sadness no sorrow
i even pray often for no tomorrow
words so perfectly wrote so caring and loving
can not come from a mind that's constantly shoving
shoving words of hatred or ill dismay
of no sunshine and hopeing it would stay this way
they can't they won't they do not know how
they try they look and they understand now
for you see dark minds think of dark things
of words that pierce you that make your eyes sting
sting with tears and fears and haunting pasts
of things that you could have only wished to last
reality it hurts it bites you in the heart
and i know my words can tear you apart
i can not apologize for what i write
or because my world is not at all bright
i can not apologize for my words of hate
but if i do not write them now, tomorrow might be too late...

Details | I do not know? | |

The Great Pretender

I want to write the perfect poem
I know it's out there somewhere
Searching for home
I want to sing the world's most beautiful song
I know it's out there somewhere
Longing to belong
I want to paint the most beautiful scene
With all of Vincent's beautiful colors
Red, blue, yellow, purple, lavender and green
I want to write the picture perfect ending
I want you to love me
But I shouldn't go on pretending

Details | Free verse | |

Vasava - An Untold Story 11/Many

Vasava – 
An untold story                                                                        11/Many

It appeared that Rati* the wife of love God Cupid
Had come before the Shiva* the God of destruction
To charm and disturb his meditation
Thus taking the strength of God Shiva* 
For saving her husband the Kamadava*

By expressing shyness through her beautiful eyelids
She had added only more charms to her lovely face
And by filling a touch of passions,  in her slow movements
Vasava was adding only more restlessness among all those
Who were watching,  the legendry Vasava on the stage

By listening the heart touching sound of her Gold Noopurs*
All became enchanted, while listening the sound of its music
Even the lamps which were burning to spread the light
Increased their flames, as if they too wanted to see the beauty
Thus illuminating the beauty of the dancer more and many fold

King Udiyan and King Suyodhan, both were watching Vasava
Almost spell bound, as if her beauty had charmed them completely
As the beauty of a full bloomed flower 
Often takes away our heart and mind together
Udiyan was feeling as if, Vasava had stolen his heart completely

She started her first song of the day, by reciting a welcome song
Attributed to King Suyodhan, who was lost in the dreams of Vasava
She sang ‘Priya Tum Aaye ho dwar hamare, Vandan Abhinandan Hamare’*
The Alap* which she started from the slow pitch of voice 
Went high enough to touch the hearts of every one who was there

Ravindra 					26th March 2010

Copy write protection as per Poetry Soup automatic Copy write provisions also.

* The song lines are in Hindi which can be recited in English with its 
   Explanation in English

* Priya Tum Aaye ho dwar hamare, 		
   Vandan Abhinandan Humare’
   Nagar Dwar Sub Sujre Savre
   Aathitya Sewkar Karo Tum Humre

You have come to our door, O dear 
We welcome you and greet you 
All the houses and doors are set a new  
And are ready to welcome you, ( O God like) Guest of ours
You have come to our door, O most dear
Please accept and be our Guest. 

* Shiva		Constituting the trinity of Hindu Gods, Shiva performs the function 
                                    of the destroyer so that new life is created once again.

* Kamadava	Cupid or Kamadeva, the Vedic deity of Love astride his mount the 
                        parrot, whose form embodies Rati, his consort. Together these two 
            deities, Kama (Love) and Rati ( Desire) signified each other. 

Details | Narrative | |

Along for the ride

As I sit down to write my thoughts scatter.
What was important today doesn’t matter.
I spend all this time trying to find the right thing,
Outside my window I hear the birds sing.

I think of my purpose and where I shall go.
I planted some seeds in hope they will grow.
The sun hits the horizon and puts on a show.
Outside my window there’s much I don’t know.

I get up and get myself dressed.
Sometimes life is a constant test.
All I can do is to give it my best.
Things I can’t change I put to rest.

I write back to some friends their words make me smile.
Their words have beauty and grace and teach me of style.
I feel quite fortunate to have all of them around.
My heads in the clouds my feet on the ground.

I go outside to see what’s going on
The world looks the same though some pieces are gone.
I jump into my car and drive into the sun
My eyes shall see all that is to become.

I know that it’s early but no one’s around.
I listen but I seem to make the only sound.
Where once I was lost I seem to be found.
I haven’t a clue to where I am bound.

Life flies by and appears as a blur.
I take it all in even though I’m not sure.
It doesn’t really matter with hope at my side,
I just sit back and go along for the ride…

Details | Sonnet | |

Please Give Me Some Time

I am bewildered as to how to carry on my write ups!
With my eyes all time into the bookish stuffs;
Teachers and proffessors praise me for my talents-
But still they scold me for studies making me silent.

I am bewildered as to how to think positive!
With all men in power stressingupon negatives;
They say us to be optimists-
But neither thet act nor allow us to be good artists.

I am bewildered as to how to invent new in life!
With mind in tension where I thrive;
They tell me you will do great-
But the same warns me perform or fret.

So much contradicts in this world of mine-
To write and find new please give me some time!!

Details | Free verse | |

The Specks



A single life dangles on a string tied to billions
Can not one notice that speck within the crowd?
Is it even worthy of acknowledgement?
Every speck represents the whole being
The body—without that speck it isn’t worth seeing
I write for the sake of the ignored
I write because I am abhorred
Ever does the wind blow
As the blackened specks began to grow
The disease is spreading in the mass
And suddenly all attention is on that dangling speck
They watch as it falls out of their realm
But the sickness is still there among them
They watch the speck fall
You blame one—you blame them all

Details | I do not know? | |

Don't Stop The Poetry

I'm going to write this poem
and not once stop my pace
So when I die I will show Him,
God, the poetic piece I've laced.
I'm going to write about my struggles
I'm going to write about happyness
My strength will put me on a hussle
So I can make ends to share it with,
My mother, my father,
My 2 sisters and brother,
I may not say it at times
but until death I love them.
I cry out to the Most High
that honestly I only can do my best.
If I leave the Earth a failure
then I'll feel I've failed life's test.
No matter how hard things are
I promise I won't stop the poetry.
Because God knows my strength
and if nobody, He'll notice me.

Details | Free verse | |

When I am Old

I will drink coffee in the morning and a glass of wine in the evening.
I will laugh and tell stories of my youth like my forefathers had done.
I will write treasured memories down and look back on the journals
I have written and admire how my life was shaped by fate and luck.
I will wear my hat with pride though outdated by decades,
 I will live with no regrets.  
Life is what is. Created for me to create.
I will write with strength and wisdom of my own experiences,
And what my elders have taught me, keeping traditions heart beating.
I will share my life and those I have known, by words of rhythm and rhyme.

I will go the barn and smell clean hay,
Watch my horses play.
I will love the sunrise and admire the sunsets,
When I am old.
I will smell my horses sweet breath, feel his whiskers on my cheek,
I will listen to their soft nickers in the morning, 
Promises never understood, but known.
I will wear hay in my hair as if a halo.
A gift given by such noble friends.
I will sit and listen to the steady rhythmic grind as they quietly eat. 
Watch their breath steam lazily into the frosty morning.
As I look into their bold eyes, 
I see they are patiently waiting 
For me to know, what they know 
And waiting for the woman I am yet to become.
As for now, 
I am just learning how to walk.

Details | Free verse | |

Number Nine (Nonet)

Sixty-three divided by seven
Four squared plus two and minus nine
Square root of sixteen plus five
Square root of eighty-one
Three squared plus zero 
Ten minus one
Six plus three 
Three threes

Comments:  dedicated to the mathematical wizards who would like to write a 
nonet poem, this is your chance.   This is a very understandable way to write a 
nonet. A nonet poem has nine lines, with the first line containing nine syllables, 
the second line eight, the third seven, then six, next five, then four and so until the 
last and ninth line has one syllable. The nonet poem may be written about any 
subject, and rhyming is optional. Start with a topic sentence and work it down live 
a funnel. It should be deductive and inductive.

Details | Rhyme | |

Another Day In Rhyme

My heart is liberated,
Every night I write.
I'm no more frustrated,
At this day and time.
Life is on my mind, 
Which is why I write the truth
Down on every line;
So, I might share with you.

©2015 Honestly JT

Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry Soup

This is where I come to bleed.
Where I leave my heart for you to read.
So many things in my heart to grieve.
But only one place it can come to relieve.

It's where my friends I've never met,
Yet, in their minds, my feelings I set.
You relate my fears. You see my love,
Even for that of my God high above.
I speak to you of the one I hold dear.
Whenever, for her, I'm shedding a tear.

Poetry and song in the world we fill,
Leaving it with an insurmountable bill.
Though in money and riches we do not bask,
A little of your time is all I ask.
Poetry soup is what soothes my soul.
It makes even the broken feel once again whole.

I write when I'm joyful. I write when I'm lost.
I write when the world has me beaten and tossed.
It's a medicine so potent we cannot perceive.
They're words that can make weak humans believe.

So to you the readers I am ever indebted.
It's a friendship I have not ever regretted.

Details | Cowboy | |

Dear Charlie

I have thought of you often, found some paper tucked away,
I’m feeling sentimental and have some time today,
So with pen in hand I thought I would write a line or two,
Though I don’t know where your at or if this letter will get through.

Well the wire is now strung and the cowboys are fenced in,
The Indians that rode beside you will never be again. 
The long horns their now mulies a horn not a one,
I guess the wild west days have come and gone.

But Charlie I think you know there is a die hard breed.
There are still some out there that live the cowboy creed.
I know it’s not exactly the same as when you rode so bold,
But Charlie I wanted you to know that not all the saddles are sold.
For they wake each morning to the rising sun,
And know at the end of each day their work is still not done.
And they will gather around a fire to hear a yearn or two,
To see who tells the better tale of the things that they do.
And some paint a might good picture too, I have seen them at their best.
I guess there’s still a little wild out here in the west.

We think of you often and dream of a time 
When the range was open and the land was in its prime. 
When long horns ran high ridges and tested cowboy wit,
And even the best of the ponies would still challenge the bit.
So I thought I would write to let you know 
that you are thought of out here in what we do and where we go. 
And there still is hardcore buckaroos who still challenge change,
And they fight for the freedom to ride the range.

Well the fire has burned to embers and the crew is coming in
The quiet moment that I had, is now brought to an end,
So I will stoke the fire, put the coffee on and say goodbye for now,
Hoping you might get this letter some how.
Just remember your not for gotten Charlie and you will live on
And the cowboys and buckaroos are not completely gone.
And when I have more quiet time and paper that I might find,
I promise to write again, rest in peace my dear old friend.

