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Mother Dark Poems | Mother Poems About Dark

These Mother Dark poems are examples of Mother poems about Dark. These are the best examples of Mother Dark poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Mother is Dove

Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.

Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.

Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu 
For my heart.

I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.

I remember the wood from the wood 
The water from the water 
And manifold items from jungle alleys 
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.

I remember the constant match 
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with 
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.

I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls 
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?

Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.

Oh, mother loving woman 
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.


Details | Pantoum | |

Wayward Child

Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.

Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.

Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.

We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief. 
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.




Details | Narrative | |

The Rose

Once bloomed a rose so young and fair
With dark brown eyes and long black hair

Beside her be a tall dark tree
Whose branches stretch to smother thee

Too close beside the shadowy bark
That soon begins to leave its mark

She cries for help, but none shall hear
Her thorns too sharp, who’d dare go near?

To save this rose, who’d risk their life?
With naught to gain but pain and strife

Alone, afraid, she lays to rest
Her heart beats low inside her chest

And with the hour growing near
She sheds her final grieving tear

And so the rose soon falls asunder
Her final day, eternal slumber

She lies beside the old dark tree
The only one who mourns for thee


Details | Narrative | |

Night Angel

They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Agonizing
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
Bravely
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

My Dad

My Dad was Chicagoan.
He would light up a room just like my Mom. 
He loved to fish ! He loved his beer .
He also designed a Octagon home in the 70's 
Built custom by hand . I was very proud of Dad .

Alcohol hit our Family , a curse .
He left my Mom when I was 14 in Illinois.
To renew in California , leaving a trail of tears .
Meeting my step mom , my sisters age .
My 2 sisters they were accepted in her world . 

Not I , I looked too much Like Mom . Told this all my Life . 
She a petite Beauty , RN , real estate Broker .
I did not see why it was wrong to be like mom ?

I moved in with Dad, His new Wife , and 2 sisters 
eventually . All three women were competing for my Father .
I was kicked out at 16 yrs.

Years do pass , you try and accept people places and things .
At the end of Dads life , he was calling me once a week .
I ordered a Engraved Clock for the Fathers day coming.
This was a issue for the Wife and sisters , never invited to his new home , 2 Decades ~My little Brother & I , never wanted .

Dad passed suddenly one sad Spring Day . Not one word from his wife , all 3rd party,  how and when,  Dad Died . being denied the right to his address , even to say goodbye .
Not being able to send my engraved clock . 

 "Dad Passed " received call  from sister whom just stayed a week with me ,  I took her all around the sites here . "1st day I get call , you should come , 2nd Day after , Dad's been cremated already . " It was a lie.

I went anyway , finding the funeral home, the Funeral Director was appalled at the denial displayed.

He insisted I was given 10 minutes alone with Dad , my Birthright to say Goodbye , he was in dismay over the Hostility towards a daughter ~

I get to this room of mean relative's. His sisters , Mine, angry looks , hearing from a Aunt "What is she doing Here ! " I can't give nor reason or rhyme. 

 Shame to you and all that participated that wicked day.
 Are you Glorified with Power?  Denied the right to grieve , 

 Left with no sane answers to give in hatred received by Blood . Some , just Spouses , telling me I had no right to Say Goodbye to my own Father , My DAD .

My Dad wanted me there , I know he did . I love Him and will never forget , his youngest girl whom looked like Mom . I know in my heart and dreams he speaks. 
 We all see when we leave . May God not allow any Son or Daughter to go through such Evil.

Thank-you Poetry Soup for returning my voice .


Details | Lyric | |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | Villanelle | |

mother WHO i HATE

Mother, mother can't you see?
How much are you putting the needle,
Deep inside of  my heart?
I know the pain won't go away!
I know you are blind to see the truth!

Pain pain pain,
When will you go away?
Anger, hate & discouragement
Always comes my way!
What am I supposed to do?
I feel alone deep inside,
I feel the empty pressure against my chest,
In a prison of hate,
I am sick of the people who I love,
Betraying me & ruining the trust,
God above who sees your actions,
I hope He will never forgives you,
For you who keep on sin.

One day you will see 
Throw my eyes & my pain,
One day you will stop on pretend,
Realize your mistakes,
It will be too late,
I will be gone far away,
I will never come back again!


Details | Narrative | |

Don't Leave Me

I can't imagine being alive without you
I can't imagine what it will be like when your gone
I don't know what I'll become without you
Maybe I'll just run
Run away from everything and leave everyone behind
Maybe I'll find a way to be close to you
Because I won't believe you died 
My heart will ache so much more 
Tears will always run
My eyes will hold the wisdom 
That you bestowed upon me young
And my recklessness will be noticeable
People will wonder why
Why am I running when the person I needed most died
How can I face my life when I can't do anything right
I won't believe you have gone away
When God decides to take you
I'll still come by your house and always expect an answer
I Love You Gamma
You Taught Me About My Heritage  
Please Remember Me When God Takes You
Please Guide Me In the Right Way


Details | Narrative | |

Puzzled Pieces

It was a dazzling day.
In the park where we gathered.
I watched the sprinkler spray.
Whilst Oleander got lathered.

A pierce of minty laughter.
Came from my mother.
The day, now full swelter.
Brought mephitic curses, from father.

My mother,
A piece, of distinct edges, shapes, and color.
My Father’s piece,
Gossamer... A ghost in the Parlor.

My aunt buzzes ‘round,
Looking to peck.
Her greatest skill,
Tearing wealth from flesh.

She is an ugly thing,
Constantly tithing kin.
Her tabs busted,
Only darkness within.

My uncle walks water,
Crying divine inspired droll.
Then he sees foreign breasts,
And his eyes start to roll.

He is piously loathsome,
A delusional winner.
His piece, contrasting color,
A chronic Casanova of a sinner.

My grandmother sits,
By a row of briar’s.
From here smelling sweet,
Closer and the peril gets dire.

She is a dandy,
Addicting to be around.
But when her corner piece shows,
It can cut to the ground.

My grandfather rests,
In the middle, on a bench.
The tether that keeps,
We are bolts, He is wrench.

His piece.....
To us much renowned.
His piece is the core,
It holds me around.

There it is, my family puzzle.
And on the fringes I sit.
See, I’m an edge piece,
That doesn’t quite fit.
With my teeth on a muzzle.

03/04/13







Details | Free verse | |

MY SEVEN BLESSINGS

God bless little angels brought unto me,
Watch over them beneath heavens grace.
My first of seven blessings most precious gift,
Treasures hearts keepsakes.
Number one the oldest, my rocker baby,
Dancing away with musics sweet lullaby.
The lyrical light of brilliance’s, a shinning note,
That strums across grandma's heart strings.
The second child is a testament to patience,
No instructions came with this wonder
Or warning labels tattooed upon her backside.
But she has the eyes of an angel and lord knows,
She try's my beliefs but I'll never give up the fight .
I love my problem child just the same.
The third times the charms, she is that for sure,
With brown eyes and a kewpie doll with dark curls.
Our grand daughter bubbles, whom can light up the
Darkest moment with just a simple smile.
The fourth grace is he, full of strength and daring,
A future NFL first draft pick this is my little RJ,
Patton had his tank and believe you me, Me maw
Has hers.
Diamonds are the hardest stones known to man,
But this boy sparkles with a shine more valuable,
Then gold.
Fifth in line is wisdom and charm, explorations
Future astronaut.
With curiosities wondering eye, but ahead of
The pack in any game of life.
My youngest grand son Issac his name means,
Laughter and joy and in this it is so true.
Tiny but mighty is my little Bella,
With dark raven hair, she has her fathers eyes,
And mommy's brave spirit.
She'll take on the world someday.
And win by all hands clapping her on,
Me Maw's future Mrs. America.
Seven was born on grandma's birthday,
A special gift given unto me is my darling,
Trinity.
Who knows what the future will hold for thee,
But seven has always been my lucky number,
So sky's the limit with this the youngest blessing,
In my life.

