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Mother Girlfriend Poems | Mother Poems About Girlfriend

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Details | Rhyme | |

Suicide Mind

What makes the decision
To flick the switch
To end ones life
For the sake of it
 
Troubled, debts
Bullied at school
Fork in the road
To let death rule
 
Mums, dads
Daughters and sons
What ever affects them 
They just can't outrun
 
Sadness and tears
By all left behind
Will they ever understand
Suicide Mind

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Sestina | |

MIRACLE AT DAWN

No mother would fill up her eyes with tears of woman...
if it weren't for God performing a miracle at dawn,
as she cried out in joy and held her baby in trembling arms
but shed many sweet tears hearing his laughter so loud;
oh, he couldn't see her mommy's face through his tiny eyes,
and it will be long before he'll will utter the first word, " Mom." 

Now that baby sleeps under the attentive look of his mom,
who's too young to become a mature woman;
many visions of this birth crossed her gleeful eyes
she dreamed of the very same words whispered at each dawn,
repeating them in her silly head as if they sounded too loud...
while cradling a pretty doll in her folded arms.

Will she be welcomed home by her parents opening their arms?
Will they reprimand her and not consider her a legal mom?
Perhaps they will not be angry and speak not so loud:
girls are supposed to be girls, not suddenly turn into woman...
So this innocent girl, deceived by a bad boy, must wake up at dawn
when her baby cries and feed him with scary, childish eyes?

Nights seem longer for her, trying to stay awake rubbing her eyes,
what she beheld in those exciting eyes, now it's a burden in her weary arms;
she remembers that pain was too unbearable, but joy more sublime at dawn...
how will she learn how to care for the infant by watching her mom?
She must have seen a nursery or read a book how to think like a real woman,
and can anyone imagine how she keeps that secret instead of revealing it loud?

She must gather enough courage inside to feed her baby who can't cry loud,
but for now she must carry that baby without sighs of distress into her bright eyes;
and her parents can see the changes making her a loving person already woman;
they may ask questions to why she has gained weight and holds dolls in her arms...
no, they aren't anticipating great news and in doubt, they await a splendid dawn.

Mother and daughter closely together amazed by the coming dawn,
any concealed secret can be easily spoken...somewhat joyful and loud;
they imagine the infant's futures will be part of grandma and mom!
Their reunited hearts come together to show love in their delighted eyes,
and they'll take turns feeding the new-born, tenderly lulling him in their arms;
what if forgiveness hadn't been there to deny her all of the joys of woman?

Would a mother deny her daughter compassion as a good woman?
Even God hurried dawn to offer that gift into her gracious, tender arms...
and those arms accepted it with the gentleness and kindness of mom.



Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | Sonnet | |

Shall I Compare Thee to Your Mother's Arse

Shall I compare thee to your mother's arse?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent

Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.

But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.

Copyright © Flippant She-Creature

Details | Rhyme | |

How Can We Hurt The Ones We Love

How Can We Hurt The Ones We Love?

How can we hurt the very ones that we love?
How can we easily neglect our God above?

It seems like I often heard about many victims
Many times, it’s from a loved one who’s been with them!

The hate and the anger that boils from deep within.
Often “boils over” toward our family and friends.

It’s the love of Christ that we need to find!
His love can totally cleanse our life and mind!

The hearts of many families are bruised and broken.
By the harshness of many of the words spoken.

If we would allow Jesus to rule and reign.
We’d have little reason to murmur or complain.

If we would yield our lives to the master’s will…
The emptiness and brokenness, he shall fulfill!

If we could allow ourselves to sit at Jesus’ feet…
He can make any family totally complete!

If we could just listen to what Christ has to say.
His words of life would brighten our day!

As a family…  Won’t you give HIM a chance?
And allow his love to change your circumstance!

Won’t you allow his spirit to bind you together?
You can experience his peace today and forever!

He can change your family throughout!
This is his will and what God is all about!