Details | Sonnet | |

Above All You Loved, Heaven is Above--Seventh Shadow Sonnet Challenge

~~Above All You Loved, Heaven is Above~~

Man made in the image of God, pray man
Woman, a rib of man your love woman
Can your love plan every thought, if you can?
Humans can pray for the lives of humans

Prime vigor, your heart felt life in your prime
Compassion understands, sweet compassion
Time ends days, life is wanting every time
Passions warm affection, loving passions

Life is living right, do you live like life?
Pride's deadly sins; love was not ever pride
Strife disputes harmony; bitter is strife
Brides don't cry, you're a rare most lovely brides

Love your man it's his life; you are his love 
Above all you loved, heaven is above. 

© 2015 DiLinda A. Adams, All Rights Reserved.

Seventh Shadow Sonnet Challenge! – Please join me. Poems should rhyme, and have an 10 syllable count and 14 lines to meet the challenge. However, if you just want to be creative please do so.





Details | Free verse | |

What To Say

I want to write a letter to you But I don't know what to say Should I tell you I still love you Do you want me to say i'm ok How about all the hurt Or the way I spent my day Do you want me to tell you How I wished you sould have stayed I want to write a letter to you I have no idea what to say But until I figure it out I will just tell you i'm ok

Details | Couplet | |

Truth Beats the Lies

Today I pen this poem for all of you
Know in your hearts every word is true

There was once a time that I was insane
Everyone I loved, I caused them pain

Grandparents to my children’s hearts
I honestly tore them all totally apart

Uncles, Aunts, Sisters and Brothers
She hadn’t drown probably my mother

The best of friends and all of my mates
No one was exempt from sharing my hate

My hate was a river that forever poured
My soul was thing that I forever ignored

So why is that not the Michael Jordan of today
One day I ask of the Lord, “Please guide my way”

The road wasn’t easy true change never is
My life was no longer mine I considered it his

And what he ask, what he wanted me to do
Is use myself as an example of how to be true

Being true to myself I quickly learned was the key
I couldn’t anything for you till I was honest with me

And no matter what I do it could never be enough
When it comes to amends I have a lifetime of stuff

But none of that matters it no longer matters at all
I now bow to the Lord but to the world I stand tall

I no longer hold to excuses or offer up alibis
I have learned how to let go of all of the lies

My truth is my shield as I write for the Lord
My heart writes lyrics as my soul plays the chords

I don’t even really know what this poem is about
Sometimes I’m blown away by what comes pouring out

I guess it’s just another way to rise above the sin
For it’s the words I write that teaches me to win

What am I trying to win, I do hope it shows
A little more love in my heart and light in my soul

What this poem is about I have come to realize
No matter how much it hurts the truth beats the lies

Details | Free verse | |

A Poem for Sister

If I could write a special poem,
I would write it just for you.
To show how much I thank you,
for all you say and do!

For all the times you helped me,
for all the times you cared,
it always made me feel good,
to know someone was there.

I will never be able to show you,
just what you mean to me.
But happiness and harmony,
Are my only wish for thee.

Details | Couplet | |

Walking this Mile

I accept what i need offer up what's left
Let ridicule fall on ears that are deft
Just as a fisherman catches fish on his hook
I write out my poems and put together books
The reason I do it is clear as can be
I feel it's what the Lord ask of me
For 41 years I had no idea I was a poet
But if I couldn't cook it I could damn sure grow it
My life consumed by Marijuana and speed
Trusting in them to provide what I need
They replaced my job and even my love
They were everything that I held above
They picked me up whenever i felt low
If I got to high they helped me to slow
No, I didn't write poems or watch the T.V.
Never touched a computer said, "Thats not for me"
Traded in the girls because the next on was cuter
Woke up with a shot went to bed with a hooter
I would run day and night until I would drop
Running more from myself than from any cop
I chemically induced away all my dreams
See rivers take mothers after being formed by streams
These days my head feels like it's in a vice
I'll tell you right now my pains nothing nice
Weekly shots I take for the Hepatitis C
Epidural Steroid blocks in the spine for me
Every doctor I see I greet with a smile
Not feeling to good but I will after while
They say my attitude is one that is great
I see the beauty of love with no time for the hate
I have no reason for anger or time to be mad
No reason for all that this is my bad
This isn't that bad hell I've suffered more
At least I can turn my knob and walk out the door
Reality is real but it's also a dream
Things that are clear may not be as they seem
The Lord is my master to whom which I serve
For he's already given me more than I deserve
Children who love me and a beautiful wife
All the blessings a man needs in life
So Doctor tell me how can I not smile
At least I'm not alone walking this mile
I have you guys and the Lord walking with me
And thats about as beautiful as beautiful can be

I dedicate this poem to all of my doctors
Dr. Garrison - Primary
Dr. Merliss   - Neurologist
Dr. Aldwari -  Infectious Disease Specialist
Dr. Johnson- Pain Management Specialist
Dr. Beck      - Physical Therapist 
I feel very blessed to have such a fine 
team working so hard on my recovery.
I also wish to thank everyone for all the
Prayers I have received. I love you guys.

Details | Free verse | |

The absolute silence

Silence befalls                                                                            
Don't know what to say                                                           's a grave decree                                                                    
It has possessed me                                                                          
For me to's you no more                                                     
I besmirched thee                                                                              
Begone! The absolute silence                                                       
Because I seek you no more

Details | Free verse | |

Write Something

I have been challenged

To everyday


You’d think that’d be a simple task

Since I call myself a writer


Isn’t as easy as it seems.

What am I supposed to write

When all I’m trying to do is



About how I woke up feeling great, ready to take on the day

Until I turned on the news heard the snow storm hit earlier than expected

Making the commute to and from work a complete disaster


About how for once

The CTA was running on time

And I actually made it to work early

As opposed to my standard 5 – 10 minutes late


About how long my workday seems to drag when I’m in the office

And how fast times flies when I’m not 


About how I’m grateful that I have a job

But really feel like I’m just spinning my wheels coming here everyday


About the homeless woman I saw during lunch

And how I wondered where she’d go tonight when the ‘deep freeze’ hits


About never finding the time to myself to write 

Instead settling on jotting lines down 

On whatever piece of paper is handy

Whenever something comes to mind


About how at the end of the day

I look in my notebook and all I see written is



Details | Free verse | |

I miss my old town

So, this morning I walked the streets of this town I live
the way everybody was talking made no since.. to me
jacked up on caffeine, some still drunk from last night
talking smack, pointing fingers at the wrong guy
throwing peace signs with one hand and punches with the other
They'll be shouting please god forgive me, and singing at church tomorrow
so many people caught up in what's in
a town of fifty five hundred and overflowing with sin
I miss the way things use to operate
respect was not only given.. it was earned
what happened... when did we all fail to learn
seems like money and greed fuels the fire
you're a preacher, a saint.. today you're a brother,
but tomorrow I'll have to watch my back,
tomorrow I'll have to arm myself...
because tomorrow you're a snake, you're a liar
you feed on the pain you cause others
flying a false flag in the name of another... not God
You say only God can judge you while you judge others
I'm so sick of the hell we bring one another
I miss the way things use to be...  

Details | Free verse | |

Perfect Harmony

Perfect Harmony

I'm free 
your open
together we create the perfect harmony
together,forever is what we promised
now where have we gone since that day
farther or should have stayed
I'm working your playing but together we 
create perfect harmony.I will write the rhymes
you'll write the music,then we shall create perfect harmony.
now we'll be together forever at least that what we glass dolls we sit side by side alike in so many ways
and yet so different in others,and yet we create perfect harmony.
everything we are is because and will always be because
we create perfect harmony together.

Details | Free verse | |

Self reflection

Self-reflection is an art
A two edged sword that no one teaches
No religion philosophized
my own personal goal 
to better myself 
and understand everything 
by seeing one another 
through the slide of me 
through another’s eyes 
and that person 
through yet another’s eyes

Four good qualities you truly possess is where I start
The good things about me
Actually that’s a lie
That’s what I recommend
I usually get a little bit sad sit here and realize 
That I think I’m deep and no one understands

I know through self-reflection of understanding history
and putting myself in other peoples shoes
Like a mental actor of how I would feel emotionally and mentally
and then writing it down
is like self reflection but not quite
close but no cigar I have learned we are truly all actors and life is indeed a stage
And when we learn how to manipulate the greatest acts of man for the history 
The next generations will be taught in school how to prevent wars and live in 
piece by us selling one perfect life or lie
And I wonder if I’m a 27-year-old psychological lie of a ghetto wizard
I’ve described

Through self reflection I know they're are things I need to change
Some things I never will
Some things I am a part of
And at least the parts and pieces of my life I live like poetry that if they were 
captured like dreams in a butterfly net
They would teach something to the future like Jesus or anybody would if they 
Just how to self reflect emotionally mentally put yourself in another’s shoes and 
learn the lesson through writing a poem
or thinking it out

If each generation and the history books were all acts of men
and my generation has to top the last lie with a wisdom of the perfect metaphor 
to unlock the following generations thinking process
Is that the game of the planet?
Are those the reasons to the wars we fight today?
to teach tomorrow
When they write their essays that will become tomorrow’s politicians 
An insane asylum can teach politics and all we really want is to pay them to be 
rich and make global friends so we can have utopia
But in the history book of the essays they no longer write where life lessons were 
learned and taught through misfortune of man
there are gems to be uncovered of how to stop wars how to peace keep
How to mediate
How to live
How to heal
and every generation we discover it on our own as the teachers subtly shape our 

Details | Rhyme | |

Ars Poetica

A poet shouldn’t write what others want to hear,
One must not feel intimidation, nor fear.
A poet must write about his own experience
He should capture his own life’s true essence.

At nearly nineteen years of life I’ve learned,
A true artist’s voice is not pleasant to be heard.
A poet’s life truly is nothing to be desired,
A poet doesn’t have a job, he never gets hired.

Any man can live a life plain and normal,
But being a poet is much more exceptional:
Telling your thoughts with no care in the world,
You can freely make your voice be heard!