1.  The blessings gift is music.
2. The second blessings gift mischief and curiosity.
3.  The third blessings gift beauty's sweet smile
4. The four blessings gift strength and endurance.
5.  The fifth blessings gift wisdom and charm. 
6.  The sixth blessings gift is a brave spirit.
7. The seventh blessings gift is lucks true fortune.
And when you add up all my many blessing,
What does a grandmother receive a full heart,
Hugs and kisses at bedtime.
Good night my little angels and sleep tight.
I'll re-sight my many blessings in my prayers, 
Tonight as I lay myself asleep and dream of thee.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN








Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Rain and Wind

The wind blew events all over the place.
Intense emotions and it gave chase.
Lightning lighting to show us the sky.
People try to sleep and not cry.
Wisping by the wind keeps us awake.
The time trying to sleep the storms take.
Chills in everyone gives all shiver.
The clouds surrounded by moonlight is silver.
Heavenly prayers that the rain will stop.
The flood stopped a car the person in it was a cop.
People have seen such devastation.
The road that people made was week in creation.
Rivers near by was over flowing.
Trees that were there was not showing.
By the hour it claimed many.
My father woke up and did not see any.
Floating by was a boat.
Keeping people above water and a float.
My father kept a canoe.  
That some day we would use it, that he knew.
Time to paddle up and down the street.
The rain water kept getting on our seat.
It was so dark after the moon was behind the cloud.
Still the noise of thunder still covered the ears loud.
The smell of moist water never seem to go away.
My brothers seem to still sleep anyway.
My head was bobbing up and down.
I was so tired that I could not hear a sound.
The wind blew back and fourth.
It seems that my mom and dad paddle their worth.
Till all the people we saw with grace.
Help us out with embrace.
The time was so late at night.
Everyone was so sleepy and losing sight.
The fight with the weather was so hectic.
The feelings of energy was electric.
Losing to such natural disaster is hard to understand.
When people working hard to block the river with bags of sand.
With hard workers like my mom and dad.
They make things happen that is not bad.
Rough with weather they experience more than ever.
Leaders they are they are very clever.
From the night light of street lights to the morning glow.
The wind did not stop so.
Bringing in more clouds that ill.
The people who were still tired still had will.
The rush of water and waves blasting push the wall side.
Pushing and the force brought water inside.
The battle of our hour was getting long.
Backup people came to aid us was strong.
Rested they were to keep everyone with hope.
The people stopped the water with the strength of rope.
Heavy rain and loss of homes bring people together.
It is kind of sad that this was the only time to gather.
Chaos comes happiness how true.
This is why we are human that gives us a clue.
It is our nature to keep rain falling.
To know when it is time for our calling.
The winds bring such pain and sorrow.
That is why rain sometimes fallow.








Details | Pantoum | |

FORTY RUSTY PENNIES

I found forty rusty pennies in a black leather slipper
while my itchy nose sneezed more than three times;
why were they hidden from thrifty mother?
Weren't they less valued than silver dimes?


While my itchy nose sneezed more than three times,
mom woke up to scold me for my loud laughter;
she was mad and wanted to hear anything but lies
and frantically screaming, she pulled my curly hair. 


Mom woke to scold me for my loud laughter,
I tripped on the slipper, falling flat as a bear, 
and frantically screaming, she pulled my curly hair;
with an angered face, I retrieved to my dark lair.


She was mad and wanted to hear anything but lies,
mom woke up to scold me for my loud laughter;
with an angered face, I retrieved to my dark lair...
I found forty rusty pennies in a black leather slipper.


Details | Free verse | |

Boxing day

Perhaps you see me
it may be your gift to see
or merit for hard work
or maybe you paid for it with the lashings you endured
but surely it is now your inescapable wretched curse
as the truth haunts you
but you cannot close your eyes
like me.

It is my fault I am as this
to be as false as I am
false is my name
I cannot love that
I have buried it inside
and run away
because it is too ugly
easier to smile and pretend.

My grandmother saw it in my blackened soul
clever and easy to lie
she hurt me
made me ashamed
and broken
to protect the world and even me
but her tricks did not work
because I have killed too many hearts
and poisoned those that survived
even my own.

I am cold
and it is right I have suffered so
because I lost my heart
and replaced it with a ticking clock
that pretends to beat like a happy butterfly
and tries to convince me I have feelings
that I cannot reach
I am a masquerader of abundant hollow emotions
that laugh and smile and cry
but I never face myself
in the dark alone
because there is nothing to see without a light
my flame has no fuel
unless I suck it from another's bloody neck.

I do not know myself
because I cannot bear to look
but I hate myself as much as you hate me
and you should
because every love I'm given
is less for the world
I am a black hole
I give to get
like Hansel and Gretel's keeper
I only give love
to fatten up my lover
and open her precious tender trusting heart
so that I can consume it in eventual flames
and steal all of their future hope
and faith in humanity.

And I don't know how to stop
and am too afraid to stop myself
with the knife I keep hidden
but never have the courage to use
because I am a dark monster
that pretends to be inviting
like a pristine beach
on a boxing day morning
beckoning humanity
to my shoreline
so I can consume them
with my hungry tsunami
and leave them writhing in pain
with all hope in shambles.

Rescuers arrive in love
one after another
I greet them with open arms
as if I am deserving
needy
blinded behind my veil
pretending to myself until it is too late
and just as they almost open my heart
I swallow them under my next crushing wave.


Details | Free verse | |

Victorian poverty crime and squalor

Born into a life of poverty crime and squalor
where hunger and cold winds bite
and disease is rife
and it was a daily battle to stay alive
and find some food to stay alive.

Uneducated illiterate caught in the poverty trap
drinking polluted water
from the same polluted cholera riddled tap.

An impoverished woman
sells her body for a cheap bottle of Gin
and a lodging for the night
while a pickpocket and mutcher
ever watchful
look for a pocket to alight.

The deafening clunk and clatter
of horses and carts on the cobbled ground
and shouts from the street market traders
echo all around.

Children play and run through the narrow
crowded streets
dressed in rags no shoes upon their feet
The putrid stench from the gutter
and thick choking bellowing
smoke from factories
make one heath and make it hard to breath.

Dilapidated hovels and buildings
covered in black soot
horse manure and raw sewage 
under foot.

Beggars with large mournful eyes
reach out pleadingly to the passing gentry
to fill their empty bowls with plenty.

A peeler pins a notice of a forthcoming hanging
at the local Gaol for the few who can read
upon a rusty nail.

A  Mother desperate to feed her hungry children
steals a loaf of bread from a market stall
but is soon captured  in the sprawl.

The judge sentences her to 10 years
penal servitude far over sea in Botany bay
but she dyes aboard the ship of fever
upon the way.

Her 9 children are sent to the workhouse
for the poor to gain some education
and work hard behind it's hellish door
never to see their Mother or escape poverty
ever more.


Peter Dome.copyright.2012.


Details | Ballade | |

Sad girl rising


Sad girl rising

Let me tell you about this girl I know
My cousin, this girl be
Her life has been so very sad
But how wonderful is she
She was a wild child, till she married
And had her first born child
When she found out that his brain was damaged
It really drove her wild.

