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Sad Women Poems | Sad Poems About Women

These Sad Women poems are examples of Sad poems about Women. These are the best examples of Sad Women poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain | |

A Soul Cries

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
They say he has neither a head nor limbs
But he has a soul and a spirit
Undesirable is the soul to be taken from the womb

A soul cries yet nobody hears him
His voice is so mild that no one can hear him
He’s damned for a crime he didn’t commit 
No supplication and inspiration to share

A soul still cries yet nobody hears him
He has neither words nor songs to hymn
He’s languishing from a lashing whip 
A victim to hatred, dubiety and immorality 

A soul cries yet nobody seems to care
He pleas for his precious life to be spared
Yet with a mild voice no one will give an ear
 With despair he cries and screams into the night

A soul cries yet this girl has turned a deaf ear
A voice tells her “eliminate him from here” 
But a master fate will sometimes have it to be
The Dame escorted him six feet underground

The Poet Preacher © 2014


Details | Verse | |

Secretly Obsessed

Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head

Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much

I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I 
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care

I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that 
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos 
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust 
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....






Details | Free verse | |

The Hands of Pain

My soul pounds with rage.
This heart has been scorched,
by your burning words.

My soul gasps for light 
slowly suffocated,
By your hands of pain.

I bare the mark of shame.
Your touch has maimed my body.
My mind drowned out my screams.

Blow by blow,
Shamed so low.
Never did you know how,
Your hands of pain marked me.


Details | Rhyme | |

Let Him Go

This poem I wrote. I call it " Let Him Go "

Sweetheart don't cry
Don't let him make you feel like your nothing
You do have family even though we are not close by
I know your heart is crushing
Don't harp on the past
Don't let him play with your head
You need to get over him fast
His feelings for you are dead
Over 2 years and you still don't have a ring
Your not the one he calls his wifey to be no more
Take a seat and listen up girl here is the thing
He's playing with your feelings and using you like a two dollar whore
I know you were smart once and can be again
He has you so brain washed it's not funny
I know hearing all this is a strain
Think of the example your setting for you little ones honey
Hold your head high and walk away from that loser mama's boy 
Show him that your the one that is too good for his sorry ass
Hell he's such a mama's boy you can find better pleasure in a toy
Your related to me so come on show your sass 
Let go of the past and look to a new future
Let go of the pain and the control freak
Say bye bye Looser
It will get easier one step at a time week by week......


Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)






Details | Ballad | |

Antigone

I am the face of misery
My life, a dissonance of autumn and spring,
The years are written in the same
Lugubrious, nostalgic grey
How can it be the author to blame?
I cannot scream this all away…
Burn nor Bleed this all away…
To Death I am Ordained

Lacuna ever growing
With Velvet sheets of life flowing
Aeons apart of my "royalty"
Under the mask the cannot see...
Can you dispel this tragedy:
Antigone - Epiphany failing

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

No words of hope
No words of hate
Do I have Lenore to send to me:
The sordid child of Thebes
Caught In the longest nightmare
life - the slowest way to die

I know this is my life 
But I'm not under control
under the mask the will see
Just Another Human

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

If it must be…
Then just kill me,
(Antigone) sing me out of reality;
I wear this dissonant crown of shame
(Antigone) Of a kingdom's disdain
I hate to be this way... normalcy's bane
(Antigone) Here comes the edict, to blame
The sordid child of Thebes,
This is me,
Antigone

Can you dispel my life; this tragedy?
Can you control the storm in my mind?
I'm asking you: can you rid me
Of The Curse of Antigone?


Details | I do not know? | |

JUST SO YOU ALL KNOW

Just one more slam before I leave this be
All you women who thinks he is so great
You are welcomed to the cheat
You are welcome to the thief
You are welcome to the user
You are welcome to the financial abuser 
You are welcomed to the man of many words
The man who used me for my money and opportunities 
The man who used countless women for what he can get out of them
God used me to take him from the US 
So he couldn't rob another woman there
Yes this story seems surreal but it is TRUE 
He who feels it knows it
I wish I could warn every woman before it is too late
I did have an encounter with the man
The man who latched on to a fictional character on the Soup
Thinking it was a wealthy widow he would be able to rob 

Yes he has words but not just for poetry
He has a degree in being a con artist 
There I’m done with it!!!! 
Just so you all know



Details | Lyric | |

Garden Rose

Written August 21, 2013


There's a girl in the garden
She's messing with your rose bed
Plucking weeds out from your head
And watering the seeds in your bed

But where will she wander
When the roses are dead
Will she come back for more
When they turn back to red

She can run all alone
Write this story in stone
On concrete slabs
Of skin and bone


Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Prose Poetry | |

Controlling Men: Physically, Mentally, and Verbally Abusive Men

All men (the loser boyfriends/husbands) think that it's their right to be physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward their female companions (girlfriends/wives), well they're wrong. Most guys are always beating their girlfriends/wives up every single day just because they didn't make their men dinner, do chores around the house, or whatever. It seems that these womanizing losers are way better than their women. Actually, they're not; they're idiots. Controlling these women and being physically, mentally, and verbally abusive toward them don't make these Neanderthals men; they're like childish cowards. All guys think that they're the only breadwinners in their families and the women aren't. But guess what--they're not; some of them don't have jobs. And does anyone knows what gets on my nerves? Men always cheating on their girlfriends/wives with other women, getting them pregnant, and not taking care of the children they already have. And those controlling, abusive men, they're always telling their female spouses/lovers what to do, what to eat, where to look, and who to talk to. I mean, who are these womanizing losers to judge other men and to boss these women around? I mean, who does that? Everybody doesn't even know why they'd bother spending the rest of their lives with those abusive idiots. This whole saying by these controlling abusive men have been getting on everybody's nerves and my nerves, as well: "You're-not-to-speak-unless-spoken-to," this "You're-not-to-talk-to-your-family" ordeal, this whole "You're-not-to-have-guy-friends," and this whole "You need me! You're nothing without me! You have no money! You have no friends! Everything's in my name: the house, the cars, clothes, everything I own! You're useless! You're worthless! I own you for life! And you will respect me!" Where I come from, the rest of us nicer guys, we treat our women with the respect they rightfully deserve. The last time I checked, the mothers have raised their sons to treat women and other people with respect, but they now know where they've gone wrong with those womanizing clowns. My suggestion for the women is for them to leave their abusive husbands/boyfriends before it's too late because if they don't, they'll end up in the hospital or the morgue. To be honest, these women, they never should've met, let alone dated or married those abusive men to begin with. And if these abusive men think that they can control those women forever, they've got another coming.