Details | Sonnet | |

You Lost Your Heart and Soul, and Love Lost You--Fifth Shadow Sonnet Challenge

~~~You Lost Your Heart and Soul, and Love Lost You!~~~

Seas called me back home to the Red Sea
Souls without a spirit, were the lost souls
Be their promise my soul don't let me be
Cold and alone underneath the dead cold

Hearts cried out a love-songs deep in my heart
Sand in my shoes, thoughts buried in the sand
Darts hit my heart; arrows of fiery darts
Can this be love in my heart, say it can?

Doves of peace and life, fly high my white doves
Life faded away no one saved my life
Love lost its will, lost all I did to love
Strife took derelict of duty was strife

Due process lost the law, with life's pain due
You lost your heart and soul, and love lost you.

©2015 DiLinda Adams, All rights reserved

Fifth Shadow Sonnet Challenge! – Please join in if you like; it has to rhyme, 10 syllable count and 14 lines, meets the challenge. However, if you just want to be creative please do so. I cannot wait to see what you all are going to write about.





Details | Rhyme | |

I love to write

I write my poetry for many reasons
Such as nature's beauty in any season.
To express all types of emotions
or the simple beauty of the oceans.
To bring other people comfort and peace
Since I can't cry it is my way to have release.

I can write about things that I see.
Noises I hear and the reactions from me
Places I've been or want to go
or the people and things I've come to know
I can write from a collection of words.
I write about all sorts of animals and birds

I love to write all about my faiths.
about anything any time or any place.
About all of my miracles from the Lord
or things I wish for but can't afford.
Things I want to always remember
or the problems with family members

Details | Rhyme | |

Writing Sounds

Like feathers carried in the wind I write words from deep within.
Whispering sweetly in your ear Beautiful notes of serenity for you to hear
Elegance sounds through out the land Waiting for you to write again

Details | Free verse | |

My Poetry

Once poetry was just a hobby,
Then I grew to love it,
My poetry is dark,
And sad and angry,
But I never feel happy enough to write anything else.

My poetry is my feeling in words,
Expressed in a non-harmful way,
I write about love and passion,
But nothing stupid at all,
Because my poetry is real,
And I’m not stupid.

Details | Couplet | |

Education For Life

Changing schools was the rule
Never stayed long and get in the groove

Making friends never ended
Fitting in was always mended

So a loner I became
I don't remember many names

But I learned to love to learn
Still have a heart that yearns

For knowledge on many subject
Even on aliens that abducted

Went to college after I wed
When all my children were in school instead

Finished a college degree
When I held a grandson on my knee

Then I continued my education
Master's Degree in Christian Station

Ten hours on a PhD got so tired
Oh! I was totally mired

Thinking about going again on a wager
Work on a psychology major

With a minor in poetry  
Where I can write and just be me

(Poor excuse for a couplet but will have to do.  This is for Education Game passed to me by 
my lovely daughter Doris Culverhouse who received the torch from James Frazer.  I pass the 
thinking cap to James Marshall Goff to write a poem about education.)

Details | ABC | |


I have forever thought about death
Living my life was such a threat
so when I decided to write this poem
I thought long and hard about what could go wrong
the way people interpret things
Makes the poetic thought not want to sing
still I write My thoughts all down on paper
wonder "Will it draper?"
over their Naive eyes
Will they see it, probably not, they're too demised
They will see me wanting nothing
hiding from this world of something
OPPERTUNITY is NOT seize the day
CARPE DIEM thats what they say
the only seizing that I'll do
is when my body goes "Achoo!"
And my body drops hard to the floor
like some battering ram knocking down a door
then to the hospital they will take me
and UP the dosage all the way, SEE?
to make things worse they'll find something new
like what was once juvenile is becoming prgressive too
then people will treat me nicer
because I have problems to decipher
about this wretched little life I live
so, now, I say it again
I have forever thought about death
living MY life is suchs a threat
to all who know me one wrong touch
and THEIR lives will turn to dust
because they found me in my bed
they found me lying here, DEAD!

Details | Free verse | |


i don't use spacing in my poetry
because it feels like a gimmick
i don't dabble around in various forms
because they're trite and they bore me
i add little flourishes
that no one notices
so maybe i should just stop?

i dig around inside my head
for things that might matter
for a second but not so much
a minute later
i am fickle when i want to be
and do not apologize for it
i despise cliches with all my heart
yet more often than not
splash around in them
i am lazy, and incoherent
and stupid and smart
and couldn't give two sh1ts
about what you think i should
or should not do about it

i take feedback like a b1tch
but rarely ever listen to it
i swear because i believe
the entire human language
is free range
i write about drugs
because they interest me
not because i do them
i write about life and death
and everything in between
but i still tend to repeat
i write about life and death
and everything in between---
you get the point

Details | Rhyme | |

The Lines That Come Forth

The taking of the pen in hand 
to write of what I see,
the lines that come forth  through inward demand 
remain the best expressions of me.

Never old and ever changing
are the words upon each page.
Never limitless are my options
for the world is viewed as a stage.

Of various people from all walks of life 
to the seasons of unending change,
the subjects I write of from day to day
are as far as east from west in their range.

Desire and accomplishment are best expressed
each day that I find time to write.
Only when done can heart and hand rest
as the words of each poem come to light.

Douglas L. Ace

Details | Rhyme | |

Things I love

I love to hear my grandson Bradley babble.
For fun to Mesquite, NV am I going to travel.
The puzzling questions I just love to unravel.

Especially God's mysteries of all the glory.
I have read and listened to many a story.
I love to play with my grandkids, my Lordy

Are they precious, so precious - a miracle.
My first miracle came while I took a pill.
I love my children so and I always will.

I love to write in the still of midnight light.
A small lamp lights my office room.
The other day the thunder went BOOM!

I love thunder clouds bringing the rain.
It clears my nostrils  - clears my brain.
I love organ music and songs of refrain.

I love Larry, my hubby: Eddie and Max.
I love to sing to the music, write - relax.
I love to smoke, drink, dance, burn wax.

I love Christmas dinners, Xmas mass.
I love bingo with coffee and brandy.
I love a good glass of wine - dandy.

All in all, I just love life and living.
Taking it all in, being free to giving.
Things I love are many to believing

In one true God, who without I wouldn't
And couldn't do anything. Not sing, nor 
Write, nor love anything. For He sore

His son in the Heavens to save my
Soul and not be cold when I die.
I love Him and do not wonder why.

Details | Quatrain | |

Above Poetry Soup

Take pen in hand and make your stand
Tell the world who you are
Be not afraid of prices that are paid
Have faith you are a star

To all of you my feelings so true
I hold you in my heart
Will never be a day that I go away
For here is where I start

Times a moment or two is all I can do
I love the words we share
Without a doubt they help me out
Foundation of my prayer

Beginning to end you are my friends
Poets sharing my soul
That is a bond that is so far beyond
Anything else I know

I love the flow and I love to grow
Planting a tiny seed
No need to shout I just write it out
Hoping to fill some need

If it does or not I gave it a shot
Simply because I care
Anything I can do ask and its true
I’ll give all I can spare

I sink my hooks and write my books
That is this poet’s plight
For when your blue what I hope to do
Offer a little light

We can turn it around or upside down
Find what’s hidden inside
It’s a good thing the poems we sing
Each its own special ride

I love to teach but hate to preach
That just isn’t my place
I’m a lamb be blessed or be damned
I hold you in my grace

We make it right by sharing our sight
The knowledge that we know
Sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers
All just trying to grow

Grow into what, you can like it or not
Alliance is our group
That’s why in the sky angels do fly
Above Poetry Soup

Details | Rhyme | |

I wonder

Why do I always torture myself, writing about things bad, every time I sit to think a little, all I feel is sad. Was my life that bad?, am I just bitter and scorned?, why do I find it easier, to write about thing gone wrong?. Though my life may not be fulled with joy, still I am content, I sort of understand the reasons now, it's all part of a bigger plan. Still I struggle to write of things, that would bring people much joy, it's just not in my nature I guess, to write things that make people smile. Still I ponder, why I write the way I do, Snap!!! Maybe it's the only way, to get my message through...
M.Mahauariki © 2012

Details | Free verse | |

I'm not sure you know what to say part 3

As you comment on everyone soo often and deny me a status of understanding
Whatever I try to express
So I’ll get off my soapbox and just tell you
You don’t fully understand it
I wont explain it or try to pretend to comprehend all of it
But inside of you	
I want to mention
Sometimes I need some attention
For the angels of men and women
And the demons of deception
are plaguing me all the way from the bibles of every intelligence
to the zodiac of hesitations
and ultimatums
I wish I could tell you what the stars would mean to me
instead of them being
Chinese astrology of arts of war
and masked for divination
to come together
to take over
The labels and awards of good deeds we never receive
And maybe one day
you'll read something from me
and you will see
I refuse to lie to me when I type and write and write to myself

And that’s why you have soo little to say

I hope your enjoying a spiritual awakening
And one in million waking up minds to start dieting
Can and will wake up the minds of the many
Who need to start self-reflecting
And the revolution of spirit mind and body
of the truth in-between the lies and lines
Isn’t far behind

But seriously asked the angels and demons who agree to run away from me
Is mankind crazy or really that brave?

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Details | Lyric | |

The Unknown

I’m sitting and waiting, to meet with my doc, 
The time passes slowly, while watching the clock.

I have a disease, and some days aren’t the best,
I swear some ones putting, me through my life’s test.

Won’t know how I’ll feel, until I awake,
Will I act like myself or more like a flake?

My thinking and talking, sometimes they both lag,
I will go to the store, and forget a bag.

That darn short term memory, is the worst of all
I try handling the rest, even when I fall.

I have to write notes, though they seem like a book
I must write down a note, to make sure I look.

Sometimes I forget things, important ones too,
Like blowing out candles, or know what to do.

The kids say they’ve asked me, remembering… not!
But they are so happy, for what they just got.

There’s good days and bad days, I just never know
Will my eyes go wacky, or stub my big toe?

I must always laugh, or I’d sit and I’d cry
Oops, I burnt our dinner, but gave it a try.

The doorways seem smaller, like when I pass by
I hit the walls, with my knees or thigh.

I don’t want your pity, or sit all day long
I always keep active, it helps me stay strong.

I’ll trip over nothing, I laugh when I do
I hate when that happens, my foot sticks like glue.

This disease has no cure, they call it MS
Hopefully they’ll find, what causes this BS.

Details | Free verse | |

The book the wizard wrote part one

one day 
it will tell you from page to page 
lose no mater how cool play
Kung fu loose
Kug fu loose
but cut it loose
This pace is just holding me down
not knowing how many blocks or miles, when everything is going to hell,
And I’m going down

Ill get out of this trap
I’ll write a book plant the seed to think before you act
and in this book 
we’ll make it right
it will give you direction in your life 
 what to do 
you’ll lose
it will guide you from room to room 
to leave your house 
and as you carry this book with you 
Even if it comes as a bit of a challenge I will make it through
born to please
why you asking where ive been?

win this fight
turn right 
And I know you never lied
I want to live a good life
Guess what its like!

plant the seed to think you’re beautiful
you can play by all the rules
turn me loose

the book wont let you pass life by
or vice versa

You will see what you’re doing to me
Not believing me
And I will know about your suspicious minds
Such suspicious minds

Cmon cmon lets go
 of riddle upon riddle
stop and say hello

to make it right 
of mysteries you’re solving along your way 
gotta do it my way
or no way at all
seven ancient wisdoms and secrets 
you know what makes this what you want
that tell you turn left to find shelter 
 to get here

As long as I know how to love
All my life to give
to get high 
such tears you’ve cried
on a suspicious mind
Such suspicious minds

go forward for change 
live al little dangerous
and turn back for protection to discover truth in the delusion of safety 
Six Tomorrows starts today
that makes us come together again

One-day ill write that book
even on my knees
to make the right to get here 
you will be afraid to be seen reading in the streets 
telling you which way to walk in the beat box
to see me throw the kill switch
I know you love me soo bad
tomorrow starts today and everything changes

what page to read in what order 
as ever page is a poem of puzzles and riddles of a fairytale disorder
 to rage against
where everyone has the feeling everything is going to hell 
brainwash and manipulated belief of dreams and nightmare cults and treason 
shooting the five messengers
but you will lose
you’ll lose

 to me

get off your knees

Details | Free verse | |

Last Dayz

Wha could i say livin i these last in dayz,
I feel like i seen it all i'm no longer amaze ,
This situations tragic, 
Magic Johnson  must of knew magic,
Cause he ain't got  A.I.D.S
And i know he had it, 
And the cghick that passed it still takes a tablet,
So know i walk lke this is my last day on the planet,
 I write like these are  my last words,
The last of What i draw for the Cameras,
Now you can se mind,
The more i write the more bright,
The more you listen,
The closer the closer you getting,
 To words that you say in the wind,
Feel them  like sun rays on you skin,
Yoou mind as well bask in it,
 This might be the last of it,
Cause the sun's done,
The went out with the trash,,
thatsa how it is for living in famine
The sun aint shinning, 
There water fallng out sky,
Oh no thats water in my Eye, 
Im crying, trying to stop they  ^ss from dying, 
Save they ^ss from frying, 
I told em keep putting that work in,
Never stop trying,
Even though somtimes you feel like breaking downand crying,
Just like an orphan thanking G o d they wasnt aborted keep walking

Details | Rhyme | |

Expression of a Poet

A way to reveal myself,
My pen creating art,
Each verse an extension of me,
Poetry inside my heart,

Feelings from within my soul,
Creating substance within a read,
A deep expression of life,
A way to see me bleed,

Society has chosen my place,
To purge from inside my soul,
A poetic world is mine,
Together it makes me whole.

Details | Free verse | |


The money, a sad face without it
Fame, its making us trade places