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton

Details | Light Poetry | |

' Boot-Legged Mama '

Mama and Daddy was always Love-Dovey
She is His Sweetheart – He is Her Honey
First Love… Real Love  -  Forever True
Pa… I Pray to find A Man Like You…

Daddy Laughed and Put His Arm Round My Shoulder
And Said, “I’ll Tell You Somethin’, Now You’re Older
It’s got to do with Your Mother’s Fame
And Why I gave Her, The Nickname…

               … Boot-Legged Mama

                  Boot-Legged Mama
Blue-jean Shorts and Vintage Tony Lama
Walked thru the Door… of A Liquor Store
… Packaged so Pretty… Pa Just had to Pour

               … Boot-Legged Mama

Ma… Was there, to get 6-packs for A Party…
Pa… Was there, ‘cause of a Taste for Bacardi
He took One Look and Knew He Couldn’t Waste Her
Pa… Gave-up ‘Drank’… Just so He Could Chase her !

Dad, Said, ‘He’d Drowned in Dark-Eyes and Sweet-Aroma
Fine-Wine, Crystal… But Tuff’ Nuff’ to Down-Drama
Pa Claims, Mama’s Labeled by the F.D.A.
And Listed on Her Driver’s License is,  A.K.A.  …

               … Boot-Legged Mama

                  Boot-Legged Mama
 Genuine Woman, Who Made Him Wanna’
Take Her to be His Lawful Moonshine
… Married at Midnight – ‘cross The County-Line

               … Boot-Legged Mama

Alcohol’s in Trauma;  and Prohibition Told Her:
"Boot-Legged Mama… Done Drove Pa Sober !"
Now, Homemade-Hooch… is His Acquired Taste
180 Proof… Kicked All Over His Case !

Right Then, Mama Flowed into The Room
Pa, Teased and Said, “Still Full-Bodied and Perfumed !
Ma Hugged Us, then Handed Me – Old Boots and A Dress…
    (and good advice)… “Go Git’ My Elliot Ness…

               … and be a Boot-Legged Mama!

( Hey !... Did I Hear Somebody, In A Country Drawl ….
          Order Up A Bottle of Kicking Alcohol !
         Well, Here She Is… Y'all ! ...
                  Boot-Legged Mama ….

Well John (Moses) Freeman... You Said You Needed
Somethin' :)  to Read tonight, before kicking up your
heels...  Well, Here It Is (Have Fun - Son)

MoonBee 

 (Thank You For All Your Wonderful Comments
Now, I Can't Get Thru The Door for My Ego.. (Smile)

Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN

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 



Copyright © Wyatt Loethen

Details | Light Poetry | |

Missing You

Missing you is like feelings of thee morning dew. The very first time I glanced at you, something like a widow a woman that husband has died. Wishing we had just a little more time. Wishful thinking believing everything you ever said was true shows how bad I want to be with you. Reminiscing over here dwelling on the past, indicating a desire of admiration I grasp. Adoration and appreciation is what I feel for you, longing suffering missing and enduring the lost just to speak to you. From morning till midnight, sunset to sunrise moving into the afternoon time I’m missing you. Arousing emotional response in motion missing you is my religion. My system of belief, therefor you’re an apostle sent by Christ making me a flock of one in your missionary. Leaving me with anxiety and tension I stay missing. Impatient for your fulfillment, missing you is an addiction and psychological dependence. Needing to see you even for a minute, in a recession I remain unchanged retain missing you.

Copyright © twanna Irisha

Details | Sonnet | |

A Contraceptive Pill

Afore falling in his arms they advice to think twice
Unregretful I act beyond my surprise
It’s the grip of a force, a force here to claim
Compelling, like a moth drawn to the flame

Every night encloses the heat of flaming souls
But sun kissed morning plays a wicked role
To my realization it brings an obvious question
What next to prevent conception?

Like always, I pop in a pill to save the bill
My guy admires the worth of a contraceptive pill
It causes side-effects. Ah! How would he know?
He enjoys the freedom of reckless show

Nevertheless, I look at kids and admire their innocence
Wish the pill could kill within me my maternal pretence!

