You came into my life, why? I didn’t invite you, I never wanted you around, you
know this , but you will not leave, you don’t know how much I hate you, and yet I
don’t hate anyone or anything. When you hate, to me, it is the same as killing. If I
only knew how to kill you ……. It would have been done many times over. I awake
every morning and there you are, ready to make my life miserable, the one thing
you enjoy most in your life. Wherever I go, you follow bringing your misery into my
life. Why cant you just leave and leave me in peace? I fight with you every day, and
it hurts so much, so much it hurts to fight with anyone, even you. There is one
way and only one way to rid you of me. I think of this often, but then where would I
be? I would not be, because you are part of me, your name is bi-polar. Handed
down from my father and from his father, and from me to my son, but he refuses
to recognize you, so he fights you without help he could get. If he would only say I
know who you are. I hurt for him everyday, and then I pray.
Oh God please forgive me for what I have brought upon my son. Son, I love you,
and am so sorry for what you go through. Maybe someday we will talk again. Dad
Copyright © Kenneth Fordham | Year Posted 2008
Without him beside me, my future seems so bleak, being naïve,
i was told he was not meant for me. Ignoring this world of cruelty
and its power tear our world apart. Now sitting i ponder why I being so naïve from the very start
My tomorrow will never come, for I will forever live in his yesterday. Turning my back on the one who loved me in every single way.
Not even time can heal a shattered heart, but I guess somewhere in his heart he loved me after all
Many times I’ve dreamt of him and unable to hide my tears,
As I reminisce that sad day I decide we go our separate ways,
I pinch myself, as in a dream, knowing it is not true,
How could I let go of such a man, no woman would ever do.
I remember the look in his eyes when he dropped by and found my note. Pain crippled on his face leaving such a heart in pain, as he read along “My heart is with you but I will forever be alone, never will you and I share a place of our own. Rejected by all to cross the color line thinking my love is blind".
If again such a love should come my way, I’d break free of those dark days I’d confess my true heart and reject the rest and break through this racial barrier and fallow my lovers path wherever he lead to ease this heart that beat to grieve.
Copyright © kelleyana junique | Year Posted 2011
It is always okay just to say
'I am sorry'
I know living with me is sometimes
hard, but the thought of living
without you break my heart.
In our good and in our bad times
In our worst moments you stand
by my side; to know that you
haven't given up on me encourage
me to be a better person and
strengthen my heart.
You accept me, you respect me
you appreciate me: ignoring all my
Your presence in my life bring me
new hopes knowing that i have you
to fight with me and i am prepare to
fight with you.
So much had happen in the past but
you understand and tolerate it all and
now i know it's because you have a
With you i realize how much i have
to be thankful for and let me say that
i am sorry for all those wrongs which
I've done to you.
Those which i did knowingly and those
which i did unknowingly and because
i am not perfect i also want to say
sorry for my future mistakes which might
You along with your wonderful love help
me to see just how much i have in front
Thank you for loving me and i am very
sorry if sometimes i cause you to worry.
Copyright © Carlton Dean Morris | Year Posted 2015
Cold, callus, crying, shivering,
and covered in sweat.
Wondering what has happened.
Not yet understanding this fate I’ve met.
What of a guy that stumbled around,
just trying his hardest to show he’d been found,
after all he had just been purchased
from the human pound.
That promise to you.
Man I broke it.
I told you Id stop,
and for a time I did,
but that stuff two blocks away,
my will power just wasn't work-n.
My wrist watch again broken.
Always from the look on my face,
you could tell Id been smoke-n.
You tried so hard,
but the mind wasn’t mine.
only a shell of what used to be,
all of me you were trying to find,
and I didn’t get this till my alone time.
I was pushing.
You were pulling.
Then it all pushed you away.
It was all down hill from here,
so naturally you couldn’t stay.
I sit here so sad
for the way you must of felt.
Let alone how you dealt.
Ill never understand how I could do this to you.
You're so prefect,
even your aura dances in ambient light.
You’re the best friend I could of had,
and that leaves me really mad,
that the rest of the world
may never know what we had.
The thing is I know now,
that you loving me.
This really was Much more,
than I loving you.