I don't think it would ever be changes
Still races faces
My attitude now, got me walking alone
Because I stand up for what I believe 
Also whats mine
If I was right or wrong
I still remain strong
Life is full of these playahatas
But I ain't sweating them
Now all my enemies envy me
But why its always a she 
But awkardly a he
To me I wonder if life worth living 
Someone always there to bring you down
Then I ask myself is there really a reason to clown
Thats why I see most people as distinct strangers
They come in your life and one mistake
They mess up your whole world 
I know the world is cold
Some kind of way I gotta stay holding on
But everybody always trying to put one down
Its mainly the blacks 
Im not here to hurt nobody
You only live once
Because everybody won't speak the truth
So basically everyone has lived a lie
Some nights I cry
Maybe because I don't know if I could try
Try and deal with pain
the strain, the ache of my heart
These words that you write me down in history
Like Maya Angelou says:
"You may write me down in history
with your bitter twisted lies
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise."
Even though you may bring me down
I'm still like the sun, the shooting stars, even the stars in the sky
I'm still going to have my time to shine
D--n, can I get some peace
Well when all this suffering will cease
I don't know 
For all you haters
You read what you sew
And always note that
What goes around, comes around
Cause while Im living up to my dreams
You are just a shadow of my life
thats trying to bring me down

Details | Light Poetry | |


Whenever someone needs advice
Or whenever there is a problem
I will be the first to reach out
And try to help solve them

When ever any one are sad
It will bother me all the while
Some times I write a poem for them
Just to try to make them smile

Feels like I am always on call 
And available for everyone who
 Is going through a tough time
And don’t know what to do

I guess they could say that 
I can handle pressure well
And if they notice the pain in me
Well they never did tell

I will do anything for a friend
and try so very hard to please,
but yet I’m left unappreciated,
and no one even sees.

And if they ever need me,
I will be there when they call,
But some times it hurt me
When they don’t see me fall

I feel so unappreciated,
and it breaks my heart everyday
that they don’t care about me,
Or if they do they don’t say

My life can’t feel happiness
So try to give it through others
And I wish some times they see
But on one ever really bothers

So I just sat here alone
Thinking of the girl I wanted
But still find time for friends
But some take it all for granted

I will write so many poems
Trying to change to the word
I will give them a blanket
But they never see me in the cold

So I will keep being a friend
And a shoulder to lean on
And though they don’t care now
They will miss me when I’m gone

But you never miss the river 
Until it’s completely dry
So today I’m unappreciated
But tomorrow its goodbye

Details | Carpe Diem | |

vision box

happy times are here amung us all
we have to have life snappy and right now
through life we all wait for our last bow
we read and write of what we feel at a given time
the poor are rich spending someone elses dime
for this moment the first are first last are last
harass the poor now and you rich will be in contrast at the gates above
white in beuty is are the kind and humble like a dove
my God knows the heart of men here in this place.
in the face of grace i won't shed a tear
even though my time is drawing near.
it's clear like black and white how to have a good fight
find the one you love and hold them tight
sight of a bad world drives the innocent mad
the innocent are few left it's so sad
where do we go from the bottom of the heap
this life is broken to the true and cheap to the few
our days are sort and time is coming for poets to write and ramble
we roll the dice at a gamble of time madness makes us ryhme
this is our last breath last moment in time 

Details | Free verse | |


i don't even know what to write about today
because i can't tell what i feel
i spoke with my dad
that's one of the happiest experiences
but then, 
the bitterness is not yet lifted
because i had a fight with her
my lil' cousin taking her side
today, i never had a chance to write at home
so this work was done directly at the internet cafe
i don't think i'm better than all the rest
'cuz if i was 
i wouldn't be yearnin for affection like all the rest

Details | Free verse | |

My Life --> My Next Poem.

i write about myself
my experiences
my feelings
in thatone moment i can write my life.
somehow, i pour my whole being
into that one poem.
a memory frozen in time
not to be forgotton
whether it change
or stay the same.
tomorrow will be a new day
a new chapter in my life
and potentially
it will be my next poem.

Details | Rhyme | |

Not So Famous

If I could write like Edgar Allen Poe
Then everyone would know my name
Or maybe paint like Leonardo Da Vinci
I would surely know my share of fame

But I don't have any life changing words 
Or paintings to hang on the walls
They'll be no hall of fame for me
Or any other kind of famous halls

If I could tell a captivating story
Like the stories that Mark Twain told
The things I'd write would be on display
And be worth their weight in gold

Or compose like Wolfgang Mozart
My music would be admired for years
A piece of history that will last forever
A legacy that never disappears

But if I were like any one of these here
Then my work would go unheard
And then who would tell my life's story
As my soul gave birth to word

Details | Free verse | |


I know I write a lot about all 
the things money can provide,
like material items and not 
what I'm inspired by.
Having dreams and a keen 
intuition provided by
All the times that I failed but 
I'm still willing to try to fly.
I'd be telling a lie,
If it ever compares to this
So many times I condoned 
when my actions were intricate

I know I don't wan't to be 
I don't wan't to live a lot,
I just wan't to live my life 
without it being criticized,
there's a soft spot on my heart 
I tend to solidify
cause I don't wan't to live if I 
see hatred through either eye
I don't wan't attention just 
want to be left alone,
plus every challenge that I 
face, I use as a stepping stone
I don't need anybody's 
guidance I can live with my 
I may not know just where I'm 
headed but I'll make it there 

A lot of times I'm feeling 
exposed and laughed at,
but in my mind I'll still be in 
It's a heavy burden for a young 
All of which I'm more intact 
hoping the universe can help 
me weather the storm.

Please correct me if I'm wrong,
But isn't life a question in which 
the answer is left alone?

And so I write these thoughts 
down not knowing if I'm truly 
but it's what's left in my mind 
that'll give me a better sight.
A better life,
not just for me but for every 
since selfish doesn't apply to 
the process
Metaphorically speaking we all 
can fly just acknowledge your 

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Transparency ... '

Tho’ Transparency …
I Removed Those Veils, Trying To Block Me
Took Them Away, from My Sight
Oh … I Can See Just Right …

They Were like Specters
who try to Fright and Fight
but The Highest Power
made those (Spectacles) Take Flight

Thru’ Transparency …
As An Old Song, Once Said, ‘ I Can See Clearly
Now, The Rain Has Gone…’ and I Thank God, Surely
For, What A Beautiful Thing, is Clarity

No Optical Illusions, That Second-Guess
… Don’t Need Rose-Colored-Glasses … I Am Blessed !
And Oh … My Visions are Vividly-Bright !
God Said, ‘ … Let Her Write …

and Let Her Stay in Light and Laughter With Me
Let Her Stay in  Love and Luminosity
And Let Her Write … With All Her Might, About Me …
From Now-On and Unto Eternity

With Sheer, Rainbow Imagery
or A Hurricane Intensity
or in Soft-Spoken, Sweet Sunny Dawns
with Moonbeams, Thru The Whole Nights Long …

… With Transparency …

Aahh … I Can See … I Can See …   ( Rev. 3: 18 )

Details | Rhyme | |

Breaking out

I write to relive the pain that's inside
To express all the feelings that i hide
You don't understand and you never will
you move too fast and i stand too still
Never once wondering what it's like to feel
control and discipline to close at your heel 
never crying or cracking a smile
too worried about the working style
completely the opposite, how did it come to be
that someone so regimented is related to me
I enjoy what I do, it's my life and my passion
but it's not your style, it's not in fashion
irrelevant, unimportant, stop it you say
but as long as my hands work you wont have your way
you can scream and you can shout
but you don't understand what I'm about
to write is everything, always in my dreams
more difficult to achieve than it really seems
it's the effect you put in that really counts
So now it seems the end. I'm breaking out

Details | I do not know? | |


                         As i sit down to write again
                        I ask a higher power to guide my hand
                        The words spill out like a song
                         And i begin to write a poem
                         I'll never be as great as edgar allan poe
                         He was the greatest poet i know
                         So i keep writing, and let God guide my hand
                         And if it's in Gods plan for me
                         I'll write a poem for the world to see.

Details | ABC | |

21 When you're in love

When you’re in love you well think of her day and night.
When you’re in love you well dream of her every night.
When you’re in love you well pray for her every night.
When you’re in love you well care for her like nobody does.
When you’re in love she well drive you insane.
When you’re in love you well protect her with your own life.
When you’re in love you well do whatever for her even giving up your life.
When you’re in love you well be with her in good or bad times.
When you’re in love you well wonder about her everyday and night.
When you’re in love you well cry when she cry’s.
When you’re in love you well be happy when she is happy.
When you’re in love you well talk about her every time you talk.
When you’re in love you well get nerves every time she is close.
When you’re in love you’re heart well scram for her.
When you’re in love you’re heart well love her.
When you’re in love you well not be able to live without her.
When you’re in love you well do crazy things with her.
When you’re in love you well write poems about her.
When you’re in love you well write songs about her.
When you’re in love you well call her just to hear her voice.
When you’re in love you well miss her when she is going.
When you’re in love you well tell her that you love her with all your heart.
When you’re in love you well love her even if she does not love you.

Details | Free verse | |

My life is not a joke

It's not easy to put yourself out like this
sabatoge your fantasies
and write down life experiences
glad you are enjoying my 15 year nervous breakdown
but you are laughing at my life
and why i write is to inform you
my life is not a joke

I am a human being
who tries probably harder than you
who sees the blessings in everything
and its unfortunate for soo many they see so few
it's not easy to inform an apathetic world
whats going on in my life
and not take it personal
when you laugh at my attempts at talking myself out of suicide

Talk about ripping my heart open
to give you a laugh
you write such pretty creative things
i write in an attempt to heal
the whole statement here is my life is not a joke
but obviously its humorous
and in time i will learn to put up another wall
i'm sure whatever joke i am fits me like a glove

One of the few things stopping me from giving the world what i thought god wanted from me
and now i'm going to stop
just thought i would inform you
my pain to me is very real
ignorance is bliss i guess
and i can't take that from you
but its been taken from me

I learned the hard way not to trust anyone
love is a trick to get someone else to do what you want
a disease is something you get when someone doesn't love you back
mental anguish and confusion of self medicating go hand in hand
leave you to surrender to the realisation
those ennabling you with street remedies are trying to kill you
and those are facts
the whole point of writing this
lately anyway, is to show myself im not a joke
you want something funny, go look at the other online books i've written 
and laugh at that

My last attempt at having faith in the world
i guess it shouldn't come so easy to someone totally destroyed
emotionally and mentally
and my diagnosis
I get it now
it's funny
lost to myself again
my life isn't a joke
but im sure the punchline of my death
will be attractive to every comedian

Details | Tail-rhyme | |

Inspired by life inspiration

So much time on my hands
Writing is best without any plans
I choose to be alone
I write of all I've know

My work my poems some kind of trail
My lies inspiration for words to bail
A woundmaybe that lies in the soul
Before today I never told

So much of life spent in thought
My words make poetry never bought
Reality is this work that I do
I know I have one just for you

Every mark made every word to say
Inspiration in my life remembered that day
In them go my heart and soul
My words they are writen with this goal

I word them all for your pleasure
These poems that I write are my treasure

Details | Free verse | |

The Opening of Rusty Doors

Stop me right now if you've heard this before
there's the wind at my back and a knock at my door
there's you love me to moons but I love you much more
and we dance and we dance and we dance
Please stop me now if you know all my thoughts
as they roll on the wind in occasional bouts
as they shine in my eyes like the sun bleeding clouds
and I write and I write and I write
Stop me in summer if you're sick of the moon
for she shines less and less as the Luna de Lune
for she swells with a million hot stars in her womb
and she grieves and she grieves and she grieves
So stop me at once while the day carries on
as I open my door to the once setting sun
as the brooding of winter escapes in the dawn
and we breathe and we breathe and we breathe.

Details | Narrative | |

Next Chapter

Life is lived as a book, so I’m told
and we live out this story in chapters.
And we even write of the stories we’ve lived
and regale with tales of our adventures.
Our childhood is a myriad of stories
filling chapter and chapter with discovery,
wonder, angst, joy, everything in growing up.
Our teens are chapters of pain, confusion and
experimentation. Temptation. Rebellion and growth.
Young adulthood … ah, sweet love. Career, family.
First foray into independence and building a family.
Then chapters for kids, school, braces, college …
Then they grow up and move out. Weddings, grandkids
retirements and IRA’s. The book is expanding.
But this book is predictable. This is the Brady Bunch.
Where is the crisis, the divorce or the addiction?
Where is the mental illness or the adulterous affair?
Where is the poverty, the abuse, unknown calamity or death?
If life is truly a book, then we write our chapters as we go.
There is no cookie-cutter life to stamp out and imitate.
Life is fluid, moving, changing, consuming, powerful,
destructive in its unrelenting, impersonal path.
This is the end of this chaotic chapter, a fresh page awaits.
Too many of my chapters are chaotic and destructive.
While the next chapter can’t be written until it has been lived,
I will make it a chapter worth remembering.
One I will want to read again, and again.

Details | Rhyme | |


I do not write seeking fame or glory,
I write simply to ease stress and spread my story,
I do not write because i have to,
I write to help the frustration pass through,
I do not write trying to impress anyone,
I write until the emotions churning inside are done

Details | Sonnet | |

Above Cherished Love, Bless Life From Above--Sixth Shadow Sonnet Challenge