She took the Doctor through the courts
Then fought for ten long years
To get the money she deserved
And she cried so many tears
She gained a million pound at last
To help her with the lad
And yet the damage it was done
And it really drove her mad.

Her and her hubby cared for he
And gave their lives to him
It was a twenty four, seven job
But at times it got real grim
She would do just anything
To make his life more sweet
But when she got that Parkinson’s
She was close on to defeat

But no, she struggled with the odds
And though it’s ten years on
Never does this girl give up
When all her hope seems gone
She smiles, and carries on with courage
Like I’ve never seen before
She’s something kind of wonderful
She’s a hero, that’s for sure.

30 July 2o13 @ 1043hrs.


Details | Narrative | |

An Inmates Dark Christmas

An Inmates Dark Christmas....
It was the first Christmas right after my momma passed away.
Any other Christmas I'd be making the best of the situation, but it was a very dark day!
It was a day I wanted to escape from, and nothing could distract my mind.
My body felt so numb, and the pain fed off of me being confined.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I laid on my bunk in a funk in that cold dark cell.
I was emotionally drunk, and that Christmas day was pure hell!
I pictured my momma in my minds eye, we were hanging decorations on the Christmas tree.
It was at that moment I wanted to die, for I just knew I would succomb to insanity!

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
That day I even contemplated suicide, for the pain and loneliness was just too much.
A bonified emotional homicide, for my momma I would never see or touch!
That Christmas I was a man with an empty shell, and a troubled soul.
A day of pure hell, and alone in that cell became my dark little hole.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I thought that day would never end, but then Christmas was gone.
No family or friend, for I was still terribly alone!
Christmas is still the hardest day of the year, but I manage to get by.
And although I still shed a tear, at least I no longer wanna die!


By Jimmy Matthew Anderson for Constance La Frances contest "Your Saddest Christmas 
Ever"


Details | Lyric | |

Nature's Sigh

The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face

So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go

Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh


Details | I do not know? | |

mama

mama how do i tell you its bad again
how the voices are telling me its okay to hurt
they want me to fall
to fall from the top of buildings 
and not get up
but don't worry mama
i plan to shut them up

mama how do i explain how the pain has returned
all you wanted was me to be better
i tried and tried and tried and tried
but in the end, the crazy won
they drive me crazy to no end
i want to make it stop 
but don't worry mama
i have a plan

mama i cant tell you how it feels
to be sunken to the depths of earth
angels are soaring above me
but their happy gazes hurt
i need this incessant chatter to go
to hurt me, to hate me 
it all feels so real
but don't worry mama
it wont soon

mama i can see the look in your eyes
it hurts me too that this is goodbye 
cant you see this is the only way 
for the voices to vanish but my body stay
goodbye and farewell 
ill miss you so much
but don't cry mama
ill be better now


Details | Concrete | |

Observer

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 | |

Maybe the Guff was empty, cancer full moon eclipse

Maybe the guff was empty—Cancer full moon eclipse

Left field call on the black wall phone
faint cry from the distant end
spoke with throat lump of capital
disaster and a troddened womans most
everydom—lost before found—somehow Jan
knew and put forth a celestial no comment with 
I-hope-I-am-wrong-love gesture for the
love torn bull awaiting a cancerfold friend
offspring no spring-perhaps next spring. Anna
soild Anna so poised of classic stock sometimes
never bending to an antiflexible Taurus mood
was caught in a never place,  why of questions-
depleted character strikes. Will the blood
hordes rally for the fallen “fetalrade” and
heal the internal emohurt temperature 
inferno of unknown bliss. Does it ever come
at the right instant? Like where’s a cop when
you really need one—maybe 7-11 therapy would 
bring solice and peace. Forgive the forgiver
and pass your sense into another ability
Keep your mind and your soul for the little 
lost egg. I don’t know know or could never compromise 
no more of a complex juxtaposition of life
and death than that of biobeings so
closely connected that share the same
existance, one within-one yet
percent infinity bonded in a tidewater
liquid symbiosis that no manbeing in time
past or future will hope to match let alone
entertain. Be that as it may, you’ve felt the
sting of life and the creation of flesh for a brief
moment of time in time   and time is that holder of all
events we hope to achieve—your time in both
will come to be—you will share
and create from within, and not waiver
about the fallbacks we run down for
no explanations from anyone will suffice
or reason to make a whole sense of such
a fathomless inconsistency. I felt your
loss deep in my knees and thoughts flew
to your little soul upstairs. There are words
and there are no words—my deepest senses
to you and Dana—I know it will happen for you
as all things come to pass for those deserving                          dave collins


Details | Free verse | |

Life Can Be Cruel

I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
Wondering...
When is Mum, coming for me?

"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"

I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now

I wish God 
Could make my Mum
Magically appear
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
Disappear!

“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!

I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if 
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own

A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!

Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Dirty tears
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm

“What am I going to do?”

“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?

“Is my life worth living?”

Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

A Letter To My First Crush

A LETTER TO MY FIRST CRUSH My Dearest Kevin My hands shake nervously as I write this letter The fountain pen drips the ink in heart-shapes Pieces of my heart as it reach out to you I just want you to know that loving you isn’t easy My dozen of Harlequins and my entire Mill @ Boon collection Have'nt prepared me To deal with a player like you I heard it through the grapevine, That you are heartbreaker and womanizer With only one thing on your adolescence mind My grandmother always told me, that Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free My grandma is a wise woman More like a heroine in my eyes I am the heroine of my life More like a Nancy Drew without a clue on how to love you I am never satisfy, I am curious And mysterious However I am very chary Kind of gal ^ I do believe that I am in love with you today However, I might hate you tomorrow Because you never know with a secret admirer To the man I love today They are nothing more than I can say. I will wait for your reply my love


Details | I do not know? | |

Morning before sunrise

Light is almost clear
The morning is here
Beautiful light, beautiful moment
Your grandmother and all it has been 
Now or then before a sunrise moment.


Details | Free verse | |

Survival Of The Fittest

Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets 
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age 
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
And yet, 
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No friends
No family
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world 
We all live in


Details | Rhyme | |

Hyde

I saw her sitting by herself in the periphery;
She missed someone I knew was better than me.
Two halves don’t make a whole,
But two is company,
And I’m fair with trigonometry.

I don’t care about your boyfriend in Germany.
I don’t care about all the baggage you brought over from Florida,
Your daddy issues,
Your paradoxical self-defeated self-importance,
How you’re yesterday’s big news.
Please, take off your coat, have a drink,
Slip into my ruse.

If we’re not so lucky, 
I’ll introduce you to the person I keep 
Battered down inside
Of me.
The side
That hides 
Beneath the wide-
Eyed mind
Of helplessly
Restless nights.

I had years of therapists telling me to dig into that 
God damned clamoring tantrum of self.
Of course, the only time I asked for help,
I got tenfold pitches for prescriptions;
I got a hospital bed.
And a broken-record of out-of-time doctors 
That said it was all in my head.

And I wished I was dead.

When I was four years old,
My mother took me with her when she did men for drugs.
Or left me in her apartment, screaming;
She said, "Nothing ever shuts up."

The magazine says
I should consider a new medication,
And busy work and meditation.

Sweet girl, you probably don’t care for hell;
So call to tell him that everything’s swell.
In the morning I promise not to dwell.

Note to self:

If you’re reading this,
Please treat yourself well.
And quit chasing nightmares 
That teach you about yourself.