Copyright © Neha Godambe

Details | Rhyme | |

I Hate Aunt Floe

NOTE: This poem is a humoruos stab at PMS from a mans point of view

I can see your blood boiling
through  the blades I once called eyes,
they were once beautiful  like jewels
now they hurt my deep insides.
cutting at my guts
and like a noose on my  lungs;
your words seek like bullets 
your mouth like sniper guns.
I’m hit with each inaccuracy…
Being killed by words untrue;
and you even got the nerve
to tell me what you think I do.
But let me get mad
and try to plead my case;
then suddenly the world
is a f--ked up place.
You got tears running down…
What the Hell did I do?
We were just sitting and laughing
I could swear that we were cool.
Oh God…
Oh no…;
I should have seen it… 
It’s Aunt Floe…,
This battle can’t be won or reasoned
I think its best I go.
Cause I hate Aunt Floe 
and she hate me too;
she sit and talk sh-t
about the gum I chew. 
The color of my shirt…,
She say my look is a stair;
She say my best has no worth
And she doesn’t stop there.
I didn’t change
I’ve been the same 
these 28 days,
 but now I’m f_ckin A__hole 
Aunt Floe gave me that name.  
She said get out my face 
This aint your home no more,
But I’m more puzzled by 
What was said before.
I love you 
With her glossy eyes 
I knew it was true, 
But horribly sly
You see these words
make me the fool.
The one that’s cruel
That a__hole dude,
That sparked the fuel
To this f__kin feud.
But I swear to God
I didn’t start this sh_t,
Why would I give up my love 
To live my life like in a pit.
 This is horrible sh_t 
Wasted days spent,
On nothing but the worst
I could be bathed in your sent. 
You could be laughing 
While I’m smiling
But Aunt Floe Won’t let this be,
And the only way to make this right
Is hold my tongue  a week.
And that ain’t gone happen 
I’m a person too,
Not soft
But I got feelins
and don’t know what  to do.
Now its been six days
Unbelievable  rage,
She locked herself 
In the room
I call it her cage.
I smell a sent in the air
It wasn’t there before,
Now lookin down the hall
I see an open door.
Is this a trap 
I’ll guess I’ll see,
If I fall for another
 You know that’s dumb ass me.
Curled in the bed 
I think I know that girl,
But where’s the hells Aunt Floe
The one that f__ked my world.
She packed up and gone
Didn’t even say good bye,
Just came wit gang of bullsh_t
And vanished in the sky.
Is that you my dear
Can you please come here,
Listen close and crystal clear…
I hate Aunt Floe
 Next time she here
Make sure I’m stocked
with weed and beer.
I love you punk.  ?

Copyright © Anthony Thomas

Details | Free verse | |

i only wish

                                                              she's beautiful, 
                                                         with hair dark and deep.
                                         i imagine me running my fingers through it.
                                                    i imagine kissing her cheeks.
                                                         ive wanted her forever.
                                                           i need her right now.
                                                            but she's like a bird
                                                      nobody can tie her down.
                                   i wish i had her with me. so i can tell her these things. 
                       and i also wish i could tell my mom, who would be so disapointed in me.
                                      i only wish i could come out and scream to the world.
                                                "I DON'T CARE I'M IN LOVE WITH A GIRL!"
                                                 i only wish that my mother could see, 
                            that even though i might be gay, i still want her to love me.
       so tonight ill call her, my lover (if that) and fight with her when she ccalls herself fat.
                                            i laugh along with her, and talk about her day.
                       then my mom will burst through the door crying. then i'll tell her, im gay.

Copyright © carson jones

Details | Tanka | |

No turning back

A Mothers Meditation

I taught her better.
I didn’t want this for her
She’s followed my tracks
Look at her, life is ruined
She knows not what she’s done


	The Daughters Disposition

	Wow, what did I do?
	I can’t bear the pain she flaunts
	Her disappointment…
	Stings… like a swift kick inside
	What on earth was I thinking?


A Teen Dad’s Train of Thought

Did I? I didn’t!
It wouldn’t have felt as good…
She took the pill right?
What if, she was with other guys?
What do I tell my parents?

"Studies and surveys of young teen males show they are worried the pleasure 
experienced during intercourse will diminish with the use of a condom."
Source: http://www.pregnantteenhelp.org/statistics/teen-condom-use-statistics/

©
All rights reserved
Contest: Mom, I’M PREGNANT!
05/19/2011

Copyright © Wandering Butterfly

Details | Narrative | |

Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Sonnet | |

Bless it be Thee!

May 27, 2010

Bless it be Thee!

Bless it be Thee!
Truly, I love you.
My whole my new.
My heart your key!

Loose lips and free.
Realistically, I knew!
You are far and few.
I can justly let it be.

You know, it is Gemini’s Full Moon tonight,
The Universe is waking up figuring us all out.
Point me out as a random beam of Moonlight,
I am engulfing and enriching charts in route.

Swiftly suited, I stand in my place!
Bless it be it to Thee! A closed case!