~~~Above Cherished Love, Bless Life From Above!~~~

Taste the bitterness, life has lost its taste
Blood spilled sweet innocence that dried my blood!
Wasted soul where is your life you wasted?
Floods of dead men tales; we drown in floods!

Forgive me, if my soul will not forgive!
Hate lost life and everyone it hates!
Live my soul; love gave one reason to live!
Fate was what we needed, to seal our fate!

Nights blinding darkness; death desired the nights
Faith blessed our love; my heart loved our faith!
Life changed at last; one chance to love sweet life
Wraith my soul I'm nothing; I'm your lost wraith!

Love more than my will; where's your promised love?
Above cherished love, bless life from above!

© 2015 DiLinda A. Adams, All Rights Reserved

Title Word Challenge: Above Cherished Love, Bless Life From Above!


Sixth Shadow Sonnet Challenge! – Please join me; it has to rhyme, 10 syllable count, and 14 lines to meet the challenge. However, if you just want to be creative please do so.





Details | Acrostic | |



I have somethings in ma neck,
I plot a while at ma desk,
I ask, and seek, 
How will I cope with things that I have on my neck.
I was given a test,
A trial and a vet,
I thought for some minutes,
A while and some seconds,
Then, I later put all at rest.
Now, am coping, 
Using all my strength.

Details | ABC | |

just somethin i wrote

They tell me i'm crazy because i choose to sleep in my car, quickly they add up 
how much money i should be making.  to that i can only reply, in order to achieve 
the goals i want to reach i must endure a little suffering now.  i call myself crazy 
cause i wish to write to and about you passionately.  to that i can only say i hardly 
know you.  this is not a poem and i tried not to write in any rhythmic pattern.  just 
thoughts that need releasing, thoughts i've long tried to ignore.  
i try to be happy but its hard when it seems so much is going so wrong.  six 
weeks ago i totaled my ride; my folks tell me God was looking out for me.  that’s 
kinda hard for me to believe when there are so many more that not only need 
him/her but want him/her to be a presence in their lives.  
i work day in and day out but i cant show you anything worth while.  voices tell me 
i'm an emt i should be happy saving lives, but they don’t see the hell i see.  the 
voices love me, i can tell they do, it's in the messages they give to me.  they talk of 
things i need to be doing, and refuse to hear the things i want to be doing.  voices 
are all i have to tell who's who, you see their faces have long since faded in order 
to release all emotional attachment.  
i hope you stayed with me this far, because i'm talking about happiness.  some 
day is too far away to wait and tomorrow is too soon to obtain all i have set for 
self.  i think i'll choose to find happiness now writing, more so writing with you in 
mind.  from this i hope questions will arise, questions that will be asked and 
answers demanded.  my thoughts don’t stop coming though i wish they would.

Details | Free verse | |

writers creed

writer’s creed

this is my pen, my PC, my laptop, my ipad, my phone---
all with which i write.
there are many like them, but these are mine.
my writing apparatus is my best friend.  
it is my life &
i must master it as i must master my life.
without me, this apparatus is useless.  without this apparatus, i am useless.
i must write whatever i like, whenever i like,
for to write is to breathe & to breathe is to live.
both my apparatus & myself know that what counts in the act of writing is not
the conclusive piece written, but the process by which we come to such a 
my apparatus is not human & therefore it does not carry with it the flaws & errors
that accompany such a state of being.
i will learn as i use it,
overstepping weaknesses in myself &
gaining strength in that same token.  in doing so, i will make sure to keep my apparatus fully functional & updated to the best of my ability.
before myself, those who may read my own work & whose work i read,
i swear this creed---
beyond this i swear nothing to anyone, to anything, to anything that “could be” or that is still being pondered---
for we writers are the masters of the “now.”
we are saviors to no one &
victory in any sense, has never been an objective.
this is what we do.

Details | Free verse | |


I feel so broken 
such thoughtless words 
such angry words spoken 

To suffer everyday 
in silence 
to appease 
the person to please 
anger at bay 

a little harder to take 
yet to endure 
days on end 
your mistake 

To write 
your only release 
your only escape 
you only want peace 
your plight 

The heart inside 
dying a little 
the hurt you hide 
you just died 

Always one way 
never exist 
always another day 
such things wished 

There must be an end 
for eagles fly 
will my heart mend? 
or will it wither and die? 