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Lyric | |

Welcome to the Planet

Welcome to the planet
Wake me when it’s over
The dreamer’s always tempted
To come around and show her

And I just keep wastin my time
On girls that won’t love, me, like their wine
And it’s just too easy to blame
The rock and the system for causing my pain
And I just want you to know that I’m through
With being alone, when I’m with you 
And when you mask the truth with your lies
It just won’t get any better for the rest of your guys

And when you fall asleep
The night covers your tears
And the darkness sees you weeping
Cause your conscious can’t be cleared
This year you’re feeling colder
Your heart’s a little older
You haven’t found your soul mate
And now you think you’re too late

But one look inside of my eyes
Gives you the hope that there’s a guy
Who can make you feel happy and sad
And it’ll be worth it to feel that again


Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.


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!


Details | Romanticism | |

Can't Love be with me for once

Can't Love be with me for once

in my life.

Can't Love for once in my life

see the way I live

and accept me for who I am

and not for what I possess.

I have seen love bounce back and forth

through the darkened streets of life

and I sat on the park benches,

alone.

I can't wait till love comes again

but can't love just be with me for once

and live with me, embrace me, to see me late at night,

come through the doors of perception.

Can't Love be with me for once

throughout the valleys of sorrow and depression

and shine its glorious face onto me,

like the first morning rays of the sun at dawn.

I cannot understand, why

Love can't just be with me for once...

Why?

I ask you, why?

Can't Love just laugh, and talk to me

Can't the arrow of Cupid find me already.

I have found my time, now I have no love.

The beauty of Plato's words that melt of the page

as you read word for word, and my heart melts away.

Why can't love just be with me for once,

once in a great, blue moon.

Too walk through the dew sprinkled, dawn days in August

as I walk to my chamber

and ready to love,

but love can't be found.

Can't love just come already.

Show its pretty face,

Hold my hand,

kiss me and I kiss back,

to read a book of poetry to her

as she lays in my arms,

and then we shall make love

under the twilight.

The stars shall shine

the moon shall be bright and full

and I shall find love one day.

One lonely day, as I sit in the wayward cafe

drinking my sorrows away,

writing my poetry

and love shall walk through that door

I shall find her and take her by the hand

and kiss her upon her soft cheek.

I just ask,

Why can't love just be with me for once.


Details | Rhyme | |

Paper Thin

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

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

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


Details | Free verse | |

When a Man cries Himself to Sleep

When a man cries himself to sleep,
it is a sad sight to see,
tears roll off his cheek
and onto his bed sheets and pillow case.
When you hear his somber cries,
you can feel his pain
when he wimpers like a child who treds in fear.
No one knows what they do to a man
when they play with his emotions,
lead him on,
take advantage of him.
They don't know what they do to an innocent man
looking for love.
They break his heart that is full of love,
they stab him in the back
when he needs them at his most vulnerable moment
they laugh at him, and tease him,
Do they know what they do to a man?
They slowly kill a man, who just wants a simple kiss on the lips,
they kill a dreamer, a good man, with a big heart.
They drive a man to his bed,
with tears running down his face
and force him to dream of nightmares.
When a man cries himself to sleep, 
it is that saddest thing to see.
Goodnight and sweet dreams...


Details | Free verse | |

Between soul and body

Why you seem sad?
How is for this moon to sadden?
Why pearls pour down from your eyes?
As the raindrops
What is the secret?
What is the matter?
What is the avail of sadness?
And we are hanging in ropes of the sin
And between rope and gallows
An orphan friendship
And between me and you
A new world
Between my eyelash and tears
Painful memories
My lady!
Between city and city
Long distances
Thousand barriers
Thousand souls immigrating
Thousand temples
Thousand priests
Thousand knights
Thousand nights
Thousand devils
And between heart and heart
Farness and yearning
Thousand mercies
Thousand pulses
Thousand love
Thousand addresses
Thousand words
Thousand lies
Thousand candles
And between eye and eye
Hidden Language and dialogues
Thousand tears
Thousand roses
Thousand tones
Thousand winks
Thousand whispers
Thousand touches
Thousand kisses
But between soul and body
One life.............One life.....


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Ex-Boyfriends and Ex-Girlfriends

Since the men and the women are no longer dating, I guess the relationship is over. All types of break-ups have affected the lives of all would-be ex-lovers since ever. It seems that when the guys and the girls decide to break up, their hearts will have been broken into pieces. And after this bad break up, these people are really depressed, which means that they can’t eat, they can’t sleep, they lose interest in life, and stuff. And what is so sad about the men and the women being ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is that they’re making fun of each other for no apparent reason or whatever. Why, this is starting to look like the battle of the sexes and World War 2 or 3. I’m told that all serious relationships will have ended in multiple break-ups, especially when a man and/or a woman will have found out that his/her boyfriend/girlfriend has cheated on him/her with another suitor or his/her own family members (male or female cousin, e.g.). On top of all that, it makes everybody sick just thinking about it. Not only have these people (the guys and the gals) have broken each others’ hearts, they’ve humiliated and embarrassed each other publicly and personally. And if these people knew that they we’re going to cheat on each other, then they shouldn’t have been together at all. Looks like the guys and the girls are better off without each other and alone anyway. So now I know why I’m not in a relationship with someone right now. And I have no time to think about getting into a serious relationship with one female. And if all types of break-ups continue to affect the lives of all men and women, there’s no stopping it. Something must be done this instant.


Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/


Details | Verse | |

I blame me

I blame me for all my mistakes
I blame me for all the rejection and heartache
I blame me for all the times I stayed silent 
and should have started and earthquake
with my words
I should have spoken up when I had the chance
now all those thoughts are wasted
unspoken, unheard

I blame me when my husband touches me 
and I feel the hands of a predators pounce
And I blame me when the pressure it on
because all I had to do was shout out and renounce His name
Lord, help me to get rid of the shame

I blame me for my loneliness
I blame me for my feelings of lust
I blame me when I look at myself and see absolute disgust
I blame me when I shut down - unsure of who to trust
At times not even sure if I really know how to love

I blame me when my kids are crying out sick
because when I brought them here
I knew that this world was unfit
Yet overpowered by my love for them 
I became more and more protective
So I blame myself in advance for their sadness
when they finally see that the world is not objective

I blame me for those nights I can't rest
Wondering if my consciousness has finally realized
that I have done my best
to stay positive and have good intentions
So I blame myself when I give in to temptations and my human inhibitions
and begin to feel ashamed of myself
I begin to feel like I don't have enough strength to love myself
because
good things don't happen for me
So I blame me for my thinking and feelings of worthlessness

It's a big world and my lonely soul has no more confidence
I have nothing
I have given up 
and so I blame me for my incompetence and my soul's rut


Details | Epigram | |

A STRANGE BEDFELLOW

Woman Is Insulted,
By Challenging His Manhood;
Getting His Buddies To Rape,
Was His Way Of Reinforcing.

He, Not a Man,
Force Himself On a Feminist.
Give a Valid Reason While Rape.
Feminist Tempt Masculine

By Their Proactive Dressing.
Insubordination To Human Nature.
Could It Be That
Masculine Is Weak?

By The Sight Of Bear Breast?
Victims Feel Ashamed And Unclean.
FEMA Seventeen Events Took Place.
Recurring In Nightmare First Man Exploded Inside Her.

It Was Her First Encounter.
Screaming She Was,
Thought Masculine Was Urinating On Her.
Bath I Must Have Said For Years.

Dirty She Felt And Wasn’t Enough Water To Cleanse Her Body.
Rapist Defilement And Innocence Body.
Fellow, Who Should Be Ashamed?
And Feel Unclean And Unfit For Civilized Society?


Details | Free verse | |

Scars of an Inner Child

You are not the man, you want to be
You said you were my Father, till, I discovered different
Enduring, daily beatings
Bashing the living day lights, out of a woman and a child
Repetitive, bad ass attitude, nasty streak
Mean and aggressive!
Fists, knives and guns, your weapons of chose
Out of control, abusive, devious
Relentless, over – bearing!
Breaking me, piece by piece
Confusing a child, with unhealthy love
Hand fed your bullshit, brain washed
Using me as your human, punching bag
This innocent child’s blood, staining your callas hands
My child’s curiosity, asking you one day
“Why do you hurt me and Mum?”
Your retort: “I am not your blood!”
I didn't understand, back then
Now, as an adult, I clearly understand!
Believe me, when I say
There was never a day that went past
That you didn't remind me of that!
My freedom, restrained
My sanity, tested
Caged, like a wild bird in captivity
Behind bars, looking out
 Here, I am today, free from your grip
Nursing, this inner child’s, bleeding love


Details | Free verse | |

Vertical Lines

Don't forget to cross the Ts
and dot your Is
because if you don't do that
they're just lines vertical on a page.
Lets us forget about the imperfect words
that make us cry
the vertical lines,
like jail bars hold us back.
Stand up and out and roar like a lion!

she is mine, I love her,
but I am quiet,
held back by the vertical lines
the black oily jail bars,
that keep my hear caged in
everytime I cry and people don't listen
the guard taps his nightstick upon
the vertical bars,
the imperfect feelings of pain and sadness
feeling like this it bores me 
feeling like this makes me sick
and I feel myself wanting to vomit
and shake the nervous feeling
of falling into a dark hole,
so I sit behind these vertical lines,
like cocaine lines, ready to snort up your nose,
like cigarettes lined in a perfect and neat row,
like empty wine and beer bottles
littering around my feet.

The vertical lines take me away from reality,
close my already blinded eyes
with a black blindfold.
These jail bars cross my soul,
chain my the ankles and wrists,
and choking me, holding my head under water,
I can't breath!!! Help me!
These vertical bars hold me back in life,
hold my emotions from coming out,
to tell you how I feel for you!
I no more want vertical lines,
I want to be free.
Drive horizontal roads that wined and turn around beautiful mountains
too take a deep breathe and share the beauty
to watch the horizontal horizon.
Too sit on a beach shore and write till the sun goes down
and the mermaids sings cheerful tunes
that uplift my spirits and break the remaining vertical lines
that bind and hold my heart in place.

There is nothing beautiful in a straight line,
let alone a vertical one.
Horizontal, vertical all bad in their own ways,
always trapping us, like jail bars or barbwire that streches across the open lands.
Love has no lines,
no boundaries,
so why should I have lines that bind me together
holding my head underwater,
till a spark lights a powder keg and blows me sky high
and I finally set myself free
and roam the horizon for ever.


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Free verse | |

Songs of Sorrowed Hearts

What makes this world go around?
What makes Death walk the Earth
and God sit on his throne and watch over us?
What makes love go around with such favour
and strut along side lonesome avenues?
What does a widow, a motherless child, a Vietnam veteran
and a boy who has had his fare share of heartbreaks,
all have in common with each other?

They were all promised a beautiful life,
free for all to love, free from the pain of betrayal
and anger.
We are what make the world go around,
I am the poet who sits and looks at love walk down the street,
and watch the blind eyes stare deep in my soul.
I am the poet, that feels the pain of a heart torn in two.
He his the poet who writes of smiles, to forget the frowns
and tears.
She is the poetress that writes of her success,
in order to forget her past that tortured her soul,
now he and she walk together writing poetry
sharing their love and smiles with the world.
But with smiles, also comes frowns,
with hearts full of love, comes hearts full of sorrow,
and someone has to stay behind and write of the bad
has to write and compose the songs of the sorrowed hearts.

