In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden
His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh
His frame broken down by the years now passed by
The end of the final chapter, his book has grown old
Soon in a faith filled church, his past tales will be told
He’s a person, loved, surrounded by his living history
His family hold one another, parts of his closing story
Go quietly now love, for the time has come to move on
Hush now, your wearied tiredness, is oh so nearly gone
Soon the warmth of living will become so stiff and cold
Leaving this earth’s dusty soil, so as to join an eternal fold
He enters deaths doorway that will close quickly behind
A peace beyond imagination, a kind welcome he will find
Tears flow, fond goodbyes are spoken a kiss of farewell
Do not mourn too long have faith, know he is now well.
Patrick Brennan © 2010
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
I am whatever you say I am...
but, let's get back to reality...
Three short years ago, this room shined welcome mats across a screen of doldrums.
A place of unfamiliarity that screamed,
"You don't belong!"
Yet, a voice of reason spoke and said,
"Expand yir' roots. Venture beyond the comfort zone. Academia resides inside that room, but know you won't be alone."
Repeatedly,brainwaves declined what my wife and editor had told me.
"no way, I'm givin' up my soul for free, they read, they pay, like it's always been, the way it's going to always be!"
Unbeknownst to me one day, and with a slight of hand, my "Open Sores" were put on display and surprisingly more than a handful of great ladies and nice guys began to give feedback on what I had devised.
This interaction was something very new, helpful, and impressive. For a change, it was something real.
For years, those around me were quick to give praise with hidden reasons. Constructive criticism is amazing, and I welcomed being corrected or set straight.
Now there are those who choose to shut me down without explanation, and call me names.
DO NOT mistake me for sophomoric! These words bleeding from my guts have no style and need no approval. There is no thinking involved here, no plan. If you don't like it, fine...don't censor or bracket me in. So what if I am illiterate? If you don't like "street poetry" or the pathetic stuff I write, don't read it. If I offend you, tell me.
We should welcome those who are different than us.
Words of truth inspire movement, like fire.
I came to this room to expand my horizons, step outside the box, learn, help, grow.
There will be no apologies dealt for being different, or for being labelled as something uncomfortable to you.
This has been an ok room so far, but there is some clique trickanery going on.
If the dictionary must come into play, let me recommend looking up the term "Poetic License."
True, I may not be the writer you prefer, or aspire to be....but tread carefully my friend, for you have no idea of my profession. I've made a fine living, for a good long time, spewing words onto paper. I came from nothing, and may still be nothing to you...still, I do what I love, have no boss.
I am not an aspiring writer who dreams of a life, I live my dream. In conclusion, I must wish you luck in finding what you peddle poetry for. Until then, keep
Looking dead at me in this smeared mirror...
a lost man
the longer I stare
this stress abuses
my conscience with a glare
a guilty reflection warns
my mind is the prison I fear
as I long to escape
from the hell I dwell in
who have I become?
what have I done right?
crossroads appear suddenly
as fog fills the mirror tonight
darkness owning the room,
prefers I suffer slow
so I proceed with speed
because it’s the only way I know
flood my life’s hard bound chapters
while this smeared mirror reflects tears
dripping from a face
which was once filled with laughter.
Silence can deceive
One's quiet to understand
Another to destroy
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
To be cast into the abyss
With-out so much
As a Spirit attached
Is an Obituary
*When you are cast into the abyss, with-out a Spirit OR Soul being attached,
That mean's that you are already dead! The next step called for is to "the Obituary".
******* Follow me on facebook@mediancircle131********
Have You Been Hurt By “Religion”?
Are you tired of “religious people”
knocking at your door?
You wish they’d leave... “You can’t take it anymore!”
Have you been hurt by “church people” sometime in the past?
Somehow they hurt you... And the pain continues to last…
Have you been “wounded” by something
somebody has said?
Perhaps you wonder if “they wish you were dead…”
Perhaps there’s someone that you
may have “befriended…”
They have done something that
has hurt you and “offended.”
There’s probably many people that you wish would “go away.”
Because of something they’ve
done to “darken your day.”
I’ve been there many times… Believe me I know.
How someone’s actions or words can hurt your soul.
Even those who go to church are
often not very kind.
And they don’t hesitate to
give you “a piece of their mind.”
Religion is not the answer. Look to Jesus
and the life he gives!
He alone has the power to love
and completely forgive!
It’s only in his shed blood that you can find atonement.
He can change your life now! This very moment!
He can heal your broken heart and wounded spirit.
An everlasting joy and love... He freely gives it!
He can do what no “church” or “religion” could ever do
He can restore your life today.
And make you BRAND NEW!!!
By Jim Pemberton