I feel so broken 
such thoughtless words 
such angry words spoken 

To write 
open the heart 
the spirits flown 
my plight 

To all out there 
my soul to abre 
my plight 
for I live 
in the mind 
like a bird of the air 

Details | Free verse | |

There Was A Time

There was a time in my life when I cried and cried and cried.
Then one day I looked up and began to dry my eyes.

There was a time in my life when I complained and complained and     
Then one day I realized it only caused me to remain.

There was a time in my life when I screamed, and screamed and screamed.
Then one day I heard myself and boy did I sound mean.

One day I got a revelation, and it has helped me to this day.
I don’t have to cry, complain, or scream for you to hear what I have to say.

I just need a pen and paper, and my computer too.
Now I can write, write and write for my words have a voice too.
And as I write these poems out, they speak to all of you.

         First poem written in 2008.

Details | Tail-rhyme | |


So much time on my hands
Writing is best without any plans
I choose to be alone
I write of all I've know

My work my poems some kind of trail
My lies inspiration for words to bail
A woundmaybe that lies in the soul
Before today I never told

So much of life spent in thought
My words make poetry never bought
Reality is this work that I do
I know I have one just for you

Every mark made every word to say
Inspiration in my life remembered that day
In them go my heart and soul
My words they are writen with this goal

I word them all for your pleasure
These poems that I write are my treasure

Details | Rhyme | |


i dont write for all the world to see
i just write for me
some times guilt can be like a heavy quilt
some times blame can be the cause of pain
the pain can make you feel numb
and you need to find a place to run
some times the day light can be much to bright
and you spend your time waiting for night 
i know it sounds insane
but i wish it would rain
then people could not see the tears i cry
and keep asking me why

Details | Free verse | |

Lost and Alone (My Secret Sin)

I decided to write a special dedication
Holding her in my arms was soothing as meditation
I met her as a freshman
Her eyed dyed with dryness
Palm to palm 
I squeezed tightly, just so we could get by stress
Watched you laugh as I pressed my thumbs 
Up against your chubby gums 
And even as you were pouting 
Your innocence stretched a smile
And as you lay across my chest 
I soon forgot the happiness I so longed for as a child
And now I miss you for miles
But if you could just find your way home
You wouldn’t be so lost and alone
If you could just find your way home
We wouldn’t be so lost and alone
I write so much better when it’s dim
Sorrow leaks from this romantic film
Into your eyes 
I’ll charm your lips and wipe away your tears
Smile whenever your whispers near my ears
And I wish I could take your pain away
I miss you even more and that’s a shame to say
I’m lonely and on the inside I’m dying
Sometimes I wonder if I should keep trying
In search for happiness
Maybe I’ll laugh for death
I turn up liquor
Hoping that it’ll absolve my problems quicker
Not much of an alcoholic
So I don’t exactly know what one would call it 
I’m lost and alone
But still wondering when you’ll find your way home

Details | Ballad | |

Turn the page.

My heart races as time runs by too quick to notice standing still is I,
warmed by the days burden full from the nights closing curtain,
pen to paper my thoughts take over scribbles lines phrases on the paper they cover,
flashes of a time of a place far away searching for lines that still hide from the day,
inside roams a child within outside a cast of some one he calls a friend,
miss spelled thoughts for thats how I see it in my head,jumbled words always misread,
a laugh from he who is within a laugh for today he knows it was a sin,
the heart scared from a lesson learned long ago in many words it shows,
yet the bitter taste in my mouth isn't remorse suppressed anger are a pity party of doubt,
its the mornings coffee, the rest I let it all go years before now I just write to set it
for it's not what I'm going through but how I made it through,
look at the faces that fill the streets inside of them are poems words phrases they keep,
some times you can't make on your own and they don't know we don't have to go it alone
stop...look around you...your not alone...let it go...your not the only one 
smile and some one will smile back at you lend a hand know now where you stand,
the past is there to show how we aged the present is before us lets turn the page,
we all lived life's we never chose but how we are now is our choice this we must know,
get over it move on stop ...theres so much time to change... your life this moment is for not,
you are...two  words easy enough to say ...the words that come after... are for you to
I am some one, I am..., how would you finish it?what words fit?I am...
this is just a moment in our lives a moment to remember are forget moments in our eyes,
this write is just that words I wanted to say lines I wanted to display,
not looking for nothing in return I just wanted to write and now this page I will turn.

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Dear Oprah

Octobar 12

Dear Oprah,
I know that every day you get a million letters. From people doing good. People
doing bad and people doing better. And I know Miss Oprah, that out them million letters,
maybe you read only one. But I want to tell you about my life before it's over and done.

People say on the list of things they never want to be, being sick or dying is first. I
say, being ugly and unloved is far worse, cause that just stick to you your whole life
like a curse.
My name is Correne and I'm one of the ones doing bad. And Miss Oprah My life is so sad.
I know there is a good reason you don't write back. But life just here for a season, and
then it's gone just like one of Sonya lilacs.

Yisterday I would have did suicide, but Ettie had used the last Tylenal aspirin the day
before- for her migraine headache wouldn't hurt no more. I could have used Willies World
War II gun, but it's been seven years since he had money to buy bullets. I'm scared of
guns and I don't know if I have strength to pull it. And unfortunate we lives in one story
house so the roof aint high enough to jump off anyway. So I guess Miss Oprah, I'm going to
live to see another day. Maybe I come up with another way.


Dear Oprah,
Some time I write you letter in my room at night. Aunt Ettie shout at me, I aint made of
money, turn off that God darn light. When she scream like that, I cry and get tears on the
letter, and I hope in my head that tomorrow will be better.

Today I sit back on Ettie Sofa and smile 'cause I'm watching your show, Big Josh say,
Oprah cant help you. Most you ever goin to be is a fat ugly Ho. Last week he get so mad he
molest me on the couch while I was watching your show. I reach to turn off the TV. he say,
leave it on! I want Oprah to see. While he mess with me, I think bout how your show tell
people to hold on. I want to fight him off me, but he so strong. He cuss me when I tell
him he doing wrong.
  I think it take a whole ocean to hold just half of my sorrow. I hear Ettie coming,
Oprah. I write you again tomorrow...

Details | Bio | |

When I write

When I Write
When I write 
Its like my own retaliation to a world I can’t fight 
But with these put together words 
they give recommendation to my views and insights 
When I write I feel there is no need to all ways come off polite 
There no fear or stress 
For me to come off looking my best
Know one knows of my personal image 
They shall care less 
When I write I give
My talent my skills 
I want my wording to show possibilities of who this person is 
A challenge to a person mine
to wonder if I have lived though a these scares and ordeals 
When I write 
I place no shield 
When I write 
I give it to you how I feel 
When I write 
I give my life some sunlight and give you lime light 
When I write 
I cry tears ,emotions lye here
to say I have been writing for so many years
And still I write 
But when I write 
I give it to you the way it is 
I keep it so real
When I write

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My Taboo

“Do not think about it
That is TABOO
No one must know
Of your pain and anguish.”
They lean in towards my ear.
“Do not write about it,
TABOO is controversial.”
They whisper, whisper.
Leave the past in the past?
I say that I cannot get over it.
“So what?” They yell.
But I cannot.
I cannot let it go.
It is gnawing at my insides.
My flesh is deteriorating.
“Do not speak about it. Just 
Only tell me and leave it
At that. 
People shouldn’t be exposed
To that kind of thing.”
But I need to expose it.
Tell the world my pain.
A new burn rises up in my being.
Anger at being silenced.
“I will think about it,” I
reply, “ I will write about it
and speak also of the TABOO.”
I shout. They are silenced.
“What you are saying to me
is in fact TABOO; you wish
to silence me,
My word is valid, my word is true.
I won’t remain silent. 
I get up and leave.

Details | I do not know? | |

Eyes of a Writer (angel of sadness)

Say what you want
Today, tomorrow, it’s a another month
Right now I feel captured, capsuled
But tomorrow, I’m changing my stars 
Dealt something like a rapture, a lap full
With the misery of a prisoner, I’m rearranging these bars 
The car can stay in the same place
Keep your keys, I supply my own need
Living days alone has granted me felony’s and fees
Got a lot of dreams but they can lay where they are
Hold my starry nights as freight in a glass jar
So simple, so precious, so brittle
Teardrops in open dimples, No longer am I up from the middle
Should these words burn, then they burn
But if they remain, then it’s my claim to mourn
Once more as an old man, I’ll be look into that shattered jar
Only to find a platter of lonely nights in a distant, so far
I wanna write forever
Be we each know I’m gonna die
I wanna capture these dreams
But I’m never gone try
I’m gonna write forever
Tomorrow, you and I may die 

Details | I do not know? | |

The Way I Write

I try to rhyme.
I try to make the world read me right.
The words that fill the papers,
They dont always make sense.
But I know what they mean.
They mean to world to me.
I understand what they say.
The feelings I felt while writing them. 
Whether people feel the same, I cant say.
I cant make people get what I write,
Or even for them to relate.
I write what I write because thats how I feel.
I write what I write so I can unreel.
I rhyme when I want.
I keep a pattern sometimes too.
Whether I do or not, 
Whats it to you?