We are all given love,
but it takes some whole lives to understand
the dark mystery that tags along with beautiful love.
Someone has to suffer the pain,
someone has to sacrifice his or her happiness,
so another poet can feel the beauty in happiness and pain.
I am willing to sacrifice my time and heart,
for my fellow poet to feel the smiles grow on their faces
and feel love uplift their heart,
while the black cancer tears apart mine.
I will go on, with what is left of my heart and smile,
and go into my room of creativity
and compose the songs of sorrowed hearts
for future poets, like that came before me.


Details | I do not know? | |

Tales Of A Computer

My love for you has never swayed
I took my vows I promised it all
I opened my heart I took down the sheild
I was in love head over heel
You loved me to, or so I throught
Then the day came it wasn't me you sought
There were many other women you wanted to feel
You didn't care who they were or what they brought
I was here for you, but you wanted them all
Oh what a tale that computer did tell
While I was hurting and crying
You were typing and playing
For years you had been doing it
My pain to you didn't matter a bit
your cold heart is all I ever got
On other women you wanted your warm body and hands so hot
This was the crummy hand I was dealt
Because you wanted all those notches on your belt
I was here for you, but you wanted them all
Oh what a tale that computer could tell
You were so cruel to me, not a nice word to say
All along you were planning your day
You would be with another, giving her your all
There was no time for me big or small
You typed and played while I had to stand tall
I was here for you, but you wanted it all
Oh what a tale that computer did tell 


Details | Light Poetry | |

Beauty and the Beast

Beauty and the Beast
As her beauty glistens on the outside, her beast brutalizes and demeans her insides.
Belligerent engaged and in war with herself, hostile aggressiveness makes her beast comes out.
She desperately cries out, unable to discipline herself.
Her beast disassociates and separates her from forming any relationships with anyone else.
Her beast slowly takes her dignity and devitalizes her pride.
She is weaken and deprived of life.
She no longer sees her worth; her eyes tell her story of hurt.
Pain as a contributor a well-known donor, love has divorce her.
Forsaken entirely abandon since birth, to be truly loved she thirst.
Unable to see her beauty runs deep, genuinely shows her generosity that emphasizes her sincere honesty.
She garnishes her beastliness while smiling.
As her beast is hiding deeply behind her eyes, her glazy stare intensify her happy appearance as a glassy finish.
As her beast is frantic, her beauty becomes fraudulent.
Her smiles more deceitful her heart grows fragile emotions so gullible.
The meaning of love gravels. 
Beauty and the beast she will forever be, for the love she crave the beast will forever eat.
Leaving her dying a unloved sleeping beauty.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE ANNIHILATION OF UKRAINIANS

THE ANNIHILATION OF UKRAINIANS
Kyrie was struggling to overcome barriers of demarcation. “Holodomor” she was facing. This artificial famine was brutally taking Ukrainians lives. In nineteen hundred and twenty-nine, the manifestation of human hate crimes would be a terrorist regime. The screens Kyrie would experience would became life threatening. “Death by hungry” was in all eyes. Eighty years has passed. Soviet Joseph Stalin’s massacre transpired. From nineteen hundred and thirty-two thru nineteen hundred and thirty-three the Soviet regime took seven million lives. Kyrie and her brother Allah was blessed to survive. The story is her father died early on. Her mother walked far to find food. She would exchange her earnings and a gold pendant she wore on her dress just for a sack of flour and nothing else. She formed the flour into a loaf of bread, which tasted liked grass. Tears forms knowing this was all her and her children had. Wretchedness it is to know that too many peopled did not have anything at all to eat. To genocide was an atrocity. A silent wasteland of God’s people must be exposed. Ukrainians today discloses. _________________________| PENNED ON AUGUST 25, 2014!


Details | Blank verse | |

Pretty Insecurity

Aren’t I pretty too?
Aren’t I pretty to you?
Aren’t I pretty enough for you?


Details | Free verse | |

Protect Me As I Sleep

Nobody 
Knows my real name
‘Angel’ 
Is what I go by
I am freezing cold
I don’t have money
Just, the clothes on my back
I am a walking wardrobe
I am lonely
I smell like crap
I am starving hungry
I can’t find any shelter
My clothes are drenched
I look like a drowned rat!
Violence
Upon women
Is classed normal
Around here!
I wonder...
If
I will survive
Another day?
Only
To wake up
And
Do this
All over, again!
“Protect me tonight
As,I lay my head to rest”
“I love you, dear God”

“Goodnight”


Details | Rhyme | |

keep it in your pants

                
He was getting old- but he wasn’t cold
He still had that fire burning deep within
And the urge to commit that adulteress sin.

A sub conscious thought to prove that he
Was still the man from many years ago
Because on his face it didn’t show.
When comments are made about
How good he looks for his age
That’s when he’ll climb on stage.

The ego is the downfall of every man
And to prove himself, he’ll take a stand.
How foolish can we men be
And it’s shown throughout history.

Men will always fall under a woman s spell
From that point on, he goes to hell.
Cleopatra queen of the Nile- Sampson and Delilah
Helen of troy-just to name a few
Took down these men, and knew exactly what to do.

When it comes to women “ we are weak”
The sexual fulfillment is what we seek.
Once the sexual desire is satisfied
The man will try to say good-bye.
But he’ll be pulled back into that web of sin
And on the women s face- there is a grin.
It started off when Eve ate the forbidden fruit
And convinced Adam to eat it too.
It has gone on till this present day
What else can I say.
Now these celebrities are in the news
It is not something that they would choose.
Men are building their own web
And when the spider comes “ they are dead”.
Ha-ha- ha-   you’ve got to love it!


Details | Rhyme | |

White Saree

       White Saree

You my friend! In White(1) Saree(2) and grim faced
Your dresses were, as always, colorful and laced
What happened to that enchanting, infectious smile?
Where is that enthusiasm, your charming style?