~Ha,Turned around this insecurity was always mine.~
Copyright © jay o'neal | Year Posted 2011
A man sitting across from a woman; while in conversation gets close and closer to her face. the closer he gets the more his skins just melts upon and morphs onto her; becoming a human blob of sorts while consuming her. people walking down the street start grabbing their chest as if were obtaining the results of a heart attack; start having upright siezures and transforming into monsters. some elderly fellow answering his doorbell to a man in sunglasses that smiles, just smiles at him. his grin becomes wider and larger, just becoming a face of teeth. golden retriever puppies playing on a grassy field, bouncing around over white small moths and butterflies. two viking brothers sitting at a wooden table talking about their battles of old. a young boy standing across from a microphone on a dark lit stage, with empty chairs infront of him; wondering why he never spoke. A teenage girl whispering to a teenage boy about how fun last night was and she pulls away and laughs for the memory made. a boy dying in his hopital bed playing with his superman action figure, the life supports machines echoing through the halls. a giant hole appearing in the sky, slowly sucking away the color of the earth...
want to play a game?
1 2 3 4 5 6 9
eve ry one is fee ling fine.
stars are bright.
for they burn.
touch them. and see. what. you. learn.
1 2 3 4 8 9 10
chil dren should go.
straight. to. bed.
Copyright © Jessica Arteaga | Year Posted 2012
Eye chased mye deer into the rough the golf was tough and leathery the ball
wound up in the gulf near the coarse leather coat the top coated layer of infinity.
When every internet address is placed into the category suited to it best and
every number has been named and everyone is best at what they do not just
where they are could it be hard to let them off to la la land to make them just to
understand the slot the slotted place therein. The lob lolly cained there was two
of them they rub and shudder expectantly in exctasy like twine boarding a fence
posting to the dead letter offices in all the land. The firmimentnation of the united
stations was attacked with hate the rabbit tripped over the log anon and said
quite frankly my dear eye don't give a darn who who is. They drugged the maiden
dragged her screaming from the bed the water stain will set in the rug don't ewe
understand it was to be this afternoon not later in the day not tomorrow anyway it
has to be soon after noon. The goon dropped a cup and he grumbled and he
gripped it in one hand and it slide like the banana peeling from the tree shaded
oasis banana vines green black men picking them forking bales of hey what was
that noise a student in the background just redialing all his porn so sure that all
those girls are doing time to make him worn. Egads the Chounds are about us
they have been released on Edgar come Allen forward POE. They foxed the
kittens and sometimes the medical officer gets some extra hush money to look
the other way is danger danger warning warning the alien is coming. When you
must explain anything a joke or silent laughter a penny for your thoughts the
hidden manna best sometimes to leave unsaid the thing so evident for iff she
has not gotten it a lenghty explainnation will not further it along the windsome
parapet the jester faking it has lost the thread the limits of the outer kind
surpassed in unbelief. Nothing is perfect in scrabble blast eye have noticed
sometimes there is only one tile left over but it still gives ewe the option of
scrambling the letters and it even tosses the tile up in a vain attempt to move the
thing in semblance of the shuffeling required by law in this game. Survival
dictates like a witch brewing portents in the ditch poor and sinful man disgraced
walking to the human race the chounds to chase.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
I am what you call a hopeless
But im also a lost lovers cause, my
heart belongs to another
Yet in my head a love triangle starts
to form, the girl I love doesn’t love
She holds the heart to another and
mine caged to the floor,
She isn’t afraid to fight for what she
wants, not even when it comes to
leaving another man torn
Trust me she’s happy, as that boy
holds her heart ever so close
Seeing what I shouldn’t I smile as I
wear my blind fold,
Blind to everything around, lifeless
staring into air
My train of thought running so fast,
the second I stop you’ll hear a crash
Derailing my hope, for ever finding a
love so pure & rare
Wishing I could hold the hand of the
lover who stole my flame,
Wish I could change the last days in
which we parted ways,
Realizing now that we can never be
Finally saying it out loud as tears run
down my face
You stole my happiness, as I walked
away that day
But it’s because as of what you said
I guessed I changed,
Now every relationship has just be
No one can seem to bring back that
Because a love likes ours comes
once in a lifetime
Well at least it does to me,
But I mean you’re happy with who
I mean I only wrote this as I heard
exchanging “I love you” flow from
each of your lips.
Copyright © Mark Ramon | Year Posted 2013
IF I WERE GRANTED FORTUNE N' FAME...