Details | Free verse | |

The Bird that is Loved and Loathed

It burns and it stings.
It hurts.
More than drowning beneath 
the ice.
More than remaining in a 
kindled flame
She hits and I no longer cry.
Why mother, why? 

It burned and it stung.
The markings remained, 
returned, and were relived
Looking, loving, and little 
known loathing were the known 
ways of living.
Never was their pity for the 
child that cried
Never was their relief for the 
child that tried

You were that lovely bird that 
understood the complications of 
felicity 
Nothing looked the same in 
those dewy browns of yours.
My everbeating would cry tears 
of joy.
The others-they were yet to 
appear.
Caring Mother, o' so fair
 You were that beautiful bird 
filled with care.

The others came and were not 
alone. Their two suitors sat on 
the throne.
Rampage and rage why did you 
come?
I began to wither and wither 
slumping along. So very soon I-
the child of fines- became a 
human raceme. 
The droops of the Lily of the 
Valley became the slumping of 
my heart.
My lovely bird the enemy had 
taken you and the person you 
were is far from near.
For that divine nature left its 
intricate self and you became 
irretrievable my big bird.
All of your fairness died.
With that went my pride.
 
Mother, Mother what moved 
you so? 
Your intense spirt vanished only 
to supplement a monster. 
Mother, Monster and your tar 
filled lungs. 
How did I kill that liver that was 
so, so strong?
The lesson of pain was one you 
came to learn.
My darling bird why did you 
turn?
 
My lovely bird and your big 
brown eyes
I'll tell you once, but never 
twice.
Pain is only a flower for it 
blooms and dies
And a mistake can be killed as 
quickly as lice.
 You dear bird hurt me well. 
Though, haven't you heard?
Weakness is a souls greatest 
strength.
You brought me up, then you 
brought me down.
You haved helped, hurt, and 
hindered my blazing spirit.
A hero in my heart-I left you 
down in your deep black 
slumber. 
Escaping those terrible nights
To go for the town of delights. 


Details | Free verse | |

Cold Shadows of Subconscious

Cold shadows form
Blacker bars from locked window
Fall upon the remaining light and I
Wake caged memories as animals
Metaphors arouse the senses
Silence louder grips regret
And all I can do
Is think to run
But, instead I again hold on tighter
To my waning sanity
No signs insist on warning
Moments like rocks are falling
Always continue to pile up images within
That now stirs the soup thick dark 
And begin to play out
An unspeakable act 
Every year upon this very day
I watch from balconies, stuck 
In tragedies portrayed
And now I see…
What I forgot
Mother, lying
Covered about her sins
Beneath, I’m a child crying
Guilt turning always finds its way 
Around the coo-coo clock
Of hands and helpless
To time’s army, life’s ending, ticking, plot
If, but for an instance
I could be free
Free from what
A reality without her
And her needed love
When is enough, enough!
Please, subconscious just let me go…
And I promise
I’ll keep on… going and forgetting


Details | Free verse | |

Absence

The words you force 
The words you yell
The words you fictitiously pronounce
Now becomes you, becomes your energy.
Your energy flow is not lucid anymore. Was it ever?
Your demand for a delusional lie to become reality shames you. 
These words you force on me have backfired. 
I see the colours you wear,
I must now forgive you
The damage has been done. To yourself.

Copyright © Christina Clark


Details | Rhyme | |

Hold On To You

Why am I so selfish?
Why do I live for the wrong things?
I am dying inside
Because I refuse to see the light.
I need to say yes,
But I still haven't learned that yet.
I am a fool,
And I am hurting you.
If I would let go of myself,
I would hold on to you.


Details | Free verse | |

love and care

You are the sunshine 
On a cold day 
That warms my skin 
And makes me smile 
You are the starlight 
On a dark night 
That shines through 
And guides me 
You are the trees 
On a depressing day 
That soothes my soul 
And holds me tight 
You are my mother 
On every day 
That loves me 
And cares about me 
I am your daughter 
For the rest of my life 
Who will always love you 
And always follow your lead 
Without you 
I am a dark day 
I am a starless night 
I am a dying tree 
You hold me together 
You help me through 
And you guide me 
You are there 
When I need you 
When I yell at you 
When I push you away 
You will always be there 
And I will always be here 
Forever and ever 
With all the love and care


Details | I do not know? | |

BECAUSE OF YOU

BECAUSE OF YOU



Just when i thought things would get brought to the light. 
you hide their hands and pretend its all alright. 
My thoughts and memories are not a pa-sad. 
Hell, Its that part where you lie that makes it so hard. 
I remember that December some 8-10 years ago. 
You slammed my own mother across the living room floor. 
All of the brass so pretty on display. 
Ended up all over the floor in such a dis array. 
My brother and I ran in to see what was wrong. 
You all didn't pay us no attention and continued to carry on. 
My mama looked bad tears ran down her face. 
You then turn to us and your anger you displaced. 
I screamed stop and my little brother did too, so immediately i was angered and it was all towards you. 
You grabbed her again and a trophy was near by. 
i aimed for your head until you saw me out the corners of your eye. 
I hit you cross the back when you had her on the ground. 
You reached back and pushed me into the door and it made this big boom sound. 
You got up and screamed that i should just get out. 
I ran to the room and began pulling my things out. 
My mother said don't leave but i had taken all i could take. 
No matter whether a push, slap, or fussing it all was more than a mistake. 
I left that night with a feeling of great grief. 
I said my goodbyes and made it all just that brief. 
You may still deny it or think i should forget 
But you can never make my memories go away if you cant even admit the shit. 
My life is not perfect and never did i claim it to be. 
But those horrible moments changed a big part of me. 
My husband beat me too, and normal i thought it was. 
I just took what example i had and assumed it to be love. 
Now i have freed my mind and my soul. 
But i will always remember until that day i get old. 
You wonder why i never discussed it with you or brought the subject up. 
You would never discuss the truth and would really want me to shut up. 
So to this i stay away as far as i can be 
You will never understand what really inside of me. 
I am slowly getting over the hurt but the truth will always be. 
Call me when you really ready to discuss all this *****honestly.


Details | Rhyme | |

What's Done In Secret Will Come Out In the Open

What’s Done In Secret… Will Come Out In The Open! I’ve read God’s word, and it’s clearly spoken… What’s done in secret… Will come out in the open! I’ve been guilty of this, too many times! I never thought of it, to really be a “crime?” “Nobody’s watching” was the thought pondered… As my mind began to “explore and wander.” It didn’t take long for my life to go “off course.” By a powerful wind of temptation’s force! No matter how many times I took time to pray… This “secret” held on, and wouldn’t go away! I went to church on Sunday and prayed and cried. This “secret” remained, no matter how hard I tried! God told me, I was to give up what surrounded me! This was hard to do, but God was there to help me! Many things I thought I needed, to give me pleasure… Didn’t fulfill the love that God gave! An eternal treasure! As each day passes on… I want to humbly confess… I’m giving my life to God! He’ll take care of the rest! May the Lord Jesus stir a deep passion within… May it be my desire to be more like HIM! God is the God of yesterday, today and tomorrow! I’ve no secrets with him! No more shame or sorrow! Jesus is the Lord of lords! And the King of kings! He’s my lord and savior! My everything! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

Losing Myself

I cry myself awake
In the middle of the day
Because of a decision I made
Not to spend time with you.
And now everything I am
Is falling apart into pieces;
I feel like I am losing you
Because I am losing myself.


Details | Free verse | |

Branded Soul

Judgement day is every day when you're trying to survive in a decent way. Clean up your life and move away, to a new playground for the kids to play. It's an Oreo cookie way of life, broader than black and white. Trying to break to the surface to see the light, but you keep getting suppressed.. it takes all your fight.