Death is a reality and everyone must die
The living ones mustn’t be left for agony to fry
Humans are not candles that burn through the night
Tell me why widowers are not made to wear White

Why should only women this branding endure
They are also human with a heart and soul for sure
Change this White Saree and in the garbage throw
This is how a system that is archaic must go

          Come to me, my love, let me tell you what is life
Your being mustn’t be embodiment of agony and strife
Give up this white coffin and wear red, scarlet and pink
The fountain of life is gushing out; it is for you to drink

Let us, like our olden days, in horizon of thoughts fly 
Life’s rainbows await you; so do colors of butterfly
Shed your gloom and let the roses of your cheeks blossom
Walk along the valley of life hand in hand with a handsom
                                   ------
(1) In Hindu religion the widowed women are forced to wear only white cotton clothes
(2) Traditional dress of Indian & Bangladeshi women and also some other far eastern countries


Details | I do not know? | |

boungiorno

hello! hey! boungiorno! what is the date?/
this world of dimensions created duality/
no letters/ no words/ are enough to express/
someone like you/ in reality/

i filled all your emptines/ MY still quiet bay/
as Jhon opened world in his Yoko/
you searched perfect princes/ looked for "right him"/
now at only one overman looking/

i swear/ i will hold you/ as much as i can/
would become all the axes/ and outer space/
voice is speared by the screaming wind/
falling down/ flakes to your place/

going crazy just seeing your knees/
don't regret anything/ my Benito/
unbelievable/ perfect/ unbearable/
you whisper/ "la comedia e finita"//


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Finally

 There was a wonderful change in my life today,
A sense of  something good comming my way.
     It's been a long time comming and  it's feeling right ,
I know this because I was able to sleep last nihgt.
     Loving you has always been so easy  for me ,
Holding on to you was  very different you see.
     Finally the clouds and stormy skies have cleared,
We can see it clearly now that it is so near.
     For years we have struggled  with this love we shared,
Only recently have the two of us become so aware.
     Of what we truly feel for each other these days,
Leaving no doubts it was meant to be this way.
     I love her more now then I ever have before ,
To think I was about to walk out that door.
     She loves me I can feel her much closer now ,
The happiness I feel makes me scream aloud.
     Telling everyone I have a wonderful thing,
The love of my Queen who has made me her King.
     We will live our lives making all the memories ,
This love I have for you and  you have for me.
TAC  


Details | Free verse | |

The Wayward Cafe

I sat in a small wayward cafe,
the smell of coffee beans being crushing into submission
tickled at my nosterls.
The sounds of tin cans and cups
some of them being stacked and others
drop with a violent crash.
The tables all red and round
There sat the women, with their novels, tea cups and coffee mugs
sharing small talk of innocent love.
Some women quiet and others talking.
All of them drinking something.

The cool air blew through the windows,
what a mess that wind made.
Blowing papers all around
and blowing the women's hair back.
A man sat there, writing away,
with an endless cough, a tickle at his Adam's Apple.
Then again everyone had a cough.

I sat there reading poetry, writing poetry, embracing poetry
with a pen in one hand and my head in the other,
gently resting of the red round table.
I wrote of the cafe, the women, the man with the endless cough,
that shattered your ear drums everytime he put his hand to his mouth
and coughed away.

A woman who sat reading way,
drinking lemonade and sometimes
taking long glances up.
She was waiting for someone, I could tell.
I looked at her and she at me,
and we both smiled.
Then a sudden silence,
she looked away from me.
A man, who had an ego,
(Then again, doesn't every man have one)
brushed my shoulder and pushed me away.
He apologized, not sincerly.
They kissed and hugged,
I went back to writing with a frown.
They went away in love, I guess?
And I sat all alone in that
lonesome wayward cafe.
Nothing to keep me company, but smell of coffee and tea
and the laughs of the women sharing small talk,
and that one man with Earth shattering cough.


Details | Free verse | |

Pretty

I am pretty. 
I know, because everyone says so.

I am so pretty that
Hoodies and lack of makeup
Translate as showing off
Natural beauty- as confidence
In the fact that everyone
Will love me,
Instead of disinterest...

I am so pretty that
Boys ask how old I am,
And say, "Too bad..."
Because I'm under 18.

I am so pretty that
My boyfriend doesn't like
To kiss me in public
Because everyone stares
At the Hispanic boy
With- The nerve!-
To touch a white girl-
And a pretty white girl,
No less!

I am so pretty that
Any boy will flirt with me 
And when I remind them
That I have a boyfriend,
They protest,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty that
When my best friend,
A Muslim girl,
Taught me how to wear
A hijab, 
People asked why
Would I ever cover up;
They would say,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty
That I know I could never
Say that I feel lonely-
People would just say,
"But you're so pretty!"

I am so pretty that
When I'm upset,
People will tell me,
"But you're so pretty...
You, know that, right?"

Yeah. I know.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Nobody Can

There is nobody in this world knows how I am feeling right now,
Trying to  get it to all  make some kind of sense from it  some how.
   Filled with deceptions and lies leaving me nothing for me to find,
One memory there is that is truly real cause there's none in my mine.
   This sickening feeling overwhelms me making me cold to my soul,
I am surrounded by gloom and sadness the worst I've ever known.
   How is it I am to suffer like this for loving with all my heart ,
Always protecting you and always been the light in your dark.
   Why me with the love so true and a honest soul  feel such pain,
I should feel the Sunshine in my life not tears that fall like rain.
   Was it the  blindness caused by her natural beautey and tender words,
Or is it that I have lied to myself for so long it was almost absured.
   Difficult for me to face this grief that I had always anticipated,
The moment you came back into my life these days been pre dated.
    It was Love itself I have wanted to bask in to know the Joy,
This despair , lonliness ,and all the nightmares  I needed to avoid.
    A wreck just waitng to happen and the wounds opened up again,
Never  thinking of when all began only wanting it all to just end.
   Days that will be lost and the memories you will never have,
It's the worst kind of emptiness and confusion I've ever had.
   These times we share when we are alone and nobody around,
The thoughts we have of fantasies are somewhat profound.
   Is there a lesson here to be learned and remembered ,
Or is it I am that lost soul  that lonely Pretender.
   This can't possibly be the very last and the end for me,
If so then it has always  been what was meant to be.
   When and how it all went wrong and strayed off course,
Something I will never know  or do I want to anymore.
   There is nobody  that knows what I am feeling today,
I tried making sense of it and found that there is no way.
   A fence that will never be mended or memories replaced,
Just a lonely life  and a broken heart is what I must face .
   Get on with my life  pray  for better days  I must do,
How  can I do that if it has to be without having you.
Tac