THOSE WHO CONSIDER ME LIABILITY,WOULD ACKNOWLEDGE ME LOVED
TH' SPILLING OF MY BLOOD,MIGHT EVEN BRING A STITCH OF COMPASSION
I'D NEVER BE ALONE,'LESS I REQUESTED ME LET BE
COMPANY DOES NOT LOVE MISERY,SO NOW I'M KEPT AT A DISTANCE
ALL I EVER WANTED OUT OF LIFE,WAS TO RECIEVE AS MUCH CARE AS I GIVE
BUT MOOT IS TH' FACT,THEY WANT ME OUT OF MIND N' VIEW
LITTLE IT IS KNOWN,OF TH' AFFLICTIONS I MUST ENDURE...FOR THEM
IF I WROUGHT MIRACLES AT WILL,TH' MEEK WOULD 'DEED RULE
SINS OF TH' SHAMELESS,WOULD ALL BE MADE KNOWN
A SILVER'D SCREEN OF TH' SKIES,WOULD DISPLAY THEIR DESECRATIONS
VICTIMS OF THEIR TRESSPASSES,WOULD DECIDE OF THEIR FATES
FAR FROM BEING PERFECT,I TOO...WOULD BE ASHAMED
BUT FOR SCARLET OF PAST BREACHINGS,I WOULD BEG FOR TH' BLANCHING
NEVER THAN LESS...THEIR WILL WOULD BE DONE
FOR FUTILE IS FORGIVENESS,IF NOT TRULY...
...IT IS WON
Copyright © Randall Martin | Year Posted 2010
Listen to the wind as it crashes into the towns and villages and downs mighty trees,
Stand still, let it blow until you nearly fall, face its anger and lean into the cold wind,
It brings snow so heavy, flakes will bite your face, freeze your wet golden pig tails
Stand in the blizzard then fall to the ground and stay there, this is your judgement day,
It's time to reflect darkest needs, and the moral ruin in that space, of your passing years.
Listen to the wind bending boughs, branches and the flow of a turbid stream of pollution,
A pollution that floats the wretched souls and bodies of all mankind to death and to hell,
You hear a sound of branches creaking under the strain of despicable wrongs in your life,
It's a mighty power that takes away the beat of the immoral pulse of your sorry humanity,
So now you are ready to listen, so listen hard, but then you know your own sorry story.
Listen to the wind and hail sweeping over dead leaves, throwing them into a black sky,
Do leaves shiver or do they shout out loud in rage as they are scooped up in a frenzy,
Will you pray to your god, ask him for forgiveness as this is your last day on earth,
Or will you beg in the tattered slops of your own righteousness just to save yourself,
Listen to the tolling of the old passing bell that swings in your black dome of vice.
You will feel the devils havoc amongst immortal souls, a hell fire dwelling in your heart,
A story of your progress a disease of lies which sucked away all goodness from your days,
Lies have plucked the red roses from childhood and set a brand of hate on your wet brow,
The story of lies which have stalked and spread up and down the earth for many centuries,
Lies that sweeps millions upon millions to destruction, for this disease there is no cure.
How many sighs have been noted down in your heaven and how many tears were for yourself,
Those too often troubled fountains flowing like April showers, your wolf's tears fallen,
How many hearts have you broken in loveless famine, all for a want of an act of kindness,
See how deep the dyes painted in your days, a selfish dense black cloud as the background,
So look behind you, see the old man carrying his scythe, he is waiting and he has patience.
Listen hard, listen well, do you hear trumpets blare over the crashing white landscapes,
Will you pray brimstone or treacle and tell the wind your sins the unacceptable truth's,
Did you sit and drink your wine murmuring everlasting hate in a rich full flavoured voice.
You are just a blank space in a world of nothingness a mere sour taste in the universe,
Your vicious wrongs telling the same old stories heard by thousands, thousands of times,
You close your mind and pretend to forget what cannot be forgotten, tell me are you bad,
Because I would like to know if you think you are a good example, I would like to know.
Copyright © Terry Trainor | Year Posted 2013
They want to enjoy
As they drink beer too much]
They think the result will be glad
And they laugh about it
Suddenly she fails to walk
He also loses memory complete
Their prediction is wrong
They support on each walking going wrong way
They didn’t listen to their parent’s advice
At least someone told you’re going the wrong way
Now they can’t move again
They sit in confusion blaming each other
They sit until they are normal
They now reject what they did
Although they think it was fun
As they disobeyed parental advice
Copyright © tanaka chirombo | Year Posted 2013
DOING WHAT THE JESUS SAID
Eye am risking the loss of some merits to at least prove to some of you that to do
the works of JESUS is the right and lawful thing to do the man was just like me
he seems to be a homeless and eye asked him to share my food he said no he
was taken care of a food card from the service. Eye wound up giving nothing but
a courtesy yet my blessing is unending the words that JESUS speaks are meant
to be the life we breathe and giving is so certainly the thing to do. Not bragging
unnecessarily just letting people knoe to do the works he says to do. Offer
someone food if they can take it it will help you if they refuse it you can eat it
seems to me there is nothing there to lose. Now the food eye have to eat is better
for the act of sharing even the man is not eating with me the food it's doubly
better in proportions. Show me the house that's built on stilts that's built on sand.