Details | Couplet | |

And the Sun Spoke

The clouds fell down abruptly upon me this day
As the sun pushed them down, it had wanted to play

I looked to it, with a squint in my eyes
For it seemed so bright, there in the skies

It smiled and said, Michael, please write of me
I want the world to know just what I can be

I am more than just light, to brighten the day
I am inspiration, growth and a reason to play

I flourish the fields with multitudes of flowers
I give people reasons, in those fields, to spend hours

I am artwork, unpainted, but crafted from above
I am a gift from almighty, provided with love

So, Michael, can you please write of me now
Please let them all know, what I do and just how

Please choose your words wisely, so all to see clear
Just what I can do and just why I am here

I said, do not worry, they all know it true
For the words that I write, will be those poured from you

Details | Free verse | |

Ham hog & Cabbage

I’ve nothing 
positive to say today
Just different scenarios 
In a vacant approach
Calling me to come home
I was left wandering 
In the dark alone
The objective 
To ease the hurt
Take away a curse 
For days that we play
Reach for new heights
In a vulnerable scene 
Tip toe on mercy 
To avoid 
the split in my spleen
In love with a phantom
Hidden behind a spotted face 
Out for the souls of grown men
Those who have plotted 
Against a broken race 
Misplaced pigment cells
Only the pig in men sells
Walking on childhood misery
Adolescent years swayed
Mentally weighed
Prohibited the belief 
Of a murdered messiah
Don’t you be so careful
As to let it hypnotize you
He who believes in thee
Can only be a liar
Shall I live
Then death to all rivals
No apologies 
Its just the pledge of survival
The Quran
Your mischievous bible
I hold these latter-day saints
Equally liable
And if it gets no better
Love always
As her emotions led her
An old man as spoken for
Casualties of sympathy
Hoping for a cure
One old woman and ten dollars
Spent thanksgiving day 
Hoping for a ham and a cabbage
But we savages in this ravaged land
Think nothing of her
But you got to love her
Reach out with your cold arms
And hug her 
Rub the hurt 
To keep her above the dirt
“Yes we can”
Do what?
Nothing again
I write for life
I write for birth
I write for you
For what it’s worth
I can’t stretch my intelligence enough
To write for peace on earth

Details | Free verse | |

This Poem is for You

I am writing this poem for you, but
I don’t know you.
I don’t know what you hate or 
love, -white, red, black, blue
up, down, sideways –I just don’t know!
So, I will pick a broad subject
People, yes -maybe even you! You, you, you! 
I will write this poem for you and about you!
“You,” you are a person? Right!
There are billions of people on this planet,
tall ones, short, old, young,
fat ones, skinny ones,
some in good health some ill.
Some will die while I write this and
while you read it some will be born.
We are all the same, people are people but
we don’t think alike, look alike, or talk alike.
Some of us love each other, others hate everyone;
most do both unequally –we choose what we think,
and we think differently. 
You are smart, you can read
(many can’t,) and you are reading my poem
that is interesting to me.
It shows you have great taste.
You are perfect, smart, good taste, interesting
and I bet you are even sexy.    
I bet “You” are too large a subject 
for one poem, too complicated, too complex,

so, I will write about my cat instead, 
a car ran him over yesterday
he is dead; and I have
a half can of cat food in a plastic bag
in my fridge,
useless and taking-up space.

Details | Free verse | |

The perfect shuffle

The blind slide of Freudian slips
half and half cut the stack
face up so you can see the words 
you have written on the edges
of my three worded stanzas
an intricate complex this is
One by one right then left
right then left
right then left

A scrambled message
I know the answer to
a word on the left side 
one word on the top 
one word on the right side
the mensa geniuses might find me here 
stalking shadows and handing out ultimatums
but the game of the blind leading the blind
just got better
right left right left right left
until you run out of cards
that was One
now do it 
seven times
for this is the scientific perfect shuffle

write down the message of the threes
and lets see how long it takes them to figure out the message 
for the psychics
for the geniuses
for the politicians
for the gifted

One by One
right handed card on bottom
blind leading the blind
a victom of an intricate complex
something worth figuring to be a secret of art
as every day metaphors of art inspire us poets

One day we will rise
like ashes from the flame
we will be on talk shows and interviewed 
about our silly games
of how we teach and humble and set up the modern day
an intricate complex
to protect the world
and to wonder about satanic prevention
am I good or evil?
only one way to find out
go forth and get your deck
write the three words per card
beings dream are the jokers

and when you write your revelation of how it turned out for you
ponder the blind slide
point them in my direction
and they can write their chapter of if they followed me or
the martyr of you!
It's really the perfect shuffle
the keys are way out of reach
don't know how many centuries it will take to uncover the message
but i think its gonna be neat

blind leading the blind from one way to the next to mix them up and reveal and 
twist the same message
and I the keeper of the puzzle will claim my fame
in all honesty as I have called out to geniuses
to come help me escape the satellites i'm on
and fake my death

Details | Free verse | |

old poem.

I found a poem I wrote years ago,
a poem of despair a broken heart and stuff I didn't know
as I read it I couldn't help but to smile,
this angry kid who spit hate was me as a child
line for line I could fill his pain inside,
pain that was mine pain I let subside,
I could remember when I wrote it,
I was angry,alone and probably loaded,
here on this spot is where a tear fell,
it was after the line" burning in hell",
as I think back at the things that made me,
I could see that lost young kid who I set free,
back then my writes were as cold as a December morning ,
now my writes are of love and peace things back then I found boring,
it's funny how times changes a person,
looking back to the 80's that was me just another version,
back then I wrote to get way from a world not to kind,
now I write because it helps me when I'm hard to find,
words written way back when my not be as colorful to you,
but my words back then were the start of some thing new,
you see I wonder what would I have become...
if I never found a poem that inspired me to run,
to write down the pain in side 
words I never spoke words I would hide,
poetry played a big part of who I am today,
and reading this old poem...I see it helped pave the way. 

Details | I do not know? | |

Writing a poem

So many emotions,
In my head.
Guilt and longing,
And even dread.

How to pick just one,
I’ve not quite caught,
Because all the emotions,
Are quite a lot.

I could write about love,
Or maybe even hope,
For in my mind,
I’m familiar with both.

But, even I could
 Write about fear,
Or my loneliness,
When no ones near.

But, I cannot pick,
 And choose just one,
But, I really don’t have to,
Because my poem is done.

Details | Free verse | |

These types of poems

I hesitate as I write these types of poems
because dare I ever say he makes me weak
I might lose him before anyone gets to see 
I am used to being disappointed 
So I shutter when a man makes me 
feel such strong emotions 
the type that makes me write these types of poems

I'm taking a risk when I say I feel butterflies
and that when he's around I feel good inside 
It makes hiding the new glow on my skin extra hard
but I fear the next poem will be entitled " It didn't work out"
I have developed many poems off of love gone awry 
so many tears I wiped cause he told me lies
So I must admit I panic quite a bit
when I start writing these types of poems

When I start writing these types of poems
It usually mean I'm sprung
It usually means I'm in real deep
and even though I hate admitting it
I am falling all over again
he makes me feel so brand new
Like the next grade in elementary
or a new pair of shoes
and even though I hate writing
these types of poems 
I must be honest with myself
I still smile when I go back
and read them no matter 
how bad the outcome 
because during the time 
I was writing these poems 
I felt so good inside.
That's something that deserves

Details | Blank verse | |

A Poet In His Own Time

Who am I  to criticize others,
I'm a poet in my own time,
my own place and my own world,
I just write what I see, feel
          and hear.

My poetry may be different,
I don't follow the path
of other poets, but that's
ok, let them write what
they must write in their
        own way.

All poetry is beautiful,
some takes longer to

We're all in this together,
we write the poetry that
fulfills our needs.

Details | Verse | |

a simple poem

poems dance upon my fingers to the melody of thought
warping their way around my head into the crevices of my life
these words, i live by them, my rescue they are

some are filled with love, some with hate but i promise you this, only 
the words of my heart are contained

some have a beat and may roll of your tongue
but some are quite slow and are boring to read

but to me they are my life, i write every day

accept me or not, i promise it wont hurt

i will write forever, until forever is gone

Details | ABC | |


I was standing on the corner, in a place I've never been;
the merchants of enticement, were inviting to come in.
The ladies on the corner; were hoping there will be;
A chance to make some dollars, from any man they see.
The bums up in the alley, were trying to lose the're minds
While swaying to the motions of intoxicating wine.
Hanging in a group, were guys all dressed in black;
It appeared that they were hoodlums, who lived across the tracks.
A grungy down beat rhythm, was blaring from the bars;
The signs outside were claiming, that the girls inside were stars.
Coming down the street and looking out of place;
Was a man inside a Bently, with a cigar stuck in his face.
All at once I heard it, a fight had just broke out,
Knives and guns were flashing and some girl began to shout.
Oh my god they shot him (she said; I think my baby's dead;
I didn't see what happened but he was bleeding from the head.
People from the bars, were hanging out the doors;
And the bums up in the alley, started running for the store.
The guys all dressed in black were frozen in a stance;
And then they started hopping, like in some kind of dance.
The ladies of the night, were trying to make a plan;
They were trying to find a way to get, wallet from the man.
I turned and started walking, away from all the fuss;
I walked a couple blocks and then I caught a bus.
It happened up on Broadway, on the night of New Years Eve;
In the town of San Francisco, the city by the sea.
I was twenty one and looking for some action;
It was more than I had bargained for, in fact it sent me packing.
The next time that I went there, I had myself a gun;
And some fellows from the posse, but all we had was fun.
There were other things that happened,other times that I was there;
And I might write about it, if I see that any care.
So if you liked the story and care to read some more;
Be sure to write and say so, I'll pull my notes out of the drawer. 

Details | Free verse | |

between the lines

i wrote a poem
i worte this between the lines
the poetry is mine


I write a book 
i write this inbetween the lines
the book is good


i write a play
i write this inbetween the line
the play is unique


I write
i write this inbetween the lines
no one seems to know

Details | Free verse | |


I am your idea,
You can develop me.
You can write a song,
You can write a poem.

I am your idea,
You can develop me
You can write a prose,
You can criticise a rose.

I am your idea,
You can develop me
You can use me for love,
You can use me for hate.

I am your idea,
You can develop me
You can use me for your benefit,
You can use me for your loss.

I am your idea,
You can develop me,
You can use me for peace,
You can use me for war.

I am your idea,
You can develop me,
You can use me for education,
You can use me for creation.

I am your idea,
You can develop me,
You can use me for richness,
You can use me for freshness.

I am your idea,
You can develop me,
If you don’t use me, you are poor,
If you don’t use me cruelity has no cure.

I am your idea,
You can develop me
Those who used me are intelligent,
Those who used me are standing in front.

Details | Free verse | |


You can't see the wonder I see when I look into your eyes, from the moment I awake till I
kiss you goodnight I see every thing in you I see the wonders in my wife,
to see as I do would be a surprise to you for no one truly knows what another sees and I
can"t explain what a sight you are or the fact that what I see is my life,

You can not fill how I fill -a body moves day after day working a cycle till the body dose
it without thought- staying fit,hard at work, pushing all I can to always be there for you,
to know you are why I breath,you are why my heart beats you are the soul in my music,my
four seasons you have my world in your eyes of blue.

You can't under stand what you mean to me what you've done to me what I found in you or
how blessed I am to have you by my side,
your not just a wife,a soul mate, are my best friend your my smile ,my strength my reason
for being who I am my sun,my moon, my tears when I cried.

You can't touch what I've touched to embrace you in my arms hold you in my hands kiss your
red lips are rub your soft skin,
the passion,the thrill,the warmth,the sensation I have with every brush of you face
timeless beauty on the out side as well as within,

You cant write how I fill for not even I can write what my heart fills words can't explain
how your love grounds me lifts me up and surrounds me,
how do you put in to words after all these years still being so in love how dose one say
I'm blessed from above no story,poem,are song can express my love for Nancy.