Drop out came a long way.. From counting stacks of 3 to a GED. On the outside mamma's so proud of me. But inside she's scared she don't want to see me take another fall, slip up and lose it all. X'ed up, punching holes in the wall. She's cautious for my life, she cries: "I wish you could see it through my eyes".

Accidentally got caught up in the game and chase again. Never had let go, the past was still holding onto my hand. Slowly takes over, but you keep it undercover. Keep it on the low, thinking nobody's going to know. But somehow I stayed on top of it. Only slinging and drugging on the weekends and shit. Got through my Friday and played on payday. Dedicated worker specialized in crazy.

Then one I day my end started to begin. I changed my life and I traded it in.. For a camouflage uniform that covered the scars on my skin. I ended up losing my freedom, tied down with conflicting feelings. Gun in my hand, I was told to defend, the pain and the hell that I had abandoned. The bad guy in trusted boots, ripped myself from my roots. I planted my self far from the town I was raised in.

Kind of felt like I was betraying there trust, leaving my love for a life that's lust.
But then again.. I finally felt filled inside, alive. Maybe there was a reason I looked at my past, and wanted to run and hide. No longer scraping dough to get high. Now I see it again, that pride. The sparkle in mamma's eye. And for the first time it ain't a tear from fear. Can't plan ahead a god damn year. Now she has hope instead of dread, from that knock on the door saying: "Your little girl's dead."

I opened my eyes and I stopped listening. Closed my ears to the phrases of hustlers. "Act classy, you're a lady" was all they could muster. How did they think ladies could survive in these streets? Double standards of life, a game you'll never beat.

I lived how I wanted, they said it was no place for a girl. But once I shared what I had, it became our world. I found the "I" in family, once the pain killers got a hold of me. They kill the pain but bring the misery.  





Details | I do not know? | |

Another Year On

So many things that go around,
Yet in this crowd there is no sound,
The world seams dead and void inside,
And I can’t seem to run and hide.

I hear her screaming out for help,
She gives a final wounded yelp,
She hits the floor and eyes turn black,
Now she knows she can’t turn back.

Those left behind hide up and die,
No one ever wants to cry,
The tears of blood cause too much pain,
Our poisoned hearts are not the same.

As your body dissolves to ash,
The whole world changes in a flash,
No more happiness for us to share,
No more mother to love and care.



Details | Blank verse | |

Apparition

Apparition

October night, northerly wind throws hard rain on windows, 
the old house groans in agony under this autumnal offensive.  
Mother is reading, my sister too has her nose in a magazine, 
I sit by the table doing homework. We have no TV, but after  
years of waiting a phone has been installed, a black fiend on 
the side table. I had taken a dislike to this intrusive ogre, but
 mother thought it the height of gracious middle class living,
 needless to say, my sister too thought it wonderful. 
Familiar steps in the hall, waited for the kitchen door to open, 
it didn’t, mother went to investigate; hesitantly she opened 
the door, no one there.  I wrote something on a scrap of paper, 
or rather the pen did. The phone began ringing it rang and rang 
for a long time, none of us got up to answer it. It rang again, 
mother had to answer it.  She stood there saying nothing as lost 
in thoughts, I could hear the steady hum of a line that waited to 
be dialed. Finally she put the phone down and said; 
“Your Brother is dead”. She sat down and began reading again 
but her eyes were stuck on the same page in the book. I looked at 
my scrap of paper on it was written: “Your brother is dead”.  


Details | Free verse | |

Noise, A Shadow Poem

Slowly... Slowly Mother...
Come peacefully to me... Cries...
Please stop mother... Don't make me Mother...
I don't want to hurt you... My eyes, racing...
No more racing mother... Don't do this to me...
Ill die... No more... No more... Please...
I'm hurting... Shes not here... No one is...
I'm alone... Please... No more pain...
Don't be so hollow... Shes gone... No more mother...
This is the nullification of existence... Crying again...
Please stop! Your killing me... Smothered... Sweat...
Its dark... No room... Yes... Four walls... God...
Sounds... From where? No where... Slashes...
Screams... My god why?! Someone is coming...
It yells at me... STOP... 1... 2... no 3... Cutt...
See my blood? Still dark... Slowly creaking...
Pain... Love... Torture... Mummification...
Terrible... Tear me... Rip me... Kill me...
Feel me... Touch me... Leave me... Here...
Alone... One more? I'm going to snap...
Thunder rains... No one here mother...
No one left for me... Not even fear...
Sorry mother... No father here to help...
Just us... Four walls... And me... One more...
Rape... No escape... Leave me here... No...
Leave me not...
Sorry mother...
I've failed...


Details | Lyric | |

Kurt

i am kurt daniel everdean 
I am 21 years old
I've been playing the bass guitar
Since I was 11
i weight 145 pounds
i have blondish brown hair
and blue eyes

If I could say one thing about me that I like... Its that I never gave up.


things started when i lost my father
i was 10 years old
my mother started going to her room everytime she got home
she would come out with her eyes all red... Shes been crying
until i accidently walked in on her doing drugs
i now believe it was the drugs that caused the redness
me and my brother would fight everynight
when i bought my first bass
he slammed it against the floor
and told me since i think my lifes crap
then i shouldnt have anything that makes me happy
My mom became a street whore
She would dress in a golden gown and wear ugly make up
We would never see her 
unless she needed money to get condoms for her "men"

the things between me and my brother got worse
I was arguing with him over a text he sent my mom
And he got into an accident and died that night

Things just never got better
I created a band called the nocturnal
And the reason you haven't heard of us yet
Is because were an underground punk band in Seattle
we haven't gotten far yet
Just underground party's and bars

My mom ended up running away with her "boyfriend"
After my brother died she blamed me
And told me to leave and said she won't come around me
Until I brought him back

Since then I've gotten a job and was able to pay rent on
My moms old apartment
Hoping shed come back clean and sober
As for me
I've cleaned up. but suicide is still an option

I haven't found god yet and I don't want to
If there was a god why did he give me this ****ed up life
Ya you'll say Kurt?... You made the desicions for your life
I knolw I did. But he was the one who let it actually happen

I've been writing since I was 11
Lyrics and poems
Drawings and paintings
bass guitar and vocals

My life isn't over
But it's sure close to it

Its sad to think that what you thought was fake... Is a true story


Details | ABC | |

No Title

just want to start off by saying, we all know the dangers of drugs and alcohol, there is this one substance though, just one that you have to be 18 or older to buy. I am talking about “The Cancer Stick” better known as cigarettes. Most of the older people in my family and others also smoke cigarettes like its nothing at all, I never realized it caused cancer until older years, but when I found out it was too late, many of my family members developed lung cancer including my close grandmother. That woman would smoke a pack of cigarettes in the snap of a finger, but the thing is she has been doing it for over 20years I would assume. The day I found out she was dying of the disease I was not surprised, but yet she is my grandmother so I felt great sorrow. When she passed it shook my soul, but we know we must move on. The thing that boggles my mind is that the government regulates these substances knowing the dangers, and what do you get a large number of statistics on the deaths of those related to legal drugs, ex: alcohol, prescription drugs, cigarettes etc. But if it makes profit distribute it right? The death of my grandmother along with the death of my great aunt both due to that cancer stick, has changed my mindset drastically on the way things are set up in our system, I wish I was able to talk to my grandmother and aunt one last time, one last time to tell them to put that killer down and resist that mentality, but I couldn’t, why? Because they are addicts, it would take strong support, but see we didn’t have good family support. So unfortunately helping my grandmother mentally was a fail.