There is a temporary church that meets inside the main church building they
usually start the service at nine thirty today they went out on a run away there was
no church service even eye usually go just to knell down near the table and thank
Jesus for the offering there there is Coffee and some coffee cake and other
things as well but today eye am on mye own attempting more than one thing at a
time it seems beyond the eye trying to stay hooked into the wonder of this life for
it seems like GOD is just like Santa Clause to me when we have it in our heart to
do he sees it just the same.
Eye still carry my raincoat my umbrella even though it has not rained for many
weeks I'm ready. The place eye like to visit has been pulled out from under me
the preacher needs to visit his own prayer room just to see how dark his heart is
to become without his love. He warned me not to trespass and so far eye have
not been back but the wonder of it all is that the place still seems to stand a
monument to decadence a monument to disgrace. They knoe that eye am
homeless eye still walk the street without a place. The blankets in the dump
seem so nice when eye am cold. Foolishness or wisdom tell me preacher what
would you do when the sky was falling would you stick your turkey neck up to the
rain and then just drown or would you find a church with a poor doorway to get
dry. The path is narrow the climb is steep and harrow the preacher fast asleep.
Eye cry a homeless to the end of time.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
William L. Moore
Let go of all the strife
Just snuff out my life
Make a strong fist
And Slit my Wrist
Make me cry
Hope to die
Call to get help
Only to Yelp
I can not stall
Just end it all
Would anyone care?
If only I dare
Would someone come by?
To check, to say goodbye
No one would crave
The stink that would Rave
This was written when the whole world was falling down around me. When life was not
important any more.
Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011
THE UGLY TRUTH GETS UGLIER
You think flattery and bull-dung will get you everywhere. But when the worm turns, they flatter you and dangle carrots... and on your crawl back home, coughing and snotting all over the place. You will remember that old sofa or... the few who were really with you in your time of need; Those who gave you a warm blanket...and maybe some tea.
One day you'll remember when no one was there but Mamma or a best friend. The old blanket and a cup of tea, they sat with you every night and nursed you on that old sofa till well—They told you of those faults, that you could not see. You could not see your faults with eyes filled with deceit, now with eyes no longer scheming.
You may one day see the light. You may even say " I love you"...and tell yourself that you were wrong". You may even find a soul inside that empty temple. If sorry is so hard to say, because all you think of is yourself. You’ll keep feeling, it is right to spew untruths and continue thinking simple.
You may say “what’s done is done” Speaking loud, and last, and long; Speaking loud and long does not make you right! …
You’ll just go on and on, never admitting that you were wrong. "Oh" The more you repeat the lie; The more it becomes your truth...It does become your truth…Now it is your gospel song. Then someone will tell you, what your sick soul wants to hear, then once again you'll waddle in pain, never understanding “That flattery and bull-crap are the same” just that;
Making righteous, virtues most impossible.
Love will check bull-crap at the door every-time it crosses truth's threshold. Friends are standing alongside, looking sad, please check all evil thoughts before you lose the best friends you’ve had. Love is waiting for you to change…” nothing ventured nothing gained”.
So come on in, leave dissension outside the door- if you do not like it here, we will be happy to refund to you, your "misery''...as you exit the store.
No questions asked, as long as you stay in your own lane... “Oh well no crash” The Ugly Truth gets uglier….
So If you need to be dazzled with bull-crap and flattered with lies. Try truth for a change. Because people who love you, can see right through the plastic disguise. You will be, the biggest fool, and not very clever; Too big to say, “sorry I was wrong”- So the "Ugly Truth gets more sour, with every passing hour. The pain of truth will soon subside, but lies torment forever
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2016
They took a cart with four wheels scootered by me just to almost hit my foot they
tried to run between the bus stop and the bench where eye was standing waiting
for the bus just missing one that left me almost got the dust she flipped at me
with her middle finger she had to knoe that eye was there she meant to make me
feel bad so what she said he was not there at the stop yet this old man found
and scrounge is better than a gang and take this poem is for FOUND things
sarcasm is lost inside a deep dark hole I don’t want to take it with me overheard
and listened to the conversation all anew again in my imprinted memory as I
pen, this; ODE to rudeness, eye have been told there is NO LAW against cell
phones or decent public conversations Its hard to see he is my poor brother eye
keep my own needs simple and eye travel light,
And keep all of Egypt on my back, but some people need the even more security
a four wheeled
Shopping –cart can afford them the demonic teachings of the classroom just
made me realize that eye would leave my education in the great wastebasket of
the sky eye would learn some other thing eye would leave the classroom without
thinking never embracing death and the mark of the rejection of the lord the
millennium mark the 666 mark of the beast called SATAN.