Details | ABC | |

if you only knew

when you lose sight of what really counts
its easy to focus on only whats shallow
am i too fat is my nose too big
do i walk or talk weird whats wrong with me
when we forget the depth that is here in this world
and focus on things that are just absurd
so maybe im not a supermodel and my bums a tad on the thick side
and maybe im no a genius thats getting a scholorship on my side
but does that mean im nothing that i dont count
this world is getting sickening count me OUT
im ashamed of myself for even thinking like this
and obsessing to tears over shallow petty shit
i am praying that god hears my pleas for help
because i cant conquer this all by myself
i used to not care didnt care at all
but like any other i rise and fall
i am of the opinion that your body is a shell
and youll leave it behind when you go to heaven or hell
it will rot in the ground and count for nothing
and when i meet my maker he wont care how big my bum is
some women ONLY care about their looks and they dont get it
they dont see the big picture 
and i fear theyll regret it 
and other women dont care even at all 
about their looks because their depth is so massive and raw
but then theres me in the middle with so much depth and spirituality
why do i waste time wondering what are all the things wrong with me
im sick of crying over it ive done it for too long
im sick of getting angry when i cant crawl out of my bod
its a thought that i had reguarding a cacoon
like how catapielers go into them and out comes a butterfly zoom
if i could just crawl out my mouth my soul free for just a moment
and be allowed to have a different shell to live and own it
i wonder what its like to feel just for a second
not arrogance but a sweet compliment from someone who MEANT IT
my desperate pleas go out to you and anyone else who will listen
i hate my body im sick of my face and my voice is just ridiculous
so lets just drop it in the ocean let it sail away
cuz me im going to better places where i dont have to cry all day
where i know that my body is just a little shell a vehicle if you will
its our car or truck or limo or bus to use while we use our free will
and ive always said when you go you don't take your money your lambergini
or your watch expensive jewlery its all staying beind
and you should think about what YOUR world is while im trying desperatley to fix mine


Details | Narrative | |

What Do You See

I found this old poem while helping to clean out a house that was vacant. I hope you 
don't mind that I didn't write it but it was too awesome not to post. Enjoy--------
          

                                   What Do You See

What do you see, nurses? What do you see?	
What are you thinking when your looking at me? 
A crabby old women, not very wise.
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes.
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply.
When you say with your loud voice, "I do wish you'd try."
Who seems not to notice the things that you do,
and forever is losing a sock or a shoe.
Who unresisting or not lets you do as you will.
When bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what your thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes nurse, your not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still.
As I drink at your bidding, as I sit at your will.
I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother.
Brothers and sisters who love one another.
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet.
Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at 20. my heart gives a leap.
Remembering the vows I primised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own.
Who need me to build a secure happy home.
A women of 30, my young now grow fast.
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At 40 my young sons near grown will be gone.
But my man stays beside me to see I don't mourn.
At 50 once more babies play round my knee. 
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead.
I look to the future and shudder with dread.
For my young ones are busy rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known.
I'm an old women now and nature is cruel.
It's her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigor depart.
There now is a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells.
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and loving life over again.
I think of the years, all the few--gone to fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes nurses, open and see.
Not a crabby old women, look closer,  see ME.

This poem was found among the effects of a patient who died at the Oxford
University Geriatric Service in England. Author is unknown.


Details | Light Poetry | |

dylan thomas quote

“Why do men think you can pick love up and re-light it like a candle? Women know when love is over.” 
? Dylan Thomas



Together they were for 10 years or more
In love, glad to be just two
But something happened on a rugby trip
That changed their point of view

Too many beers, dulled the brain
Raised his libido to great heights
Made the mistake of a one night stand
His true love was out of sight.

He confessed it all when he got home
Heartbroken they both just knew
That it was over for them
Nothing was left to rescue.

After a few months they met again
He was charming hoped things would go right
They had a meal together talked through their pain
Both were sad that they’d had the fight

He was convinced t would be all ok
That she would forgive him without doubt
Just one silly mistake he keeps on thinking
Surely she would rather be with him than without.

“Why do men think you can pick love up               )             
 and re-light it like a candle?                                      )quote of dylan thomas              Women know when love is over.”                           )

That it was more than she could handle.


So they parted as they met
Sad and on their own
The bird of happiness no longer theirs
Taken flight and gone.







Motto is:          Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. 