Details | Free verse | |

The Suspect

The three of them are sitting there, 
Faces pale in the sterile light;
The father's face is livid and red,
The mother's pale with certain dread
While their eight-year-old son stares at his shoes.
Who was the one who started the fire last night?

Perhaps the father--his foul breath tells
That he was drinking cans of beer
But then again, the mother is pale
Did she kindle the fire with love grown stale?
Behind our one-way shield, they cannot hear
As we the officers debate the case.

Who will be the one to take the fall?
Both mother and father both seem quite upset;
Either one could have struck the spark
That tore their homes and lives apart
But which one had done the crime? 
Neither one of them would dare admit.

"The child did it," I said with a frown.
"Can't you see he wants to die?
An ordinary child would fear
If he or his parents were brought in here
But this one doesn't even stop to cry."

My fellow officers shot me glares
But my intuition was proven right
A psychologist verified my hunch
The little kid had seen too much
And tried to end it all with fire that night.

What a terrible world this is
When we must suspect the kids.


Details | Couplet | |

love starved

If love is a hunger.Then my heart is 
empty.The pains run deeper then 
the pacific ocean floor.So many 
lovers my heart feels like a revolving 
door.I ask my mother to feed me 
cause i    hunger for her love .She 
gave me the left over scraps from 
my sisters and brother.barely 
enough to stop the pain.I ask my 
father to feed me and he only feeds 
my mother ,and when he 
remembers that I have no love he 
says hes fresh out.I asked my 
husband to  feed me .But he cant 
even make food.He gives me a 
dinner mint of lust .It disappears as 
soon  as it touches my 
lips.Countless lovers taking from an 
already starved heart. The inner 
parts of my heart consumed by the 
love given but never received.My 
heart is just and empty hollow lining 
.So empty the hunger pains can 
never be felt again.


Details | Bio | |

The Cry

Why do tears caress your soft face so frequently? 
Why is it that when you cry and let out a large scream, 
Which resonates from deep in your heart do you feel relief? 
Why can you not find the arms of a mother or a lover who can give you the same relief as that scream?  Where you born to wonder alone? 
A lone being that has given all 
Only to find that you have given a little too much and are now left bare. 
No-one had requested that you commit to such a feat; 
No-one had expected you to give it all
How can you not blame yourself when you find that you have nothing left? 
When you find that all has been given and no-one is willing to share?

The cry is God given 
When a child cries their protector responds and tries to put right. 
The cry is not to be left unattended. 
When you become of age however your protectors’ take on different forms, 
A mother becomes a lover 
And your tears are now for yourself. 
Where are your protectors? 
You frantically search for them but only find mocking… 
You are of age now and your cries will be left unattended.


Details | Narrative | |

Harisson

One day when you are big and strong 
I will explain to you the confusion
the reasons behind the way it is
and why you are the one thing that has kept me going 

On that warm day in June 
when the angels took Liliana 
it was you that helped me rebuild my life
you were the focus in my life

Two years old and my saviour
the person I have to thank for life
your smile stopped the tears 
and your laughter raised me up

To my boy, Harisson
In your little two years of life
you have brought me through the dark 
and are my light at the end of this dark tunnel 


Details | Free verse | |

The Cruel Raven

Decrepted soul how blind are thee
To see the world so cold and cruel
From the blood shed of lost lives
Like crushed cacoons of butterflies
Not given the chance to take flight.

You judge so quickly
Of what you can't understand
Than given the chance
To see through the mask.

Why must you be cold
To judge things before hand
Than learning their secrets
Seeing no rainbow in the sky
After a rainy storm by day.

Why can't you accept
Things as they are
Let the cacoons grow
So butterflies can flee
From the silky prisons
That held them back.

You the raven
Talons that slice
Butterflies of life
Hope and dreams flee.

The more cruel and heartless
Lesser are the butterflies
Whose only dream is to flee
To go off to live their lives.

As the remaining butterflies
Fly off to distant lands
You sit on your branch
Not willing to take the chance.

Foolish raven are you not,
You are missing quite alot,
Not willing to take risks
There you perch upon the sticks.


Details | I do not know? | |

Tears Of Blood

In my dreams her voice is cold,
Her haunting eyes so bright and bold,
She tells me she will take my life,
For all I caused that fateful night.

I beg and plead for her to go,
Her vile sole belongs below,
But she insists that she will stay,
And all her games I have to play.

Her wicked hands curled round my thought,
They make me gag and make me choke,
I wish I could escape this dream,
But her eyes so hard they gleam.

As I wake I find I cry,
To see that I have told these lies,
There streaming from me like hot mud,
As I see I have tears of blood.


Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | I do not know? | |

Nightmares

In my dreams I see her face,
Her smoky presents I almost taste,
Her empty eyes cut to my heart,
Her bloodless hands tear me apart.

She speaks my name with ice blue lips,
Her hollow voice with venom drips,
She grabs my face so I can see,
She is never free of me.

I wake up and I look around,
I hold my breath at any sound,
It felt so real and now I see,
What her passing did to me.

I’ll try to free her lonely sole,
This will be my life time goal,
Then I’ll sleep the whole night through,
And she will rest forever to.


Details | I do not know? | |

Again she rises

When I raze each hurt
Brought unsolicited before
Again she rises, to settle the score
I longed for her demise
To beget the repose I sought
While time took its toll
For the sanity I fought
Then came the day, of her passing on
My thoughts to myself,
“Now all pain, be banished, and be gone!”
I cannot recall such a bleak day in May
A dismal rain cascade down
Wretched contents befitting
In that coffin be found
Things buried beneath earth
As expected to stay
But haunting and demons
By such rules don’t obey
As done, time and again
A pleasure of mind quietly slips in
Her malice not lost,
Contentment not to be held
In a fiendish, heinous way
Even now casts her spell


Details | I do not know? | |

Dark Light

 Sometimes I feel like falling,
 Or drowning in the rain,
Sometimes I feel like cutting,
To see her face again.
The Shadows of a darker mind,
Twist, confuse and lie,
I never did understand why she had to die,
I see her face in haunting dreams,
Or looking back at me,
She seems to root me to the ground,
When all I want is to flee.
Her morbid beauty chases me,
Like vulchers around meat,
Her stone cold ear upon my chest,
To cocxe my finel beat,
Amogst this all is one smart ray,
A dimond in the mist,
That hold me close to take away,
The razor at my wrist,
The dark and light confuse my brain,
There never ending war,
Mother I love you and always will,
But James I love you more. 


Details | Free verse | |

Mother Star

 The mother of all stars so bright

That sits with much grace and
Beauty

Casting her light with pride and
Grace

Twinkle, twinkle sparkling
Ever so proudly

With posh she sit’s up proud

Casting over dark shadows that
Want’s to roam

Her light peep through the
Heaviest of clouds

I can see her rays of light
Perching through the old
Black clouds

Trying to rule her domain
Casting down shadows of
Blackness left to roam

But

When all is said and all is
Done

Without a doubt she will
Conquer

And conquer she will

To cast out dark shadows
Of darken land

To keep the beauty and beauty
Will rule

Old mother star the mother of all
And the ruler of all that twinkle
Within the night

She rule with love and sit’s
With posh

She never fear

Never afraid to let her beauty
Reign near nor far

Her dominance rule far and
Wide

From end to end of the
Darken sky

The mother of all the stars
That go twinkle into the night

She proudly displays her wisdom

And pride so full of
Grace

She sit’s up high with posh and 
Beauty

Ruling her galaxy leaving a
Trail

Calling it the milky way right
To her heart

Proudly boldly with pose she
Rule her galaxy.. 
 