Rood rud - Show Spelled Pronunciation [rood] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA
1. a crucifix, esp. a large one at the entrance to the choir or chancel of a
medieval church, often supported on a rood beam or rood screen.
2. a cross as used in crucifixion.
3. a unit of length varying locally from 51/2 to 8 yards (5 to 7 m).
4. a unit of land measure equal to 40 square rods or 1/4 acre (0.10117
5. a unit of 1 square rod (25.29 sq. m).
6. Archaic. the cross on which Christ died.
[Origin: bef. 900; ME; OE rōd pole, crucifix; c. G Rute rod, twig ]
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
Dear Recipient: You have won the lottery.
Please add this address to your address book immediately so that we have our
fishhookers in you from the start. This is VIP BENDSMORE from the obscure
village of Pretendmore in East South Africa; we have upwards of ThirtyThree
Millions Gold Bullions Cubes taken from the diamond mines of Kenya. Can you
send us all your unknown information so we can fleece your pockets with our
real inventions avarice and greed; we aim our guns to please. Send us nammes
we need addresses we want numbers dates of birth and places we need to
knoe the namme of all the ancestors so we can dig them up and do it to them
also we need money in the form of PayPal send it to us by the score. You are
also the one billionth customer we have a bonus a real raw diamond taken from
the belly of the statue of the Qyeen of Sheba standing in front of the only Pyramid
left in South Africa the Temple of Dome. We will send you the diamond when
southern places freezes over Rodger and outside the ball one a swing and a
miss the Swiss have many freebank accounts we want several more. To verify
the account we will need the account number. Make the money in various
denominations marked in small bills at least less than the Hundred Dollars so
prone to counterfeit. So ewe want to be a writer it is not easy ewe to consistently
come up with new ideas day after day document after document and make it
pleasing to the eye and to the public view. Remit the African Qyeen list the
holdings in your vault one by naked one send the stain sealed cartons with the
nammes of all deceased upon them make the Africa River falter in its flow with
barges laden with the heaps of dough. Remit mee send it rather quickly the need
is efferpheasant rapid transit in my Africa Jungle is the local version of the snail
the backs of Natives's heavy laden with the burdens of the way upon the lithe
black ebon forms they sway in rhythms like a long slick serpent moving in a row.
Please add Seventy five cents for deposit. We found a founder he will send us all
the more he is the President of Baltimore the Oriel. Ewe remember him the long
tall one with the largesse straw hat the one who did the 7 Up commercial oh did
eye say HAT no his head was shiny bald. Try saying that one quickly in the cold.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
The touches, tears and cries for help, a child living in fear.
Being told never to tell a soul, to ashamed to look in the mirror.
Not being able to trust anyone, because of being betrayed.
Now haunted by what has been done, praying the memories will fade.
Surrounded by many shattered dreams and all hope taken away.
Drowning in fear of being violated again, their eyes plead the words they can not say.
The memories will always stay with a child buried deep into the mind.
A permanent barrier now built within, keeping anything from getting inside.
Copyright © Priscilla Larson | Year Posted 2011
The Bad, Bad Boy
My Dear, sweet China Flower :
The Oriental fragrance of you lingers on, it has permeated the very fibers of my mind and my home.
I am, oh so very sorry for over stepping boundaries, going beyond my place, in your life. I am sorry for letting my passions, my desires become the flames that defiled your beautiful innocence.
I really feel bad for the BAD, BAD thing I did to you and for leaving you unsatisfied. I am also, so very sorry for pollinating - planting my seeds deep within - your beautiful flower,
and for doing so without your desire, your consent as I slipped between your stems and into your dreams .
I do hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive this old fool for - in the heat of moments of desire to taste, to savour the flavour of your liquid honey, honey that felt so good I could not resist - defiling the innocent beauty of your womanhood, in desecrating a beautiful Flower, of China. All to satisfy my own lecherous appetites, appetites that violated the purity and innocence in you, broke the trust, that I believe you placed in the hands of this foolish old stranger.