Details | Rhyme | |

life lesson

She searches and looks for Mr. right
A strong man, a shining knight
Looking and searching for someone to hold her close
To comfort her when she needs it most
-
Approached by a man with no one else on his mind
He believes she's a woman worth all his time
To be there, whenever she needs a hand
Together against the world they stand
 
His mind is full of images like this
He wants to be her king, surround her with love and bliss
For when he is around her, strange feelings are amiss
And an almost pain catches him , as his heart seems to miss
-
She watches him approach, disapproving of his love
He's missing something, or dislikes what he does
Without giving him a chance, she turns him down
In search for a man, with a "real crown"
-
With a broken heart, and a damaged pride
The man still believes she's Mrs. Right
But he knows there's something he doesn't have
He watches her, a faint hope in his sight
 
He adjusts his approach and tries once again
To be more to her then just a friend
"For me to be hers and her to be mine"
To be together for as long as time
-
She rejects him once again
She wants love, but not from him
instead she falls for someone else
And then cries about how this other person made her felt
 
She doesn't realize the devotion of his love
That just maybe, this the one sent from above
-
He walks off, broken once again
Pride destroyed, and heart barely beating
With slightly less respect for women
He forces himself to try again


Details | Free verse | |

Destruction of Women

Some men seek to destroy women to satisfy their own
pitiful images of themselves, subjecting the fairer sex
to lives of hell,

Whether its emotional, physical or mental abuse,
Either way, their distortion of women have grown obtuse,
Their respect has dwindled and they would rather treat
them like refuse,

The misguided men are really vying for their souls,
but strong women rarely acquiesce to the heinous
acts of hate and distress they cast upon them,

The godesses of earth outer shells may die, cry
and live with shame, yet their souls still roar with
beauty and a tireless flame,

Only cowards would seek to destroy whom God has created
to raise good girls and boys......


Details | Quatrain | |

How much are you

How much? A phrase so common
The worth a commodity should wear on.
But what else can give it that price tag
Than the present value it now has.

So unfortunate most girls don’t know how much they are
Displaying what ought to be covered
And giving it all on a platter
So men have no need to dig further.

Howling and moaning under leaves and branches
The lucky ones get the honor of a back seat.
Even most animals can’t get so low
How cheap they are, this goes to show.

Wished only you knew
How “your honeys” now see you.
You can no longer walk by tall as you used to
Now they have known all that it is about you.

Painted withered flowers blooming around
So breath-taking yet so sour
Fading the more they are used.
How much now are you?


Details | Free verse | |

Soulful Cries

I scream, at the top of my lungs
No sound, comes out
Silent, curdling screams
Is, all I have left, now
I wrestle; I fight, with all, my physical might
While, being forced down 
By the mighty strength, of many men
The pungent smells of dirt, sweat and grime
Embed, in my senses
Their ghastly hot breathes; making me, want to puke!
Their hands, all over me
Constantly grabbing and groping me
Hollering and cheering each other on
Then, someone punches me
Someone, I cannot see
A large man’s hand, covers my nose and mouth
Muffling my soulful cries, terrifying, my insides!

I can’t breathe, now!

Many heavy handed blows, follow
In a blurry haze
I watch, my scarlet red blood splatter
Upon the snow white sheets, that surround
My sacred blood spilled
My salty tears mixed in with sticky men’s semen
My body, a raging torrent of scorching hot lava
Lulling into a translucent, entranced state
Surrendering, to the primal, animalistic frenzy
The men, taking what they want, anyway they want it
Devouring every morsel left ,of my weak and weary body
My body fighting, for its God given right
To live, now!
My life flashes before my eyes
The sounds around me begin to fade
My eyes glaze over, my body goes limp
My body betraying me, when I need her the most!
Silently, I pray for this is not my will, but their own
“Have mercy upon these souls” 
“Please forgive these men, as I do, now
“My love remains with you, heavenly Father”
Blackened tears of jet black mascara
Weave their way down
Through the bloody crevasses, of my black & blued skin
My body used up, a lifeless vessel, totally numb!
My innocence and dignity stripped!
No one, can save me, the worst is done!
Bashed, beaten, worn
I am nothing, no more...


Details | Narrative | |

SCARCE HARVEST

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | Narrative | |

A REVELATORY MESSAGE OF SALVATION

The Good News is for people
who have a sickness and need to be healed,
and healing starts with a reborn spirit,
but spiritual blindness won't make one look upward,
to ask for forgiveness and becoming whole;
the Good News can give you a new heart
with their revelatory message full of promise...
coming upon you form the Divine Source!



Who has the audacity to blame God
for not intervening in the world's affairs,
whose troubles are too numerous to mention?
Starvation causes incurable diseases,
bizarre and unrestrained sexual behavior kills;
state after state approves of the same sex marriage:
Sodom and Gomorrah lives on
with their merry-making mocking!  



And the same individuals who frequent
holy places, in which they worship their god with vain praises,
condone the filth and ugliness already tolerated by society,
making easier for them to express their sexuality
in offensive ways and disobey God's commandment;
two men taking the role of a lovable daddy,
and two women that of a devoted mommy?
Aren't they sending the wrong message to those tiny beings?



If men lay with men and women with women;
conception is denied the joy of blissful birth,
and the screams of babes, coming out of the belly, 
won't be heard anymore...what an awful pity
for children not to have mom's and dad's affection: 
to live a normal childhood on this beautiful earth!
O lost and uncaring people, receive and hear with elation,
the Good News with their revelatory message of salvation!
  

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


Details | I do not know? | |

A Bad Friend

As I sit in the dark corner 
Looking about the rest of the room 
Nothing but emptiness 
I sit there awaiting my doom 
My black kitty walks about 
Pouncing on the shadows 
White lights walk on my wall 
As the cars pass my windows 
I close my eyes and plug my ears 
The screaming wont go away 
I sit there watching my friend die 
I have been waiting for this day 
She dies a slow and painful death 
As the women cuts her whole body 
Deep and penetrating cuts putting her through pain 
This women is very very naughty 
She screams when the women cuts her throat 
She is blacking out to the point where she cant see 
I sit there watching my best friend die 
To bad the women killing her is me


Details | Rhyme | |

No, We Can't Be Friends!!!!

You say that I'm not a good wife, 
 but I supported you while you were in jail.
How can I not be a good wife, 
 when I stood by you when others would bail?

You know how to push my every button.
 How to make me doubt myself and get mad.
You're the fool who will never realize
 the loyal, forgiving, faithful wife you had.

Not many people will stand by a man, 
 who is an addict, has cheated and hit them.
I gave you a second chance with our marriage, 
 I was the fool who went out on a limb.

I never should have given you the first chance.
 You didn't deserve to have someone like me.
Not that I'm beautiful or glamorous, just normal.
 But you use women to get what you need.