Details | Free verse | |

two inside.

how could this be
     simple words written by me
             some people who read call it poetry,
how is this so,
     I write of things I say I know,
              if any one knew I'd lie and say no,
words in my hands 
     words because I can,
              words I hide for I fill no one will understand
from the lows to the highs,
       these are words that fly;
            as I laugh and wish I could cry
two people struggling with in
       as I write I fill it like a cool wind
               then back to the other again
why is it this way
       humbled by life as I pray
               no one knows the words I write I can not say.
so to you who seen what I hide
        this is how I get by
              words letters and notes...that's why.       

Details | Rhyme | |

Just Write

Just write they say
Of a bio or an article
Poetry is just a hobby
Nothing short of a miracle

Just write your essays
As you’ve always done
They say they like my poetry
But it’s merely just for fun

Just write your diary entries
Continue to nourish your mind
Your poetry is cute my dear
But it’s simply silly rhymes

Just write they say
And that’s just what I’ll do
They blindly see the purpose
And the power of a poetry debut 

© Stacy Lynn Stiles

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

If You...

If you:
   Have something to say; jot it down, write a book, express yourself. 
        But don't use GOD's word as a stepping stone for your own.

If you:
   Have a disagreement; bring it forth, explain your reason, let it be.
        But don't deviate The Word of GOD just to justify your own.

If you:
  Have a misunderstanding; look to GOD, ask for help, trust Him.
       But don't destroy GOD's word just to give yourself meaning.

If you:
  Don't like what you read; close The BIBLE, put it down, walk away.
       But don't go changing it by scientific what if's so you can understand.

If you:
  Write your own book; change it, rephrase it, turn it all around.
      But don't add or subtract to that which has already been written.

If you:
  Love The Word of GOD; read it, believe it, share it.
      But don't try to translate that which isn't there.

           >>> GOD's Word is pure and undefiled>>>

Details | Bio | |

Major Turning Point

I regret what I did
For I am your kid
You’ve raised me better
So I shall write you this letter

I write you letter from the heart
Yet I don’t know where to start.
The holiday time is here
But it doesn’t seem like it has brought you good cheer.
I hate to see you frown
It always puts me down.
Nothing means more to me
Then making your face shine with glee
You might be here for a bit
But please take the time to read it

Your oldest will soon be a Papp
Remember when she used to sit on your lap?
Your middle will be eighteen
Does that mean its time to be mean?
Also his senior year will arrive soon
Better enjoy the time before he joins a platoon.
Your youngest (that’s me!!) will be able to drive
Did you enjoy the year two thousand five?

I picked up the phone
I felt so alone
I didn’t know who to call
But you came to my rescue before the fall
I thought you’d me mad
But at the time you were both to sad
I left you with nothing but the bill
From someone who listens how I feel

But now
I wonder how
I never felt so close to you
Its like the whole thing was my cue
I like nothing more
Then you being next to men when I close the door
That part of my life is through
All to the thanks of the love from you two

Dad and Mom
You guys know how to keep me calm
I love spending time with you
But the time we spend together is so few

Details | Bio | |

My story 2

The nights are cold and days are so long
My life’s passing just writing a song
Song for the girl I’ve loved so true
From bottom of my heart and through

That’s only way to express my feelings for you
Pain, sorrow, in my life aren’t few
I don’t think I’ll see you ever again
No joy for me then, only heart full of pain.

Though our time together was so short
A bag full of pain in heart, that’s what I’ve got
Why was it that we ever met?
If we hadn’t I didn’t have to regret

You never told me you were leaving
I’d have given you a gift in the end
But why didn’t you told me, my dear friend

Now as of you, I’m changed, my eyes never stops as well as my hand
Although it’s like adding water in the sand
I know that it’s vain, although it’s hard to stand
I know that it but it’s this heart that doesn’t understand

My eyes are hurt, my heart hurt, and now my hands
As I write this to you my love my girl
You’re the only thing except from football that, I’ve love at all
But now I’ve found out that it’s all for nothing
A song in my hand that’s too long to sing

The world thinks I’m mad
They are true as I lost the only girl that I ever had
My life waits for joys and fun
I’m waiting for you to return

It doesn’t matter, if whole my life I cry
I’ll live with your memories and one day die
I regret that I beg you like a beggar
Promised to be with you forever

Although I know you are gone never to come
I write poems remembering you as I don’t drink rum
If I was a drinker, I’d have loved it now as I’m so down
But I’m a lovelorn, for world that’s as a clown

If seeing you’d cause me headaches, for what you’ve done to me
I’d have died, because I see you when I close my eyes and nothing to see
That’s when you only thing in front of me
Either closed or open, you are the only thing I see

The pain inside my heart grows every time I think of thee
I’m so in love with you, but you don’t care about me
Why you did never said a word about my feelings?
Long has it passed, still you voice in my ear always rings

I’m trying so hard to live a happy life now
I really want to but I don’t know how
You’ve left me so damn alone and full of fears
Every time I think of you I’m full of Tears

I’ve forgotten the whole world even my own name
But not you my dear, I am the one to blame
To love you so much from bottom of my heart
Now I’m left with nothing as we are apart

Details | Verse | |

we are pencils

We are nothing but pencils 
Made by God: immortal and sacred;
Our footprint on life: good or evil 
And what we write on others:love or hatred.

We are nothing but pencils
Sharpened by parents, places and peers
And desired by God and devils
But to whom we yield is our life given to steer. 

You may write in black and white 
Your plane poems will be gladly commended 
And you may write in the colours of the night 
The man behind your mask will be fiercely rewarded. 

We are nothing but pencils and life a paper ,
What we write are seeds of history ; 
Repentance or continuance is not an eraser, 
The more we live the more we write a golden story.

Details | I do not know? | |

Don't wanna write another love poem

I don't wanna write another love poem. So if this is it than let it stay this way, I don't need anyone 
but myself. I don't want to be trapped in these feelings. Wishing for something that isn't going to 
happen. I don't wanna write anther love poem. Let this be my last.

Details | Free verse | |

A I Read Your Words

As I read your poetry,
I get a thrill,
different places,
valleys, and hills.
Some write of love,
I can feel their joy,
some of the tenderness,
of a new baby girl or boy.
Others write of sadness,
and sickness, and pain,
a few wonder,
if they are insane.
Many like to cook,
their stoves never cool,
good homecooking,
 a comforting tool.
Many have pets,
while writing of the joy they bring,
some are thinking of marriage,
and giving a ring.
Some are across the oceans,
and live in castles so high,
but many are so lost,
we read the tears they cry.
All have a message,
their way to express,
poetry is an art,
a way to rest.
All across the world,
our words unite,
write from your heart,
and have a good night..

Details | I do not know? | |


To the world that reads my poems
these words come from my heart 
some of the pain didn't remain
some of my words are from the past
and I thank God that part didn't last
so some of the things I write
are not always apart of my life
I love to write about life
strife, and hearts that have been broken
and cut by a knife
I also love to write about change
and God's love and grace
please don't take it anyother way
I just love to write this way

Details | I do not know? | |

Till My Blood Runs Cold

i will write till my blood runs cold
i will write no matter what I'm told
poetry is my heart and soul
getting published is my goal
i want to write forever more
i will write till every inch of me is sore
i am so very dedicated
read my poetry and you will see
i am educated
i am a poet
as good as they come
I'm really really good
even better than some
i will write till my heart stops beating
i write so much
i can go days without eating
i write about everything
from me to you
i write about things i wish i could do
in my poems i let it all out
i write so i don't have to scream and shout
i will write till the day i die
because that will be the day
that my blood
runs cold.

Details | Free verse | |


Notes all around the house on my desk, dresser, end table, and radio,
they are poems I write maybe just a line a phrase but words I know,
I carry a pen and this little book in my back pocket that I write on,
I don't want to miss a line, a thought, a poem, are a love song,
I see poetry all around me from when I awake until I  sleep,
on the streets, in the news, on peoples face as they weep,
I see it in anger,in joy, in a heartache, in all the seasons,
I write when I think of you, you truly are my best reason,
you make so much seem so right, you open my eyes,
and when this world gets me down and I want to cry,
I write down a few lines, notes and nobody knows,
I write of love, lost , poverty, from grass to a rose,
from a story in a paper, on the news or on T.V.
in this world there are many stories you see,
when it starts becoming to much for me,
I think of you, of the kids, then I can see,
this world we live in poetry can breath,
from the high mountains to the sea,
from the desert to the city streets,
from all walks of life at our feet,
peaces of paper with words,
a note some thing I heard,
or just one simple line,
thinking of you I find,
words I set free,
in my poetry,

Details | I do not know? | |

agony felt

At 2:00 in the morning my mind wanders and i start to break. 
my feet pace back and fourth from place to place trying to calm down
but i just wanna scream, curse and break things
 but i know if i let go i will be judged and yelled at just making me feel worse 
which will cause me to drop tears.
not tears of joy, but tears of anger and agony that popped up but could have been 
prevented form coming had the judges left me alone and let me release my 
anger and rage
now i sit and write and listen to the music that i took out of my life due to the sinful 
graphic words
but yet it seems to ease ma little the words i put on this page are not pre 
meditated but words of me not being medicated so i have less control of the 
feelings i posses inside
but not even medication can help me get rid of the stress inside and out of my life
out of my life is where i want every thing to be because to me every thing seems 
to not be how it needs to be to make me happy
so what now? i get mad and write about it but still theres no closer
tomorrow will still be here and tomorrow i will still have the same

Details | I do not know? | |

This pen!!

I have a pen in my hand 
and a blank paper on the desk. 
My thoughts are clouded 
I have no idea what to write. 
All I can think of is to write something new 
To maybe ease my pain,or 
to ease someone else's. 
Someone had once told me 
that my poems would help people out 
But who have I helped and what have I done? 
If I can't even write what comes to mind 
Then how am I suppose to help people 
and make them feel better? 
I can't even write how I really feel 
Cause I can't find the right words 
to stress on this paper. 
It just laughs and stares and reminds me 
That I am nothing, I feel it mocking me; 
I'm so frustrated with my incompetence 
Of not doing what I should be capable of 
I feel like a failure, I have not done 
What they said I could,maybe they have 
Mistaken me for a poet cause as I know it 
I feel like I am nothing more 
                        then a wannabe writer.