I am truly sorry for my acts of indiscretion, and even more so for my not
bringing to fruition, the blossoming of your beautiful flower, feeling it, seeing it explode in a brilliance of rainbow colours, that would have lit up the hours of our late night, early morning.
Please do not think to badly of me, my Dear .
LOVE BILL .
As I look into the above, I come to realize that I painted a picture of what must appear, to you the reader, an aggressive, forceful, selfish, inconsiderate,monster who is lurking among the shadows of my rhyme ?, / poetry ?, but let me assure you that that is as far from the truth as is the closest universe .
The above poem ?, / rhyme ?, came on the heels of my lack of understanding, an inability to read the signs and the over active imagination of this author as I was looking into the beauty of the first times I made love to this Beautiful China Flower, in a bright light at night's darkest hour and again in the soft glow of dawn's first sight of passion's delight .
The truth be told, taking poetic license, an active imagination, lack of verbal communication - for there is this language and cultural difference as well as only three months of Canadian culture and the English language under her belt, at the time - told me one story while I neglected to take into account all the none verbal expression that came, and came from this Chinese Flower, as she expressed in the silences of her physical participation a truth and that truth has blossomed many, many times since under the green thumb of this old gardener, so what is the true reality ?, the rhyme ?, / poem ?, this statement ?
In the light of this, the poem ?, /rhyme ?, does not a reality make . A monster ?, a fool ?, a blind man ?, an artist ?, does any of this tell what this author could be under all my words ?
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2012
The decadence of Society, RUDE, has finally sickened me; the only thing to do is
pray to GOD to quicken me when he bumped me and all eye did was make the
references to his ancestory his intentions were just nominal he wanted to survive
and they think that they are GOD the man was nice until eye started to converse
with him it rally hurts there feelings when eye have a less terse verse the Mexican
bumped my bag and actually hit it with his arm in an effort to move it out of his
way HOW ROOD is that he was in my way and no where for me to go the traffic
was thick and the curb was near my foot
then the boy looked super surprised wiping the glaze out of his eyes Oh, he had
surmised it He said this to the Driver “I am not even listening to you I am talking
to someone on my Rude Cell Phone
and he pointed to the window with his cup so carefully held up to keep from
spilling and he gestured at the man to sit somewhere else just go away eye am
so rude eye am the rudest man alive today the man was trying to dominate
someone that will not be ruled over by another man and so he lost his battle plan
his rude was wasted then eye almost let it go but had the last word out the door
One thing was certain they never even noticed me
never saw me as a person they just played out their ruminations
just giving me the benifit of their public conversation the girls talked non plussed
non pulsed and non stopped they never cared for anyone but them they kept the
confab going even into coffee time THAT stuff that you are wanting me to have
just keep it with you and take it with you please just SHUT your mouth like that
and then she left another string of profanity pointed back in my direction and the
damage had been done now here's this poem.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
July 24, 2011
I need to die
And I know why
The pity trip
My soul to rip
I have no life
So full of strife
No one knows
How can they
There is no way
Shall I stay another day
WHY oh Why
I just want to die
But what of Darla
My only friend
What will happen to her
She is the only one who needs and wants me
She is the my freedom
She soothes my soul
And makes me whole
She always knows
When I am down
With the whole world closing around
I need my puppy so
And only she will ever know
Now I must go
To where I do not know
Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011
I feel so hurt
And so much like a jerk
For I have lost my dream
Just let it out and scream
What did I do
Can I ask you
Am I to be alone
All I can do is groan
I ask God will it ever be
Does she really want me
Please Lord let her call
For me to be that is all
I am so stuck in a rut
Do I just give up
Can not hold back the tears
The return of all my fears
I hope to see
That she really needs me
I will never know
For she will have to show
Can you give me my best friend
Or have I lost her again
Tell me did I sin
Should I just give in
I am at my wits end
Knowing not where to begin
I sit here and moan
At me just throw the heavy stone
Please, oh please hit the mark
Then I know it will break my heart
I always feel the use
Finally I remember the abuse
My feelings inside
Will never subside
Why not go ahead and fall
With my life just end it all
Does anyone really care
That would be so rare
For all I feel is lost
And in the end that is the cost
Copyright © William Moore | Year Posted 2011
You have taught me how to live
You have made me feel
Feelings I hid in mind
Are no longer inside
I've finally stood for myself
I've been saying no or yes
you've made me forget all bad
I'm no longer my own treat
But you've also made me wonder
What i want to be and what i am
You have kept me from dark place
And i really thank you for that
After all i know you've made me think
Maybe you don't know but you have made my life complete
Now i know what i was waiting for
Now i know what saved me
I am sure you won't confess, you never did
You're the one, my missing piece
And i'm sorry for missing that out
I needed days without you to realize
That i always knew i'll never leave you
That i always knew i'll always love you
I would never want to spend a day without you from now on
I'm tearing my brain out of how much i miss you
This days i've been destroying myself
But then i finally understood
I've been destroying you and us
So i stopped and i'll never do that again
I don't want to hurt you
But i already did, i'm really sorry
I have lived with you for months and i'll never leave
I don't care if we change places
Cause my home will always be beside you.