You feed on women with low self esteem, 
 using your looks to get your foot in the door.
Well, I learned my lesson, though I love you, 
 You're a disgrace, and I deserve more.

I'm tired of you calling and playing your mind games.
 You say hurtful things that make me cry.
Why can't you leave me alone, do what you do best, 
 Go get drunk, screw some skank and get high!

I don't want you in my life anymore, 
 No, we can't be friends and stay in touch!
You can't make amends for what you've done, 
 Its over, you've put me through way too much!

You'll never change, so why would I want
 to even think of giving you another chance?
I did my time, I'm done, its over, Good-bye, 
 It didn't work for us, I'm no longer in your trance!

Just sign the papers, for once be a man
 and do as I ask, I've given you enough of my time.
Go back to how you were when we met, using women,
 not wanting to work, doing drugs and your life of crime.


Details | Narrative | |

Morning Star

Across her village far deep in to the forrest Morning Star found peace and 
contentment. Here away from her village, the young girl enjoyed the daylight 
hours with the sounds and beauty of nature and it's animals. Beyond the forrest 
the mountains held a mystery all their own. Their beauty touched her soul and 
spirit yet they seems so far off to her.Her thoughts wondered what lay over them 
and what new world lay beyond those haunting peaks reaching to the sky.
    Suddenly the early morning was shattered by the sounds of gunfire. With all 
the men gone hunting no one was there to protect the village. Morning Star's 
thoughts were of not only the others in the village but of her mother and baby 
sister, she had to get back to them. Screams of women and children cut through 
the forrest as the scent  of smoke and the sounds of horses grew closer.  
Suddenly the sounds began to fade and only the smell of smoke remained. As 
she stood at the clearing, Morning Star saw what was left of her village. Unable to 
move as her eyes looked across the bodies of women and children laying all 
around. Tears filled her eyes as she walked by so many searching for her 
mother and baby sister, hoping that they had fled to safety. There in the dirt lay 
her mother clutching her baby sister, both dead. How could this have happened? 
How could the soldiers have done this to them?
  Morning Star placed a blanket over her their lifeless bodies and slowly walked 
away. Her life as she knew it was gone, dead along with her mother and baby 
sister. She was the only survivor.  Slowly she walked back into the forrest. Dusk 
was beginning and the forrest would keep her safe for the night. Tomorrow she 
would search for a way up to the mountains, there she would find a path to her 
destiny and what the spirits have chosen for her. She would be the only one to 
tell the story of all who had been lost this day. She would be the only one to keep 
their story alive for generations after this.


Details | Free verse | |

This Love Might be Different

Two in love.
Together they are bound
But with each possessing a curse
Broken hearts to be are found
One never able to shed a tear
Even in the face of Death, whom she fears
The other only able to live off of drinking others tears
How can she survive?
She cannot stay strong for all the years she promised
But I give her my heart
And she holds it to her close
Knowing this will kill us
Maybe we will fare better as ghosts
Or maybe we are strong enough
To fight off Damnation
This love might be different
It does not have to crumble like our nation....


Details | I do not know? | |

The Other Woman

no need to explain 
see that thing between him and me
don't worry about that because there's no more chemistry
get yourself a real man
that will own up to his mistakes
instead of me answering his phone
hearing you other women complaints
about how your on top and I'm on the bottom
you want his man; take him no problem
but just so you'll know
he's like a puzzle; can't solve him
you're getting a trick not a treat
all his women are toys
and like pieces of meat
this is the last phone call I'm taking
Christmas is coming you dummy
and I'm in my damn kitchen baking
so do me a favor
please take him and don't look back
shows over
no refunds
now fade to black


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Blood Still Flows

What god is this god,
That treats me this way,
This dark heart that wishes,
That I’d just runaway,
I’ve been treated like dirt,
But the blood is still flowing,
I’ve got the knife in my hand,
I have to keep going!

I’ve seen the hell that is home,
And rivers with blood,
I’ve seen the soulfully sad eyes,
Of that women that cries,
The tears still ride the faces of man,
The women and children,
Still crying and ran,
This home is hell,
And I’ve seen it all now.

Like I’ve said before,
The blood is still flowing,
For everybody else,
But I’m stuck here alone,
Time has stopped for me,
I’ll never die,
I’ll always cry,
Let lightning strike me a thousand times over,
I can’t hurt anymore,
The blood is still flowing,
But mine’s stopped cold. 


Details | Lyric | |

Guts, God, & Glory

            
A tribute to the women and men who fought and died and never received their 
just honors or glories.
   And to the mommas and daddies that lost these children, this is their stories.
To say the least war is hellish, ghoulish, and sometimes the last resort to settle 
irreconcilable differences.
   For it’s during these times the devil is let loose to wander freely, disguised as a 
mighty leader is just one way he can alter his many appearances.
War is always given a just and noble cause, but I often wonder sometimes how 
much truth is in all of that.
   What it really boils down to is that someone is trying to push their ways or ideas 
on you and it eventually leads to combat.
So what do you do when you are challenged with these issues.
   Pray to God for wisdom, seek strength, and courage, and hand momma the 
tissues.
It’s always our children who are the first line of defense against these causes of 
war.
   Freedom has never come cheap, and that is the only explanation you can give 
someone who loses a loved one on some foreign shore.
Could be we might be praising budda while eating that bowl of fish eyes and rice.
   Had that son or daughter of ours not paid the ultimate price.
War should never be condoned but used only as a necessary tool.
   Only for God and country should it ever be used and never allowed in the hands 
of a fool.
So I thank God for my country, and bless the ones that had to fall.
   Where would we be if these brave men and women had not answered the call.
   


Details | I do not know? | |

Unknown

I wonder what its like
To be a woman who conceives
A life grows inside her
That started from a seed.

I wonder what its like 
To feel this wonder move inside
Kicking, jabbing, turning
Of this I am mystified.

I wonder what its like
This pain of giving birth
Something women endure
The suffering is well worth.

I wonder what its like
Holding a baby of your own
But for women like myself
This will forever be unknown.