Details | ABC | |

lost and found

Im lost in this darkness this 
world of destruction my brother 
is not my brother and our 
mother loves us not running 
with many only a few with 
flashlights who will make it to 
the light as the night grows 
stronger I feel as if I'm weaker  
laughing with those who laugh 
at me and not with me we can 
not be friends because no one 
knows what that is anymore I 
can not love because I haven't 
felt it before I can not give you 
truth because no one showed 
me how, I can not care for you 
because Im careless for self i 
am running alone in this 
darkness with many running too 
some have flashlights but while 
running i open my eyes realizing 
it was never dark eyes wide 
shut is what my grandmother 
says find love in yourself child 
let pain and anger go i feel like 
I've been alone for a long time 
all the while god was with me 
the whole time, i gave my mind 
to the streets my body to those 
not deserving my heart to those 
who didn't need it, they came 
and gone ripping me into pieces 
i found comfort in sin with all 
the sinners but he saved me 
because I'm worth it to him 
GOD came into my room while i 
laid in the dark drugged up and 
drunk and he kissed me and 
said my child NO PAIN, I LOVE 
YOU EVEN THO YOU DONT LOVE 
YOU I HAVENT GIVEN YOU 
ANYTHING I DIDNT FEEL YOU 
COULD HANDLE, my mother 
killed herself, my husband was 
murdered in front of me what 
do i have to live for why not run 
threw darkness no one cares 
how i feel inside they take i 
give, YOU HAVE KNOWLEDGE 
USE IT, but it was a dream or 
was it i have opened my eyes 
wide open i feel i am loved i am 
worth it i am blessed!!!!!!


Details | Free verse | |

My Witch

With her red hair in wild wisps behind her, screeching in my ears
And my small hands unable to block the sound, no water around
To melt her down, the bony fingers and claws begin pulling her 
Out of the dark of night through the narrow window, 
Waking me from my sleep with a pounding chest
And I crawl quickly from the twin bed 
Race silently down the splintered wood stairs
To where my breath is no longer visible.

Lamplight from the living room
Tries to make its way down the hall 
But is severed by the cold darkness 
And I stand, a bare foot mess of blonde hair,
Half in dark and half in light
The line between fear and hope,
Rubbing the tears from my eyes, 
Calming my little heart in the half light.

In the cloth covered rocking chair my mother sat 
Like me half in light and half in darkness
With a fraying yellow blanket wrapped around her
Smoke from her Winston curling into the air,
The ice in the glass whirling as she brought it to her red lips.


Details | I do not know? | |

Rains, Legends of the Wolves

Toddlers teeter on the hollowed trunks and sport with juts of ice. 'Cross boulder bridges, flouting rapids, hop the agile blond and beige. Yet in close chase, for or found, and on uneven ground, they’ll slip. Clots in black and rose bespatter tans and whites. Though clouds may cope the flights of cubs and fawns in torrents spirit laden, steps shan’t be erased, where o’er plight’s edge they’re furrowed. Would least the cliff lay lad to nestle upon drifts of pedals fallow or as cradled by green swaths of summer blades. For if to hope, the whelp when bade need but renounce a bed of clover, might a father’s beckon stern retrieve the slain. But scolds can echo no reprieve where o’er forever’s precipice the yearling brown has left the seasons scarlet stained. Though with the day’s advance, a glance would chance the fact all tracks do fade, in the havens gray, in every trace, we dawdle. It’s the cleft that blanched a mother’s face. Bereft, her tears are gained. And blood ‘s been shed till never, like the rains.


Details | Couplet | |

The Rest of My Days

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
But before I do, please allow me to pray.

For just as the sky has one brightest star.
I’m forever in love with the person you are.

Your heart is compassion in its truest form.
Your lips are moist, tender and warm.

Your eyes are as deep as deep can go.
The kindest person I ever did know.

Your soul is one that shines so bright.
It gave me the desire to want to live right.

You’re a Grandmother, Mother, Wife and lover.
Who holds a grace and beauty like no other.

When my life was as dark as dark could be.
Your love led me to the Lord, which set me free.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Sweetheart, that feat shall take the rest of my days.


Written for Tracy Decker’s “Inspired by the Masters” Poetry contest. 
Elizabeth Browning’s, “How Do I Love Thee”


Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | Rhyme | |

Hollow Queen

She was a free spirit from the start,
Then came the day she spilled off
her horse and broke her crown,
it seemed to be she and her heart forever part.
Through the years she had never been around,
no more smiles just a frown

Endless days spent wasting away,
freed from this life with much to say.
I wish I could have done more to this day.
Mad because I would not pay, pay her way for
loss and decay, well every night I hope and pray,
that in her heart I will forever stay

Hollow queen it does seem, that you've seen the ins and outs
of loveless droughts, such a technicality.....Never thought 
it would lead to your fatality, such a pretty kiss of abnormality.

The final image of your face will forever grace the space in that
deep dark forbidden place, oh how I wish I could erase
for that dark day you lied cozy in disgrace...
...What a soul so out of place, your prints left behind
without a trace, what deep dark thoughts raced through your head,
when you popped and wound up dead, my mouth dropped as if
filled full of led, so many words forever unsaid...Oh what a 
disease you have spread

Now close your eyes dear and I will see you soon,
when I say goodbye, goodbye to the sun and moon
gloomy as it seems I know that I will be okay, even
though I shed a tear almost every night I lay, Hollow Queen
I know you did mean, the best for all and not to fall
but now the stone wall is in place, and you will linger on behind my face

wish I could say I'll be alright, wish I could say I'll be just fine
but to lose a love oh so divine, to commit such a fiendish crime,
to have your melody over looked and seen only as a mime, I guess it
was just your silent time...

....Rest at ease oh wont you please
for your life was farthest from a breeze,
our time we spent was just a tease, goodbye as 
I fall to my knees.

                                                   -JLG


Details | Free verse | |

LITTLE DIME

LITTLE DIME

An audible and humanly painful sound
Is left by the dime in a small tin box.
The echo of its poverty hovers in the air
As a constant warning to the world.
If the dark shadows of solitude
Would proudly rule the boy's little empire
(for a child without a window into the world,
everything is a fairy tale),
His sad and ill mother
Would weave the quilt of her life;

An audible and humanly painful sound
Is left by the dime in a small tin box.
The boy's ill mother,
Known as a quilt maker,
Calls out with a new painful sound,
Not as a curse,
But as her faith;
 
An audible and humanly painful sound
Is left by the dime in a small tin box.
Whose is the hand who put that dime
Into the boy's mother trembling hand?
The hand of a stranger?...
The hand of a missionary?...
The hand of a child?...
The hand of some wonderful angel?...
Whose hand cared so much
For the hand of his sad ill mother?

An audible and perfectly human sound
Is left by the dime in a small tin box.
The dime is reverberantly singing in its small tin box,
Royally proclaiming
- As if it was a golden coin -
"Do not worry, my friends,
Hunger shall not cross your doorstep
As long as you have me!"
 
An audible and humanly painful sound
Is left by the dime in a small tin box.
How many dreams, prayers and hopes
Did the boy's mother weave
Into the quilt of her life?...
These questions mutely knock against the face
Of many of their dark nights;

An audible and humanly painful sound
Is left by the the boy's tear in a small tin box.
The memories have long since trapped
The boy's mother's quilt of life in their silky web;
The memories have long since trapped
The boy's mother's small tin box;
The memories have long since trapped
All of the boy's late mother's deaf tears,
The little dime's sound long since died down.

  
©Walter William Safar
  
  




Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | Ballade | |

Dark and Cold

                            You have always treated me like a sin.
                      You are so cold and callous with no true end.
            For so many years, you made my world so dark and cold.
      All I have ever wanted, ever needed was your love and acceptance.
                      Instead you chose to be so callous and cold.
             You was never there for me to get to know you for you.
             Anytime you came around, my world feel dark and cold.
                           All the words have cut me so deep.
                             You have made me a bitter soul,
                             just like you so callous and cold!
           The day you said, "YOU ARE DEAD TO ME JESSICA!"
                         Well, that is the day, I finally broke!
                           All you ever do is bring me down,
          you are like a bad drug, like salt in an open wound.
            On that lovely December day, those words you say~
      I vowed that day and you would stay someone fading away.
               You are not a mother, you are a monster!
                You make me want to leave this world because,
                            you are so callous and cold!


Details | Free verse | |

Slits

A dozen slits upon her arms, just a couple 
On her legs. She feels her pain is relieved
But, would rather she be dead? 
She slits her wrists, two wide cuts.
The blood drips down her arms.
Tears fall down her face
As she realizes, just what she's done. 
She lies there on her bathroom floor
As tears roll down her cheeks. 
Her body goes limp from what she's done, 
She is so very weak.
Her mother walks in at this site,
Her daughter begins to weep.
Her mother holds her very tight
She helps her to her feet.
What little strength she has left, gets her
To her bed, there lies no harm in her 
Mother's arms. She cried, "I love you mom"
"I love u too my dear" mom says
As her daughter died that day.


Details | Blank verse | |

Root

A long time ago, in the dark lands of the gentile pagans
The people where like giants and our twelve spies; ants!
The spies’ mission went sour and they were almost captured.
Ten managed to escape to our lovely desert camps; enraptured!
The other two made themselves scarce, to the inconvenience of a woman
 Who hid them in the roof of her house and lied to save their hides.   
By and by, our brave woman married one spy and another gentile woman
Married the other spy…oh the dreadful tides!!!
It so happened that our promiscuous spies both died, and at the same time too.
Their distraught mother (for they were brethren) decided to return home.
But the woman who had first hid them made bid to return with her
But Old Childless Mother said “turn away my daughters for thou hast seen I have 
No sons and am too old and ugly to attract a man, for surely any man attracted to
Me in this state must darn well be impotent or desperate!”
The second saw reason and turned back home to her shows for her name was Orpah Winfey.
The one who had first hid the spies refused and said (with courageous theme playing in 
The background) “intreat me not to turn aside, for wither thou goest, I will go and wither 
Thou lodgest I shall be thine squatter and where thou diest I shall be present for the wake keep!”
When she saw that her determination was deeply ruthed, Old Childless Widow sayest unto her;
“Damn, why the hell not!”
So it came to pass that Ruth came to dwell with us, the chosen people.
But she was an outright lazy pile of bones, what with all the sitting all day under palm trees
And gisting and gossiping with passersby.  Well some folk thought she was a prophet
His name was Barak Oboma, he was dark and handsome and he was our leader.
She made him start a war with the people in the East whose military was whispered 
In dark places to be to be “The Talibansers” but that is a tale for another day.
Here ends the unnecessarily protracted and adjusted story of Root: the harlot turn
 Wife turn widow turn immigrant turned prophet.


Details | Free verse | |

Dark Curtains

"Yes!"
"No!"
"Brat!"
"I hate you!"
SLAM!
The dark curtains shook as she shut the door.
Locking it was a breeze.
Her dark curtains flew open and there stood a man.
He crawled through the window,
Straight towards the girl.
He kissed away her quiet tears.
She smiled softly…..

Behind those dark curtains,
Quiet tears always fall.

Behind those dark curtains,
A secret love appears.

Behind those dark curtains,
A flower is lost.

Behind those dark curtains,
A child conceived.

Behind those dark curtains,
Daughter becomes mother,
Son-in-law becomes father.

Behind those dark curtains,
New mother and old fight,
While child cries in the background.

Behind those dark curtains,
Becomes stained with blood,
As old mother kills new,
And old father kills the widowed.

Life and death all occur, 
Behind those dark curtains.


Details | Free verse | |

Songs My Mother Sang

'Twas early on I remember
hearing the voice so tender
     sweetly interlaced
          with loving splendor
Later on I noticed
how the words fell from her lips
     her mouth, round and soft
          smiling gently at the tips
The melodies she sang to me
in altos soft and low
     though words are lost and gone,
          the melodies I know...
Yet it wasn't till a dark repose
I knew how sweet her voice had rang
     for it called me back
          from death's dark grasp...
                 the songs my mother sang.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL.

THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL.


I played that game and played it well
'til it brought me here today. 
As a child exposed and vulnerable,
for protection, the blanket would stay. 
I wrapped it around me tightly
and clung through years untold, 
manipulating and controlling
behind this shield of gold.

I chose to see no further
and exploited every stitch 
'til it lay in threads around me,
but still I re-wove and knit.

As time went on, half clad, I bared
the dark side of my soul 
but turned my head and stooped so low
to make that blanket whole. 
I wore it thin. Nine lives it lived,
'til that fabric was no more 
and the threads I used for cover
bore a festering open sore.


Details | Rhyme | |

Love You Ma' Ma

 Even though it's going to get better everything seem to be torn -
I wonder what life meant to my mother on the day i was born -
Her first child it was i -
Growed to be her little girl that was quiet and shy -
 Im sure she endured some of her own pain before i came in this world -
As all mother's , Im sure she prayed for the best for her first innocent little
girl -
As i growed to tell the time , able to understand the difference between day
and night -
 Through this cold world i pray not only for myself but, for my mother because 
we' ve both seen the dark and because of her i've also seen the light -
If it wasn't because of her making me go to church ; I wouldn't have known
how to follow direction's in the dark -
This world is like living in the ocean and my eye's is like that hungry shark -
 Everyday, I swim around this world looking for some good food to eat -
I know a shark will eat a human - being but, on the flip side we will eat a animal
that we care so much about we call it meat -
All im saying, is when life do get better i want feel so torn -
 I will stand on my two feet and i will know that this is how my mother felt the
day i her little girl was born -


Details | Diminished Hexaverse | |

Because I am...

Because my day is as dark as my eyes.
Because my mug of coffee is always half full.
Because my hero hides in a dark place.
Because my God is as my hero.

Because my eyes are as dark as the lake.
Because I was born into a dark soiled country.
Because I will die and return to this soil.

Because my fathers heart is darker than mine.
Because my mother cannot find the light.

Because my inside is as beautiful as the surface

Because I am, who i am.


Details | Rhyme | |

Dark Rain

The dark rain falls upon the world
  And drowns the stifled cries,
And bathes with faithless vision
  The grieving parent eyes;
And in it’s cold descending
  And it’s desolate decision
Cuts the very cord of life
  With a hand of God precision.

The pieces that are scattered
  Are emotions in that rain,
Bled of designation,
  Swirling down a silent drain;
And as the night approaches
  And the light invites stagnation,
All the trains grind to conclusion
  At a cold and empty station.

The dark rain is an emblem
  And a harbinger of death
 Yet our love is great, defying
  Any stilling of the breath;
For the short time we remember
  Puts an end to grief and crying
The short time that you had
  A timeless source of love undying.