®Registered: Ann Rich 2010

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Triolet | |

Pleasures by the Seashore

Pleasures await you by the seashore,
And in the coming months
Invest in your family; today and tomorrow,
Pleasures await you by the seashore.
Your first choice will be the wisest to follow;
Do not put all your stocks in the market.
Pleasures await you by the seashore
And in the coming months...


(1 Year Anniversary Dinner at Sydney's Buffet)

Copyright © Leon Stacey

Details | I do not know? | |

One Billion Rising

Today we rise.

No more hiding in the shadows,

of culture,
creed,
tradition.

No more silent complicity,

defensive arguments,
sickening pretences,
shabby excuses,

for the actions of men,

brutal and coarse and vulgar and obscene and murderous and abusive.

Today, we rise,

as one.

Today the change starts,

with me,
within me.

Today we rise.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Stop!

Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Listen!

Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Think!

Think of how you treat,

grand-daughters,
colleagues,
daughters,
girlfriends,
partners,
mothers,
sisters,
nieces,
wives,

all women.

Act!

Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,

grand-fathers,
colleagues,
boyfriends,
husbands,
nephews,
brothers,
partners,
fathers,
uncles,

men,

all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

When I hold your hand

When I hold your hand
I know its true
your love for me
has truly grew
from a hill to a 
mountain
your the only one
I can count on
to be there when times
are lonely
in all your sweet
kisses and hugs, you
have shown me
your love is my treasure
and we can stand strong
through any weather
as turtle doves,
we fly together forever
when I hold your hand

Copyright © Heather Hill

Details | Lyric | |

Alone

Me... I was standing on that stranded Island...... alone........ Looking back..... into my Life... the past...... I felt.... I was not alone in those..... I was surrounded with my friends, relatives and all... But here in the end.... I became alone...... For ever.... I felt like I was a romantic poet those days..... I looked into the mirror of time..... The past... I knew that I was a poet..... An artist..... A performer...... More than all, I was a clown to all..... I went back to to the time along with my memories.... There I saw her..... She was with me...... She was Crying, Laughing, Teasing me..... I felt....... I was in her lap..... for decades or more.... But today even she left me....... and I am alone...... Again I went back along with my memories...... There I saw my mother...... I was with her ..... for more than several years..... Now, I feel........ My mother was better any way... But I missed her..... All I know is I left all my fellow beings only for my love...... But today even she left me....... and I am alone......

Copyright © Roopesh Krishna

Details | Verse | |

Through A Prison Glass

You came unexpectedly, and i was surprised,
you smiled and placed your hand on the glass and cried.
I leaned my head against the glass and told you i am sorry,
i whisper through the phone line, ill start a new story.

You knew i was innocent but you still didn't believe me,
the only person i thought that would stay by my side but you couldn't be. 
Mom standing by your side and not wanting to talk,
i got really upset that you came at all cause i didn't want to see you walk. 

I needed you, when i was in need,
i was there for you when ever you didn't want to bleed.
I loved you and i cherished you with all my heart,
but before you left your words hit me like a really sharp dart.

You said i failed you,
you cried to me and i knew it was true.
But i needed you to understand me,
but you went your way and upset me.

The glass is now empty and i cant find you even with the fact that I'm out,
i tell you i love you but all you do is shout. 
I've lost you for good this time, 
so i think i have to do one more crime. 

Copyright © Roman Chebukin

Details | Rhyme | |

If You Were

If you were a penny, I’d keep you in my front pocket every day.
I’d shine and cleanse you daily, washing all troubles and woes away.
If you were a diamond ring, on my finger is where you’d stay.
I’d shine the stone feverishly, parting all frets and worries astray.

If you were a novel, I’d place you at the very front of the shelf,
I’d tear out the pages of misery, and swallow the depression myself.
If you were as free as a butterfly, I’d cup you within my hands.
I’d whisper all my secrets, then release you from all commands.

If you were a painting, I’d pose you directly over so all could see,
I’d dust away the tears and guilt, inhaling the particles inside of me.
If you were a bronze statue, I would polish you until you shined.
I’d scour away the torment, and any melancholy I should find.

If you were a flower, I’d pluck the petals of bane from your life,
I’d water and feed you frequently, nourishing the roots of strife.
If you were an eagle, I’d admire your rare beauty from above,
I’d watch you slowly soar into the horizon, taking with you,
my heart, my soul and love.