For my best friend and best person i've ever met
I love you Alezander!
Copyright © Lana Judnic | Year Posted 2015
the sorrowful feeling of rejection
slumbering in the heart like a deep infection
i wish i could make it go away
but i beleive its here to stay
i wish i could make it dissapear
but its always just right here
i wish i could remember how to love
but after all have i ever really loved?
Copyright © Rowien McCallister | Year Posted 2009
No one does it better than I.
Be they outgoing or a touch shy.
And to sit and think about it now,
And I tend to really wonder how
I got in the business of stealing hearts.
Whispers of a life draw them in.
Sweet smiles and laughter keep them pinned.
And in an instant, I think we could be.
And then I remember we're dealing with me.
Trapping souls forever is a tricky art.
I've never set out to hurt a soul,
But when I leave, they're never whole.
And I sulk for two or three.
And then I move, 'cause I'm me.
In the end, I break them apart.
Falling in love is never my plan.
But then again, such a dashing man.
And I guess I have a charming way.
And I guess I make them want to stay.
Is there ever an end to what I start?
I've never asked for all these hearts.
I was searching for the missing parts.
And then I wake up one day and see.
And then realize it's not meant to be.
When composing love, I'm your Mozart.
I'll come into your life, and make you fall.
I'll take your heart, I'll take it all.
Copyright © Erika Raiken | Year Posted 2012
It's now sin sorry Sunday, don't look so swell, take a look in the mirror, look like he'll, start thinking I'm tired of living this way I'm steadily getting older each and every day. I go out every night looking for a good time, the more I look the less I find, instead of getting ahead I'm falling further behind, It's time to break out, go a new route. So tired of living in dismay, you look to the Heavens, a start to pray.
Lord I go out with my friend's and keep finding myself deeper into sin. I'm just trying to be like everybody else, somewhere I have lost myself. Lord I know this is not me, after years of working and searching I'm still not in the place I want to be. Before I leave I put on a false face because I know I'm about to enter the retrace. I'm starting to feel it's all a waste. Lord Jesus will you take my case. When you party, drinking good liquor and good wine, you know it has come to an end, when you have to pretend to have a good time.
It has become a very bitter cup, I think it's time to put it down and go up. Lord I'm ready to make that Heavenly connection so you can guide me in the right direction. And how do I know the format, been there, done that. I thought the only way to cope was hanging with the crowd, drinking lots of liquor, doing big dope. It brought me to the end of my rope. Now I didn't hear a voice, just a strong feeling, you have a choice. But the part I really resent, it took a mile to kick me before I got the hint.
Then I was told, the next hit or drink could take your last breath. I looked in the mirror, could see the face of death. But know this before you commence, you cannot straddle the fence. It's either up or down, swim or frown. It's not a riddle, it's simple, there is no middle. So while sitting at the crib, I cried, forget death, Lord I want to live. Then came the voice. Very Wise Choice
He took the sorrow away, no more sin sorry Sunday.
Copyright © Milton Robertson | Year Posted 2016
I destroyed the love of my life, I lied white lies because I knew we both came from
two different world's but I soon became distrustful with my lies and denied real love infront of my eye's.
I lied when I said don't touch me, I lied when I called you ugly; ( i apologise )
If I could turn back the hand's of time, we both would have never lied and you would forever be mine.
- J D.
Poet's note: Please follow my instagram for more poetry @Jourdans_bookofpoems
Copyright © Jourdan Dunka | Year Posted 2015
SAVED CONVERTED INVERTED CRUCIFIED DEAD BUT NOT YET BURIED
Kiss the ewe she never cries she never sighs she stays happy all the times we
try. The eye was stopped by a patrolman in the middle of my walk to the church to
lay my layman down to rest a night a bite of something not so sweet in bag to
help me live. He said ADDRESS what is your ADDRESS like it's the most
important thing to have NO eye said NO eye do not have a TUCSON address just
one in Flagstaff. HOMELESS he said. NO eye said eye have the ADDRESS in
FLAGSTAFF the one on my ID card. NO he said you are just HOMELESS in
TUCSON. He noticed that eye cared nothing for any of that. WHY did yew not say
that to begin WITH he said to me and eye just tried to ignore a man who has the
world to shrug upon his Atlast Shoulders? PHONE he said ??? No phone what's
your cell phone???
EEYE do not have a PHONE NO CELL PHONE eye almost cried.
NO NUMBER NO PLACE IN THIS WORLD TO CALL MY HOME.
The Indian has no feather he is saved now he is in Heaven beside the MEE. Live
in life wrap the world outside live the life of love and learn to live and love. Eat a
LOT of CHARLAX eat a lot of poems eat a lot of Fabels now.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
When judgement come what will you say can you tell the JESUS
what you done in just one day eye left some fish upon the way then left my bed to
gather more than eye can eat for eye am blessed my heart is full of love for
people eye have never met and strangers yell at me from van and make me cuss
and curse and hate yet the things eye found was blessed a cake a homemade
cake remember LORD when we ate the cake eye found it in the city park on that
SUNDAY when the man in the van rolled his window down he yelled screamed
growled at me so cartoon of a character so rubber legged he would not stop near
me for eye was mad at THEE for letting evil men get near me they rob me of my
grace more needed now on SUNDAY as eye sit and feed my face eye will not go
further with embellishments and lies intended just to sell a story to the men who
drive the van and bother men with hate for eye found some extra clothing and
added it to mind for there was no one there in the park today just laying on the
ground eye passed the beggars sides with full larder laid as eye did not even lay
it down eye hope they have an empty cup of alcoholic stop eye began this day
without a fish but now my bags is hard to carry a brand new hooded shirt upon
my belly my jacket getting heavy my cake and coffee is so nice please KISS mye
lambea wherever she is at a smile upon her face for eye and love and grace on
SUNDAY. This is CharlaXFabel number NINTEY.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
He was steering us somewhere
This Fouad Abbas
Having given up the world as unreachable
Now took hold the yellow disc
and wrested what was left
into some sort of plan.
Copyright © Romaine Truax | Year Posted 2012
All dimensions are hidden from me;
I fail to envision the mystic beauties of nature,
My world is packed with dense fog all around me.
I was born to see a never-ending darkness,
A darkness so profound that it conceals everything from me.
For 40 years now my vision has betrayed me and ,
I continue to walk along a dark tunnel hoping to see light at
the end of it someday.
I have not seen my mother’s face. I know not how the lady
who gave me my existence looks.
But the immense shadow that covers me also raises my
consciousness to the highest level.
I know that
“ Within me I have an enlightened soul that radiates light
more influencial than the sun and it traverses the whole
of universe to reach the heavens.
At this moment I feel the prescence of God.
A God that pervades my entire existence.
I can feel that He uncondiotionally loves me.
It is now that I see the Light of Truth.”
Ronak Sanjay Bhavana Muchhala
G-601, Satellite Gardens CHS,
Film city road, Goregaon [east],
Mumbai 400063. INDIA
Copyright © Ronak Muchhala | Year Posted 2008
A Homeless person is nothing but a distracting sideshow on the sidewalk to
most people they can not help them ease the misery of the alcoholism or even
feed them and yet iff ewe ask them are all of you a Christian they would ring
choruses of resounding yeses in choral verses posted on the internet in three
part harmonic glee club performances. Eye have seen some bad men posing as
people. A man walking to the mission once his duffle causing him to shuffle eye
asked him to let me help him and this is what he told me. He was very angry and
he was posing as a human. This will now become his story.
Eye am an American Christian, eye do not need the help you have offered just
leave my fate to me eye suffer an old war injury the knee cap it is plastic not
meant to be abused but eye can carry twice as much as you. Even with my bad
leg eye can get where eye am going if this bothers you then hide and watch my
passing. He had to be hiding something and this is later to be revealed. The offer
of help was the Christian in me just reaching out to someone less fortunate and
needy. The thorns in the people you meet can make the fellowship falter and
miss and make a man wonder at this life time to come. Now when we had gotten
where we were going and he had made me belittled all the way the real long day
was over and he still would not shut up so hear what he now had to say. He said
you be quiet in that bed or eye will shoot you full of lead and that is when he
pulled a pistol from his bag and that must be why he has so much trouble with
the weight it must have weighed a ton there is not another feeling in this world
my dear and gentle reader as laying in a MISSION bed just waiting for the sound
of that dropped hammer on the gun he must be the American Christian.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008