Copyright © Stacy Stiles

Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart

Copyright © Stacy Stiles

Details | Narrative | |

L O M L Always

The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast

Details | Free verse | |

marking time....to my friends on poetry soup.- the Lord helped me fight death and won.

i don't want to be just marking

time.  i died on november 20,

2008, during surgery.  i was

on a vent when i awakened 

december 2, 2008....my sisters'

birthday. what made me llive

i'll never know.  i know there

are things to do on this side

of death.



i have no time for marking time.

i have a stupid bag hanging from

my side now.  i am supposed to

"get comfortable with it".  well

that was a laugh.

that was a laugh until i thought

of the people that had these

things with no hope of ever

getting away from them.



i am so lucky.  14 days i laid

on a vent, then 22 more.

i came home 3 days, 



then 


i had
great pain in my chest...
.
well this is great i said,

a pulmonary emboli, 15 more

days, three days home.



then back to e.r. blood pressure

too high.  this bought me 

4 more days in e.r.



i am home now and finally 

have spent 19 days home.

i feel every pain and i feel

every time that i feel good



yes, i am never marking

time again.....there is

something about fighting

for your life and your sanity

that straightens things out.



i don't recommend it but

i wish i could let your hearts

know what i know.

janetta

Copyright © janetta harrington

Details | ABC | |

Never Thought It Would Happen

We began so little and young, 
Life beat us bad and twisted our tongue.
You and I walked a pretty rough road I can say
When you stumbled I was always there to make you stay.

Stay and not give up, I didn't give up on you than, so I wont give up on you now, 
We danced our life so brutally and softly, but this time you didn't look my way and bounced. 
I thought we would go on like this forever, but I guess like people say, 
Nothing lasts forever.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin

Details | Cowboy | |

Untitled

Tainted love 
or tired love?
Smug attitudes
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
NOT EVER!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!

Copyright © MARGARITA VERA

Details | Blank verse | |

Biting my Tongue Again

My tongue
has no more blood; 
no tissue to slide through my teeth.

I have bitten my tongue
so long
my message deflates beneath.


©  2011  ~JSLambert Esquire

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Light Poetry | |

Always I Miss You

When I'm home sick, sulking half the day because your not here,
 And getting sadder if I say madder because your not there,
 I remind myself in an unusual way theres worse fared,
 If you don't mind being compared,
 
Repeating the many ways you cared,
 The experiences fondly replayed in many ways,
 Thoughts and memories that make me gay,
 Every recipe, every taste,
 Looking back it all seems in an awkward haste,
 
Now it is what I use to fill my plate,
 It's what I use so I won't be late,
 Staying here learning to appreciate,
 All the miles, trucks caring freight..
 
For your Christmas gifts the children just can't wait,
 But if you visit my mind would quake.

Copyright © Courtney Courtney

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,

and,

until the muck-ridden bile,
is not excised,

I shall continue to say,

NOT IN MY NAME!

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)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | I do not know? | |

For Anene Booysen 1996 - 2013

Hamba Kahle Anene Booysen! (1996 – 2013)


Dead at 17, brutally raped and left to die,
in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

‘horrific’, ‘repulsed’,
‘brutally raped’, ‘shocked’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left to die,

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site in Bredasdorp.

 

Anene was raped,
savagely mutilated,

 

Her 17 year old body tossed aside,

 

by the hands of men.

 

Men, always men,

 

cowardly, beastly, perverted, twisted men.

 

‘Beastly’, ‘perverted’, ‘twisted’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

who now lies cold and dead.

 

How many Anene Booysens will it take,

 

for us,
society,
families,
people,

 

human-beings,

 

and,

 

men, especially men,

 

to excise the ghastly menace,

 

of the heinous capacity that resides,

 

within men,

 

always men,

 

to brutalise, rape, mutilate, and murder.

 

‘Brutalise’, ‘murder’, ‘rape’,

 

do these words mean anything,
to anyone,

anymore.

 

Not to Anene Booysen,

 

murdered at 17, brutally raped and left,

 

to die,

 

in the dirt,

 

at a construction site,

 

in Bredasdorp.

 

 

Anene Booysen
(1996 – 2013)

 

* – Hamba Kahle – “Farewell, Travel Well” in Zulu

 

** – Bredasdorp is a small town near Cape Town, South Africa

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses