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Sonnet Angst Poems | Sonnet Poems About Angst

These Sonnet Angst poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Angst. These are the best examples of Sonnet Angst poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sonnet | |

Strength

The trip to church on Sunday wasn't long
Down dry dusty country roads closer roamed
Hearts did rejoice when singing love's sweet song
Precious memories now deeply intoned

A home filled to the brim with kith and kin
No evidence of the grief she suffered
When in her youth tales of such loss did spin
By age of twenty-five her life crumbled

Joys of a young bride with husband beside
Darling daughters three in tow~gone~from life
Oh, life issues such hard brazen blows inside
No longer was she a mother and wife

Her faith in a loving God never failed
She had strength of character which prevailed  

I have been doing some research about my biological family
I found that my father's mother was married in her youth
and had three daughters which all died as did her husband..
She married my grandfather and then had four sons which
all lived..She never gave up her faith through it all..What strength.


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AS HEART OBEYS


Upon the pier of restless shore
she scans across the endless swell,
to end pain’s woe just like before...
her necklace breaks, in chilled farewell.

On edge of evening,clockwork races
with hope to drown in circling waves. 
No more a chance to hold stars’ graces,
a wish tangled in child’s tomb, engraved.

Big dipper heeds her whimper, faint
as dazzling light soaks in deep sea. 
Her infant harks ,” Mom, be restraint;
I'm here with you, through love’s glory.”

By questioning the bleak of days
her truth alights, as heart obeys.


Surviving after Suicide Attempts Contest
Sponsor: Anne Currin
by nette onclaud 


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The Old Twisted Tree (English Sonnet 003)

The old twisted tree burrows into dreams,
more frightful here than in waking hours,
a wicked darkness pulses from harsh seams,
displaying its paralyzing powers.

Those gnarled branches are filled with sharp fingers,
clashing loudly in the wind's fervent fray;
over the whole valley this sound lingers-
is the only defense to kneel and pray?

Courage must face this tree with sharpened axe,
cutting through the thick bark, once and for all,
felling this fright, so the town can relax,
relishing in that evil monster's fall.

Please brave 'cutter, unleash those mighty blows,
and make sure that no new offspring there grows!


Details | Sonnet | |

Modern Marketing, A sonnet

Oh heavy heart these PR men in power
Yellow waxen masks reciting lies
Discovered by research in college towers
Who watch flashing brains in MRIs
Recording as fear lightens lobes
Word and images recorded and sold by drones
For use by corporate men round the globe
Control both CEOs and worker clones
Yet life's free forces flow in city and town
For through the dark. forces strive to transcend
As ever bruised and bloodied onward bound
Through a jumble of fears passes the path of men


Details | Sonnet | |

Dark Angel

How intricate your mind. How it can vex! A labyrinth that offers no escape, its walls are glazed with patterns that perplex. I glimpse inside. At times I stop and gape at murals which reveal an iridescence. But shallow are the joys you sometimes feel. I turn to find I’m facing evanescence. Intense emotions swell; become surreal. They swirl with thought; descending, they exude through dark partitions winding through your head. The maze becomes a spiral to seclude you from the world and me. I feel your dread. Dark angel, trapped in strange and endless gloom, to stay with you would mean to share your doom. For Nathan's ......."INSANITY or DEATH"......Poetry Contest Theme: Insanity to Darkness


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Stepping from the darkness of alone

I must carry this torch down to the cave
To shed light upon the walls of my heart
For, if not, I will take it to my grave
And on that path may make an early start

I cannot think of love, when love is what
Consumes my every thought in every hour
I gambled all I have and took my shot
Chanced my wretched life to fate’s cruel power

But love is what I deeply need to give
My life is not my own unless it’s shared
This aching heart with which I have to live
Must find his mate if he’s to be repaired

But first I must let go the one I crave
And leave this burning torch within the cave ~


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AN EPITAPH

Will liberty ring out again,
beneath the cries of human rights
can freedom's name survive,
dissembling and lies;
Will duty from its prison flee
throw off its shackled memory,
is respect just a word,
spoken,but never heard:
How long,how long 'til I becomes thee ?
when ,when, will ego bend the knee,
the victim is not me
my friend,my friend,it's we.

Who rings this bell of liberty
truly sounds,our culture's death knell.



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The feeble heart

You wish to reach the deepest parts of me
To lure the abandoned child from her eternal sleep
To protect my shrouded frailty and soothe the storm within
But through no fault of my own, I could never truly let you in
You will underestimate my devotion, and burden my heart
Shatter my delicate trust, and at your hands, I'll surely fall apart
It would be wise for me to forget
Your eyes, your arms, your lips upon my neck
The heart knows no rationale, unlike the mind
But it holds the answers that logic unceasingly struggles to find
It's in my nature, it has always been my way
To seek comfort in solitary darkness, I find no refuge in the light of day
In my earliest years I discovered that no matter which love I chose
Far too many thorns mar a single rose


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OUR MIDNIGHT PLACE

 OUR MIDNIGHT PLACE
As certain as the rains do fall in spring,
will be my love, for you to have and hold,
and know you now--my rain of love will bring
to you, all joy of which all love is told.

No one could ever count the drops that fall,
and so is put together, love for you,
numbers cannot be given them at all,
though put together, one is what will do.

And every single drop adds beauty there
to something we can call a rainy day,
to fill with love, made up, from everywhere,
the drops of life that make love what we say.

Our midnight place, your front porch, dreaming of
each drop of rain that's filled with so much love.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


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FIRST KISS OF OUR LOVE

 FIRST KISS OF OUR LOVE
I've just some things I thought your heart should hear,
since they've been weighing heav'ly on my mind,
so list' and I shall whisper to thine ear
with all compassion my poor heart can find.

You've touched me deeply with the way you smile;
such lips could sooth the beast of anyone;
and spreading love with looks must be your style
for every time our eyes meet, love comes on.

Now I'm about to kiss the lips of you
for this first time, I pray the memory
shall linger on through years life takes us through,
together, as I'm certain this will be.

This first kiss of our love will never end
and changes whom you guessed was just your friend.
© RON WILSON AKA VEE BDOSA


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Aphrodite Night

    APHRODITE NIGHT
Remembering that night of our last touch,
when nothing was between us we should know,
in love with loving you, and just how much
I wonder where in time do such nights go?

Forbidden like a box that's sealed up tight,
or like the flame that Zeus refused to share
with mortals such as we, and on this night,
Pandora's box was opened everywhere,

you were, that night, my first and only love
and always shall remain that part of me,
created from the earth and waters of
a night that Aphrodite made to be.

       And I am more than blessed for loving you
          forever and all time, as I shall do.
                   © RON WILSON aka vee bdosa


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THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN

      THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN     
        February 13, 1945
Pathfinders lit the night to show the way
for bombardiers too hungry for the word;
as Dresden's dark was made as light as day,
all hearts were stopped before the blasts were heard;

and as the din was heard by all their ears
the sound it made was not reality
but far removed from all the hopes and fears
and what they thought would never come to be.

They loved the Fuhrer--sin enough for all
to die the fiery death of sweet revenge
brought on by those who had enough of gall
to drop their loads in wartimes heated binge!

       And when the fire consumed all that it could
        the winter of their lives was understood.


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ANXIETY

       ANXIETY
A wave that grows from deep inside of me
to bring me down--I feel it start to grow;
its' only name--is called--anxiety,
where it comes from--no one could ever know.

As tiny needles prick my skin--I feel
sensation of a drifting tenderness-- 
that goes from here to there--and so un-real--
it leads my mind to only second guess

at what's invading for the death of me,
and tingles from my fingers, to my toes--
abducted from my world of sanity,
I fall into a dark that no one knows.

And shaken to an end I can't embrace--
I feel its' kiss--but never see its' face.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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shakespeare parody 2k14

Shall I compare thee to a most foul stench?
A skunk’s sweet-smelling aura more lovely
Than that ugly face which makes my fists clench.
Pray you leave; that we should be so lucky!

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is your pale complexion broiled,
To peeling, pasty, unnat’ral pink lines,
Reminiscent of a red lobster, oiled.

But soon, sweet sleaze-ball, thine sunburn shall fade
And leave in its wake, that china-fair skin,
Which glitters bright e’en in afternoon shade;
So strange I suspect you are but pure sin.

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives my complete hatred for thee.


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Goodbye II

Oh the word that strikes mortal as of knife
puncture’s a wretched heart, a life in plight,
bequeathed in good faith, oh yes so rife
yet to a forlorn soul it does one smite.
Is it not that time of a lovers mind
under the moon and stars, nothing amiss,
where thoughtfulness of a heavenly kind
not the doom, gloom of an endless abyss.
So the word that disjoins is deemed to be
the ending of a friendship so extreme,
because together lovers belong, free
free of this word that loses self esteem.
Yet what to do if from this word refrain,
borrow from another “Auf Wiedersehn”?

© Harry J Horsman 2012 


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Beautiful Lies

Beautiful Lies

One beautiful lie , an unvoiced sonnet
Words veiled with a crime that steals my hearts last beat
Slow turn of your mood shows me disquiet
With kisses warm and vulgar with deceit.

One pulse stills, our love was not the one love,
Just remains of a lukewarm cup of tea.
You steep and brood, one pineing the lost dove.
My broken wing lame, I fall into the sea.

Beautiful lies, my heart begs for your fires
To hear the words forged my way by anvil
Beautiful lies, hope grows dim and expires
Waiting for judgment by divine gavel

Tremble my lips , tears fall dry from my eyes
Protect me from madness, beautiful lies.


Details | Sonnet | |

On A Summer's Aftermoon

       ON A SUMMERS AFTERNOON
Come sit a spell--we'll take a little time--
from out of life, forgetting what we know;
and talk upon some things I guess that I'm
much closer to--than things life's had to show.

Do you know love? It's funny how it goes
to almost anyone, who needs it not,
but be there need--and love--it never shows
like finer things of life, to those who've got!

Now does that seem to be a fitting thing
to talk about, as passing time away?
Or would you choose what weather has to bring
as here we sit--with nothing more to say?

I guess your life's been blessed--and filled with love
or you'd know what my heart is speaking of.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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Purpose

I wake filled with anxiety and despair
My body aches and is full of pain
My first thought is of what is not there
There is nothing I can do to stop the thoughts in my brain

I go to the medicine cabinet to take a pill for anxiety
But still my mind reels with thoughts of what I want
Why must I put this burden upon me
I’m trapped in a life where I must be nonchalant

As the day goes on it just gets worse 
There’s a nagging feeling that I’m not me
My mind and body beginning to hurt
I hide inside myself so no one can see

Will I ever release myself from this hell
As of today there’s no way to tell



Details | Sonnet | |

You'd never heal

All you took went in your bottle 
The energy is full throttle 
All those feelings mixed together 
Will explode on the road of the nether 

Never thought you’d let them leave 
It’s happened but you can’t believe 
That the damage has all been done 
And the pain is yet to stain the sun 

Now you see why you must vent 
Half of what’s said is ever meant 
The other half reflects your age 
Embrace what can misplace rage 

Release all that encumbers 
In the greatest of numbers 
And tell the trusted what’s wrong 
Because life is brief, but grief is long 

So don’t conceal 
How you feel 
Or you will peel 

Your emotions 
Mixed with potions 
Cause erosions 

You’d never heal


Details | Sonnet | |

Easter

The celebration cometh as Christ
was nailed on the cross of cavalry
carrying our burden of sins.
Everyone was bitter sad and
He spoke out is last storming statement
That was stamped by heaven and
gave up the ghost.

On the third day;
He resurrected and appear to his
people, who is he”JESUS CHRIST”
he is alive, he never dies but slept!!!


Details | Sonnet | |

Arise

Arise, you song birds sing in morning dew;
The flow’ry host to colour fields and furrows,
And sap of Spring runs gold in willows veins; 
As tender leaves unfold to speak of birth,
Fresh mountain ranges iced give life anew—
While waters melt and stream through cricks and borrows
The gleams of light will melt the winter strains
Though spills of oil have quenched the songs of earth.
The corporate sting of greedful revenue,  
Has bankrupt natural wonders—greedy farrows
The eagle has no pow’r to save her eggs,
Tall forests fall and crush the robin’s hue
When flow’ry petals change to black on yellow—
The spotted fawns arise with warbled legs


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To Be or Not to Be

Shall I find this moment of my death cold
To chose life, for life's sake, my kingdom lost
A valiant decision, to be so bold
Rather to weigh the righteousness, the cost
This barren field plowed by legacy's blood
Now corrupt by darker skies, without sun
To slay this solemn heart, in shallow mud
To lay cold and feeling the life blood run
Has my spirit fell upon earth so weak?
To gather strength, to flee this ancient ground
And learn to live less a king, life unique
To be a ghost, among the shadows found

Shall I chose to drown in life's rushing tide
Shall I chose to masquerade and hide 


for the contest Shakespeare
4/27/14


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The Errant Knight

Seeing through the wav’ring flame of light
your porc’lain skin your brazen eyes so fair,
the songs which stir the depth of frosty night
do not waylay the course of love’s despair.

For love of King, not I, thine heart’s declared.
Oh, I am damned by wanton deed bespoke
on Furies wings my cursed heart’s ensnared   
and in the fire we shall rise on smoke.

My love I’ll not rescind, nor Him provoke.
Beside your sleeping form our bed a pyre, 
the curtain's caught in candle flame once stoked, 
we’ll go to Holy Hell within the fire,

a martyred Queen, an errant Knight so blind
for Kings and common men are seldom kind.


Details | Sonnet | |

Happy Anniversary!

The anniversary of your treason
Disturbs the air—again! Like every year
Floating, whispering, the one real reason
You left me; the name never leaves my ear.
“Him!” a name I can’t even speak, wouldn’t dare.
For it would cause chaos and confusion  
Too daunting, distances too far to bear, 
Can’t even comprehend that illusion.
You left me here to sit—sick! And the thought
Of you and him in that beautiful embrace…
It’s a damn shame what you did! I OUGHTA!!!!!
Just, calm down—please! Dear Lord, please give me grace.
	The love you gave—your perfect portrayal,
	The love you took—your perfect betrayal.

Submitted for Olusegun Adelana's "Betrayal" contest


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A Daydream

My spirit's restless as my dreams proceed
To dwell in fantasies of love's desire
And leave this moment for a pause I need
To gather all the strength I can aquire
A place my mind can go so I can flee
And find a quiet space so close within
To lay upon the fields of memory
And battle with the demons of my sin
A sinner hiding in a house of lies
Reliving passions of a kiss I shared
An innocent before the coming cries
I'll search these psalms to lift me from despair

How could I have been so vulnerable?
I hold my yearning choice responsible


 for contest A Daydream
4/25/14



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Seeking Companionship

Desperately seeking companionship
Julie booked a cruise on a ship.
She met a very strange man there
with a beer belly and receding hair.

She ate the food and drank the drink;
the plumbing backed up, the whole ship began to stink.
For a solid week they were stranded there
with everyone running around in dirty underwear.

Finally the Coast Guard came and rescued them,
gave them cool fresh water and fed them spam.
Julie was glad to get back home but was sad she had no fun;
she contemplated her plight in life and decided to become a nun.

Julie knew that in a nunnery she would have no fun while there;
by this point she really didn’t care, at least she’d have clean underwear.


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Greed Wins


                                                         Greed Wins


                       Fate fetched them crushed in a crash, faint in hopes  
                                broken limbs, sober spirit, side by side
                                One by the window, the other beside .
                              They lay in room pale blue, chlorine chores.
                       Months together, movements knelled, they lay forth,
                        new found friends , out ‘a window small, one pried, 
                      Mouthed beauties there, to keep his pal’s smile bright
                             Other but heard, prayed, at this fortune swore,

                                His pal be slain, he be blessed with sights 
                          outside. Lo! Next dark day snatched the good soul
                            The lone peer blessed. Soon, he sent his eyes
                             Outdoors, on an old bleak wall, nothing more
                                Drained in spirit he cursed his greed wry 
                                   “Beautifully lied ...he kept me alive”


Italian Sonnet, pentameter,rhyme scheme  abbaabba  cdcd bb

Mehnaz Veetil


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Tears In Jars

Warm soft comfortable surrounded here
Splish, splash bouncing rock and roll good good life
Then fast change being forced into a tear
What happened, has into great life come strife

Baby died before it had chance to live
That is when I left her young tender head
Roll down her gentle cheek emotions sieve
Caught by angel in flight placed in bottle instead

Flown into the heavens to live with God
He gives me place to stay until some day
For some disbelievers they'll just give nod
Saying there are no tears in jars to stay

Every sad event in life when one cries
Shed tears down one's face come here to reside


Contest: "Personify A Tear"
Sponsor:  HGarvey Esquire
Written by: Sara Kendrick


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the fly

The Fly 
A fly is buzzing about in the backyard, it sounds like
a small plane lost in the wilderness of space, finally it 
skids and lands on the green lid of the cistern.
The pilot of the plane must find a landing place as it
Is dark and he doesn´t know where he is. A mountain 
suddenly appears in front of him, banks and just clear
the top. On the other side a valley and he sees what 
appears to be a landing strip, it is not but a dirt road.
It is a bumpy landing the plane breaks a wing and comes
to a stop on its side. Quickly the pilot gets out, just 
in  case of fire, he lights a cigarette and think of how 
lucky he has been. Throws the stub of the cigarette to 
the ground…explosion. I kill the fly with a rolled up  
newspaper…no  survivors. 


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Sea of Unrest

A weight bound tight inside of her prison, Does no man acquire the strength that's due? She sinks down deep as high tide has risen, As her figure's swallowed by darkest blue Resignating, do her lungs open so, Oh, how she opens the gate to her death; Crushed by the pressure, she rocks to and fro', Not even with closure of one last breath The waves crash above and smother below, It was the blackest of waters she'd known; Suddenly, pressure was letting her go, And the most loveliest light was then shown A pair of hands came for me, cold and wet; Eyes upon me, and but a lovers set.


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SLAVES BUT BRAVE ENOUGH

Oh, slaves of the nation who works and sweat!
Tired and restless--but still flee overseas
to support a hungry future that frets.
With  barks and claws gained from descent degrees,
if we must succeed-- oh, let us nobly work
so our blood and sweat may not fall to scrap,
veins swollen yet act by act we don't fall to smirk.
Freeing a flood of effort through thorns of gaps
though greedy compatriots act like monsters,
their eyes open wide but gone blindfolded by lies
some struggles and shout, aiming to conquer
bracing away from forms of guns and bribes.
Slaves are we but we're brave enough to replace
those crashing obstacles with lace of grace!

4:29 pm; December 12, 2014


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Just a Stranger to love

My lonely soul is stirred deeply, with in this bond
yet in all that one writes, it says all everything,
to wish of stimulus words, born of magic wand
stanza to create, yet not one a mind does bring.

The flame with in this heart, obscure now you are gone 
frozen doubts breed contempt, thus leaves nothing behind,
while upon a litany of time, life goes on
yet destroys all deeds innocent, secrets refined.

The wind brings no promise, only cuts deep this day
a memory of your lips, touched upon the screen,
to have not a option, the story of one’s spae
one is cast to deviate, to react the scene.

Yet on the horizon, a golden dawn above
another chance I ask, I: this stranger to love.

© Harry J Horsman 2012      


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STELLA DIES

   STELLA DIES
Dear Stella, up the path, into the park,
deep shadows hide the trees along the Seine,
the quiet of the night accents the dark
and you can feel your breathing now and then.

The peaceful gloom, enveloped by a mist,
all black and gray and shades of morbid white,
accentuates the place your eyes have missed,
where someone waits, who's watched you every night.

This place, where gendarmes warn to be aware,
tonight is more foreboding than you've known,
and so you pause; you look; is someone there?
it's then you realize, you are alone.

The snapping of your heels you hear increase,
as if the hurry puts your mind at peace.

Engulfed, the path leads up and from the Seine,
and then you'll be out of this narrow pit,
but suddenly you feel the eyes again,
much closer than a glove too small to fit.

You struggle with your thinking, in a word,
to flee or just pretend no one is there,
and so you hum a tune you've never heard,
and place your safety in your mother's prayer.

Oh, Stella, Stella, in the spring you'll wed,
your sweet Gaston. Believe he's at your side,
and you will laugh at all this gloom and dread...
though courage might have found you, it has lied.

The shadows all are moving; you can hear
the groaning of someone who's all too near.

The quiet; crickets sounding no alarm,
but now a drizzle rain cools at your heat,
and tingles flowing down onto your arm
remind you of the friends you'll never meet;

quite suddenly, he's grabbed you from behind,
and muffles any sound you might have found,
you cannot scream, to hurt is in your mind,
but he's too quick, he's pinned you to the ground.

Who is this thing, your lover or your friend,
you might have pained...why does he want you dead?
or is this just someone who brings the end,
you've never known, with killing in his head?

You feel no teardrops, feel no blood nor fright,
there's only blinding, blinding, blinding light....
© ron Wilson aka Veebdosa the Doylestown poet


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THE HAMMER OF THOR

THE HAMMER OF THOR
Twas but a state of troubled restless tears
To bring mere lalochezia to mind,
And thinking not that I'd be doing years
Alone all night, with not a friend to find.

Oh shit! that effing dork I'd come to know
Just yesterday, he set my path to be
In more or less, where never I should go
Without a weapon for defending me.

Twas Gay Paree! The term now changed by fate
And all the songs we'd come to holding dear
So out of tune cause it's another state
Not out of sight, but in a closet here.

And when I hit my thumb the hammer flew
Across the sky! To where, I never knew.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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River Deep, Mountain High

How do we ever know whom we've come to know
All we see is their periphery, externally on show
But what resides from within, can be River Deep, Mountain High
With levels we can't seem to count, internally they cry

Internally they cry, into a world we can't comprehend
It's no wonder they appear like this, if me, I'd be round the bend
One minute their world seems so right, suddenly a darkness descends
All it took was explainable, but a different signal they send

A different signal they send, yet it's receiver appears to know
What was there originally no longer appears to show
Just like a pendulum swinging, to the left and to the right
No middle happy medium, for when it stops out goes their light

When it stops out goes their light, and a darkness descends
Maybe it's what they had become, driven round the bend







http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-16.php


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CHOICE

          CHOICE
I'll be what I must be, in spite of me
as life won't always give the things I choose
and so I have to make what has to be
into the things my life and I can use.

All roads don't lead to Rome, as it's been said,
but some to Paris, and a little fun,
so I will change the path that I would dread
to go to where I choose, when I am done;

I'll not be forced into a better scheme
if I can't see the end result my way
if it's not part of what my heart can dream
it never will come to the light of day;

   All things can change, if I have any voice
    in what they are, and I will make the choice.


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CRYSTAL BALL

      Crystal Ball
There look I from the very depths of me
to levels where no one can ever know
and in the dark where only death could be
a little light fortells where life will go.

'Tis just a sphere of glass, a crystal ball,
to show the way into eternity
a dome of light, a refuge from it all,
fortelling what is always meant to be.

Then as I gaze into the deep of it,
all time's been frozen to the light I see,
and, mesmerized, I drift through space a bit
so free of all below, referring me.

The beauty I have found within this sphere
makes death's event a thing I'll never fear.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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A Titan's Rage

Raging, Stamping, shooting flaming fire bolts
Thor unleashes his titanic rage on us
charged spears that send paralysing volts
teaching all a lesson he send us a cuss

Fury emanating with every jolt 
despising, hating, destroying, callous
against mankind with passion he revolts
with powerful hate he does send onus

Killing all before him with mega volts
his anger  growing is most auspicious
his thunderbolts  these are no millivolts 
they rain down the killing so atrocious

Temper flaring intensifying each jolt
oh pray that soon he will hang up his bolt

written 3/07/2104


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CIL MAOLCHEADAIR

    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

Tears at My Age

For all the tears we’ve wept, for all of those we’ve lost.
We’ll weep again some more, as we’re told we matter not.
You know they will not say it, but it’s there within their eyes.
The old and frail aren’t welcome, as they’re steadily pushed aside.

If you don’t believe me, then at a party get up as if to dance.
Mouths will gawk and eyes will roll as they come to set us back.
They’ll act like we’re so shameful, as we laugh, and have some fun.
Then they’ll come to guide us to a chair somewhere in the background.

Our wisdom isn’t needed; they’re far too superior for that.
They can’t respect the old ones' thoughts, who're out of date, in fact.
Of course they want our money, and will gladly scope out our homes.
And they want us to beleaguer ourselves so they can go happily on.

But where is the regard that they say our age is due…
Too often it’s in a distant Nursing home no one will ever drive to.



This is dedicated to all those lost souls left in Nursing Homes whom no one
ever visits.


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THE FAR AWAY

        THE FAR AWAY
The far away, out near the end of things,
and where no one alive has ever been,
unless they had the guiding light that brings
the understanding of what's now and then;

this is reality of who we are
where just the thought of you has taken me,
the birth of every light--inflaming star,
the tiniest of thought that has to be.

And you can feel the magic in the air,
consuming everything you've ever known,
the burning of insanity that takes you there
will leave you cold, but you won't be alone.

      one day you'll waken to the warmth you see,
         and feel the magic of what has to be.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

From here to eternity

I am abandoned on this moonless night
What little remained of this once bright life
Seems, finally, to have faded from sight
Nightmares and black dreams, once rare, are now rife

This space around me used to be so large
But walls press a little closer each day
My waking hours are spent on just one charge
To push them back and hope this time they’ll stay

In lands beyond this world I find some sun
Where misty rivers flow to salty sea
On willow banks my heart and I are one
And from the pain of here I am set free

So now the mission that I have to face…
Is make that land become the only place ~


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To The Niece That Never Was

Sweet little girl who snuck upon her mom
without plans already in place to meet,
you’re a tiny hero, a bitter balm
for the wound that left an empty car seat.
A routine visit that ended in tears,
and an operation for the next week.
My sister’s truth was a mother’s worst fear,
never to hold her babe, to stroke her cheek.

After the grim appointment, her eyes glazed
her heart rate jumped high, and her fever raised.
Illness would have stolen her, but for fate.
You had asked a favor at heaven’s gate.
Thank you for saving my sister, sweet one.
I wish though, it didn’t mean your life was done.

11/3/12


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Shake It Up

Promises were made when you sought my vote
I swallowed your lies and it gets my goat
The changes you vowed did not come to pass
Where are those tax breaks for the middle class?

And what became of "peace in the Mideast"?
November will prove voter support has ceased
Congress exempts itself from their own mandates
No equal rights in these United States

Partisanship leads us down a dark road
The Tea Party's kettle is set to explode
Republicans, Democrats, please take heed
You've targets on your backs; soon you will bleed

A quick ticket home will be your reward
We the people won't buy lies anymore


*For the Outrageous Rhyme challenge


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In my Lifetime

(From the other side of the track)

Grammar the regal tool of pure English
Alas used as a wedge to classify,
A divided country a trait snobbish
To ridicule lampoon then pacify.
This class structure based on one’s conveyance
The transfer of language the written word,
A populace afraid of decadence
Chances of education seldom heard.

Behold the reign of slang chaste dialect
Devolved from our Viking forefathers,
Just a distant phase of one’s recollect
As those characters our grandfathers.
Tradition broken down with one issue
Purity of a language to pursue.

7th january 2012


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thank you

thank you parents by my side
trying to transcend to a state of joy
keeping my faith  high as cloud never want you to depart
to a sad life but i know someday your time will come
when youll be up above
but you soal l will always linger around forever
at time ill feel the nether at time we go through struggles
but its normal all the good time we had wont forget
always at your aid knowing you will  never betray me like a raid


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YOUR ART OF BEING BEAUTIFUL

YOUR ART OF BEING BEAUTIFUL - Mssr L'Vampyre
Again I see you since I don't know when.
Oh yes, it's been some time since we've been here,
I felt the same warm feeling I knew then,
and felt your eyes again, forever clear.

Your hair again a mess, there was no style, 
in baggy pants the way you choose to be,
but none-the-less your image made me smile,
well knowing you were there, if I would see.

'Tis plain you have not changed, and never will,
nor can you hide what's seldom seen too clear,
the beauty of your deep, the quiet of your still,
your reaching out, beyond your greatest fear.

How many times I've wished my heart was blind,
on second thought, give thanks you're there to find.
© ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


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Me & Periphery

Glassy memory wrestles me with scorn
Envisioning our flame once ever-bright,
Natural in flowing charm, such love reborn
To reflect divine creation each night.
Revelry taunts with dodgy clarity;
I’d abandoned the triumph of fervor
Forgetting such colossal rarity
In my float, this bobbing life preserver.
Caustic regret pulls my soul asunder
As the fool, undeniably aloof,
The walking embodiment of blunder
Isolated with messages as proof,
Outside your sphere to wile away my end
Never to be welcomed home as your friend.


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The Broken Girl-not me

Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? 
I am broken as can be. 
My heart is torn. 
My tears stain these perfect floors.  
Why are singing with glee? 
Why do you not care about my every plea? 
I am trapped in your arms. 
I am the hopeless moth. 
How did you pick me? 
What is it that you see? 
A girl untouched by life? 
A flower blooming in the desert? 
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.  
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.


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attic Living

Attic living 


The echo of wine is sadness, jokes told are
not funny and laughter is a bronchial cough. 
Mirth gone when Sunday is despondent,
an autumnal leaf that drags itself along
a clammy asphalt road. 
Wrinkled faces framed by nylon shawls,
 hesitate by church steps as wanting to hear 
more words of everlasting love;
before going home to empty rooms and 
dripping kitchen taps. 
October drizzle on Sunday´s best, bat wings 
open up and the murmur of the future less 
is a dying repeat; as the padre smokes 
a cigar in the vestry, wine has lost its glow. 




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After Seeing Doctor Zhivago

After Seeing Dr. Zhivago
Gawaine Caldwater Ross

The tragedy of human life
Can be condensed into some lines
Which, by the very barest bones
Convey the happiness and dreams of youth:
The grand adventure you would take,
The friends who come and go so fast
The killers who infect the night;
Drink! Drink! And drown in wine.
Of all the joy by blizzards blown
What’s left? Arcane, but living roots
Of herbs to wash away the ache
Of faces faint and hearts aghast.

The strong alone hold onto hope,
 The rest are lost in mines of grief
Where all that’s left to eat is mold
And no one has the least relief.


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Abuse

I have seen the horror of your creation,
Which sucks the marrow from my bones.
I know the danger to my station,
These daily terrors that you condone.
The crushing blows you have delivered,
Wrapped up in cruelty that makes no sense.
My hopes of happiness are all but withered,
No hope of justice or recompense.
The seeds you sow will soon be opened,
They flower with hatred and discontent.
No deed of yours will go unspoken,
The chains that bind me will soon be spent.
When these bonds from you are severed,
My justice served will be slow and measured.


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from Suede Dragon and the Theoretical Formula

A fragrant dancing tickles in my nose Inhaling deep- intoxicant perfume- Of some invisible narcotic rose. The earth is host to swirling love in bloom! Yet summers final blossom wilts away. Each dawning promissory sunset sky- Spectacular transition- ends each day, And no escaping, not for you and I! Two points of view may vary constancy, Surrendering to marginal debate. Relinquishing all fervent penalty, Embracing change, I yield, my devastate. May love transcendent of mentality Deliver always swift reality!


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Familial Bonds

A fellow stranger's doubt will surely sense  
Judgmental indiscretion of defect.  
'Tween enemies pure hatred circumvents  
The moral obligation to respect.  
 
The various consistencies as friend,  
Distill from swollen hearts this lonely ache,  
With passion starts yet may abruptly end  
So rarely people risk their hearts to break.  
 
A lover's walk is not fatality,  
Creating life two intimately share.  
If nurtured, loved, and taught respectfully  
Prosperity so gratefully will care.  
 
Of all relations listed here above  
Why is it people suffer feeling love?


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Masquerade

My head fills with words of pain and sorrow
But comes the dawn with hope of the morrow
And the private tortures haunting my dreams
Dissolve until all is not as it seems

These words in my head, as I start to write
Are supposed to be black, but turn out white
Instead of the angst, from being apart
I sing of the love that is in my heart

Maybe anxious poetry’s just not me
Perhaps that’s not what I want you to see
Nature and romance come more easily
Instead of the words I want to set free

So remember sometimes, these words will hide
Those caged ones that are burning deep inside ~


Details | Sonnet | |

BLOOD OF GERONIMO

    BLOOD OF GERONIMO
Great Spirit here come I in humble prayer
child of your Bedonkohe blood and line.
I raise my hands to recognize you there
and plea you recognize this heart of mine.

I know you welcome all into your light
And let my way, as through this death I go, 
Be swift and sure, if bad or good or right
As certain as blood of Geronimo.

Look! Is my line not tied to what's his past?
And does this not bring us our only choice
To bide amongst the tribe from out our past?
To gather in your light, and raise one voice

Of this, our song, our voices unified
And handed down through time, where we have cried.
...............© Ron Wilson
Another very special Sonnet that just wrote itself through me...where do they come from? And how?


Details | Sonnet | |

Terror

Terror 
Today I saw a hawk suddenly appear swooped and 
grabbed a sparrow standing on a phone line.
It sat on an old oak tree tearing it victim apart 
and since it was sated other sparrows flew about 
without fear. The human world is more complex 
we use religion to commit murder, this time as
often Islam a peaceful religion, has once again been 
used as an excuse for murder. 
This modern life soaked in blood, but we only react
to what we see, grisly murder enacted by idiots,
who do not deserve to be understood by liberals.
Yet I wish there were a phone camera ready when
drones tear limbs from the innocents´ bodies, most
of them children who do not understand why.   


Details | Sonnet | |

To Many Men Have Cried

The morning air turned silver, from the mist
The trees stood quiet, holding up the sky
This calming serenity unclenched my fist
As I came to this forest, wanting to die
Collected dreams still haunt me, from the war
The eyes of those I held, crying aloud
The cold of their skin stays forevermore
While I wear survival's guilt, a dark shroud
Today, came to invite death, free the pain
but, this forest grabbed  me, with a wolf's call
And chilled my spirit, what little remained
To release demons, that made my soul crawl 

A voice soft I heard, to say it's alright
Leave this place, you can now welcome the night

Dedicated to Robert


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And I, seeing you old upon your chair

And I, seeing you old upon your chair
Thinking how cold and heartless you could be.
The stern and bitter visage of your stare
That sense of something lost I couldn't see.
Your anger, hardened like a winter chill
Had bruised our childhood days and left us flawed,
We who had wondered why and wonder still
The coldness of your touch that never thawed.
I who was half-afraid to reappear
To look you in the eye and stare you down,
See nothing but an old and haggard dear,
A face that hides behind a frightened frown.
And looking at your face which run with tears
See nothing but your guilt and all you fears.








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Stringed Mandolin

The land calls my name, deep inside the bowels Working the strips of fabric that installs Patience builds up where wind blows beyond time Lips tell stories but won’t work in the rhyme Severed is the black hair off her white skin Opened her heart, the day’s cool air within Leaves tumble and shake away from the trees Clouds play their music with delicate ease Liquefy my eyes, gone through broken glass Sifting through the polished sand I won’t pass First score comes in, playing my eyes digress Lowered below feelings of some sundress By love I sit with a stringed mandolin And life strokes a chord of dandelion
Contest: Any Subject, Any Form - New Poems Sponsor: Charlotte Puddifoot 11/12/2013


Details | Sonnet | |

A Web of Lies


Your cloying tales of days gone by,
memories of sugar crystals.
Saccharide words of poisoned lies
shot me point blank from your pistol.

You spin a web of golden beams,
flashing starlight, a laughing face.
With secrets shared and rainbow dreams,
you weave deceit in threads of lace.

Dark clouds of broken promises
cast in the shadows of your smile.
Forgotten deeds and air kisses,
forgiveness tainted with denial.

In time, I know I'll come to forgive.
Though, I only have one heart to give.



Details | Sonnet | |

Sea Shell

To find myself hollow in the sea
And float endlessly in its currents strong
Swept up and down in the vastness I see
Lost in the ebb and flow while dragged along
To land on shore, be broken asunder
Another hard speck in a sea of sand
Beneath the sky with colors, I wonder
If I would be saved by a passing hand
Tossed and tumbled under each coming wave
I sense the ending of my days are clear
A wish, that silent eyes may find and save
A gentle grip from a child's hand so near

I find that I am now able to tell
The story, when a child's hand saved this shell


contest ..Leaf,Feather, Shell or Flake

8/3/14


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KLARA HITLER - HIS MOTHER'S EYES

...KLARA HITLER - HIS MOTHER'S EYES
Does not the glow of Heaven call to mind
The tears of ev'ry mother in her plight?
Such beauty was the love he'd never find,
Perhaps to lead him on, through wrong or right.

And so, this Alter Boy, who loved to sing,
Swelled up her heart, and made her blue of eyes,
Much brighter than her chosen love could bring,
To guide her Alter Boy through truth or lies.

Always he'd feel his mother's tender glow.
Perhaps to make the wrong seem not so bad, 
And if she wept alone, he'd never know,
Because his mother's love is all he had.

And all the pain of knowing, truth, it dies,
changed not the color  of his Mother's eyes.
        © Ron Wilson 2012


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To the lucky quill-feathered poets of pre-MAC-PC yore

 
When I think of all the seconds I drubbed my fingers

On the skin of long-drummed typefaces to wipe spam

Away from the screen of my inboxes in my computers

I wonder how many years of my life drift as flotsam

So many sales pitches tail in mouth in epizeuses

String their tuneless spiralling from end to no-end

Swim in the swirling soup strings of multiverse oases

Lost as jetsam into a blacksucked bottomless oven  

A spam is a foe who seeks to con you as an old friend

Sure don’t mean that old spiv driveling over your girl

But who’ll make you think you’re good for a lend

While he seeks to worm your hard disc in a whirl

McPeesee McCoffee McMoney or McMaster Kasparov

Spam is the Checkmate King none of us can fend off 

 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, from the Collection “Poems Omega Plus”, 2005.


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The Line Between

O God, the pangs are crushing body, soul
And spirit—working deaths where sunlight fades— 
My arms are trunks of pain and taking toll, 
While tortures, stings, and sickness hauntly raids
To close the Gates of Hell to shut me in,
And heaven bows to greet while Hades seeks
To send The Reaper with his failing grin.
And illness ruins lives while havoc wreaks
The squalored throes of daily living on—
While body wastes away and breath remains
To sing your dirge while I still carry on…
Like trampling cattle trodding broken frame,
I live between the sunshine and the grave—
Like flowers cut and dying in the vase


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It Has Always Been

In the never ending cycle of life we turn around,
fading into darkness where there is no sight or sound
and back again to brightness that stirs up all our senses
love and pain fall down like rain and so we build our fences
to keep out all the bad things, but then again the good
get shut outside from where we hide in our lonely neighborhood.

Worse it gets until the pressure blows a hole right through it
and instead of stepping in the sun we rise and just redo it
trying hard to fool ourselves the past we can erase
spending time with beer and lime and thoughts we cannot face.
On and on we go until the storm grows once again
we try to fight with all our might, believing we can win.

Struggling hard against the tide like fish caught in a creel
pretending there is nothing to emotions that we feel.
We end up giving credit to the powers up or down
we're making love while up above the angels watch us drown.
All along the answer is a small but potent spark
that shadowed people use to find the light within the dark.

Hope is fleeting, fading into shades of black and grey,
yet something deep inside of us is beckoning to stay.
Faith's a long lost talent hidden in a silver cloud
we here the thunder and we wonder, should we speak out loud?
Come to me and follow was what a wise man said
It seems to me that what I see is something else instead.


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Christmas Mass

      CHRISTMAS MASS
Dear holy child, I celebrate your birth,
and wonder at the bright and shining star,
that leads to all the joy and peace on earth
we all look for, and it is where you are.

Yes I will light a candle in your name
on Christmas morning, when I'm all alone,
and say a prayer into the burning flame
to thank you for the gift too few have known.

You are my bright and shining star, you know,
throughout my life, in everything I do,
The gift of love is all I have,and so,
I wrap my love in candlelight for you,
Amen...
       ©  ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa


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walking down the coin

the coin is golden, 
the coin is rich
the coin is plentiful
the coin's a bi+ch*

the coin will entice you
the master will command you
the quiet roar will lull you
while golden coin covers over you

let it be a warning my son
a dire warning from grieving fathers
don't stand upon that golden coin
and drown in it like your brothers

no one ever wishes to behold a man's face
who lost his sweet boy to the golden coin's embrace

© Goode Guy 2013-03-28

http://apps.npr.org/buried-in-grain/
http://www.npr.org/2013/03/24/174828849/fines-slashed-in-grain-bin-entrapment-deaths
http://www.npr.org/2013/03/24/174661389/documents-investigating-a-grain-bin-accident

*apparently there's a difference of what constitutes a curse word.


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Love's Dark Curse

Beneath the holy sun and heaven's light,
Angelic standing here before my eyes;
Of hope and beauty free before my sight;
A sign of life and joy descends from skies.
With anxious heart I pray for you tonight,
That still from in these gems such glimmers shine;
This crystal glow alive and shining bright,
Though such it is that this might not be mine.
Above my head is always falling rain;
Suppress the starlight gleaming from within,
And when it ends I cannot start again
Those pearly orbs to wash away my sins.
If you knew of this curse then you would see,
Within the thrall of love I am not free.


Details | Sonnet | |

Beneath Rough Hands-An English Sonnet

Distain, dripping now, from lying forked tongue
Transcending eyes upon shattered back door
Your poisonous breath has filled your black lung
My skin, silky beneath rough hands, has tore

I beg, freedom from bleak endless suffering
How your hands fit perfectly ‘round my neck
My mere flesh no longer is buffering
Your dark, hysterical, heated mad trek

My soul never was yours for the taking
A thought that has never crossed your small mind
I soon shall be dead, my heart now aching
Exposed, now I see that true love was blind

In my passion I had learned to forgive
In my folly he took my choice to live


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Sorrow: A Sonnet

When with sorrow thy heart doth consume
and the world to thee is joyless hell,
forget thy suffering and thy gloom
and in happy mem'ries seek to dwell.
When heaven's sweet rays cease to shine
and thy heart weeps its bitter fate
and in thy sorrow, thou seeks to find
comfort, in a worthy mate
But when none are there to wipe thy tears,
or hold thee in affection's embrace
let not despair blight thy tender years,
and keep the smile upon thy anguish'd face!
Remember, death would upon thy wounds add
sorrow upon sorrow, no ending as sad!


Details | Sonnet | |

Only The Strong Will Survive

       ONLY THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE
God gives not peace, it's only dreamt by man,
in all the world ,brought from catastrophe,
all things are made, since time was first began
by things upheaved so new life comes to be.

The weak must fail, be eaten by the strong,
and losers die the death along the way,
so new life grows, even if it is wrong,
there is no time the poor will have to play.

The lion who will lay down with the lamb,
will have a feast before the day is done,
and all the world will never give a damn,
nor care about the giants and their fun.

        The hunter takes his aim and fells the dove
          the weak in life are only dreaming of.


Details | Sonnet | |

Got Gas

The tank's getting low
The needle's on 'E'
And I already owe
A gold mine to BP.

So I look at the prices
Anything under four bucks?
I'll be eating beans and rices
Because this gas guzzler sucks...

...My account dry and flaccid.
On the verge of poverty.
I'll need an antacid 
'Cuz this gas is killing me.


I used to fill my tank with a fist full of ones
But now I have a choice between crying or writing puns.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Alchemist

The Alchemist 
Howling moon shining bright in the clearing
Torch marked quarters cast a circle searing
Sinning sirens ringing the barrier
Seven brides of phantoms shall carry her

Choking incense, black clouds shroud the altar
Thunderous words shake! the pillars falter
Grinding dry herbs for these enchanting spells
Blessing all saints, while damning them to hells

Gloves marred with white chalk and cigarette burns
With a wave of the staff, the cauldron churns
Ashes to ashes to diamond crust
Body revives from the smoldering dust

Bloodcurdling shriek, succumbed like the others
Again failed resurrecting their mothers


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The Feeling Love Does Leave

               The Feeling Love Does Leave
The feeling love does leave, when love has gone;
   an empty soul, that wanders here and there;
in search of reason to keep going on,
   but finding not a reason anywhere.

The feeling love does leave, when love has died;
   a vacant heart, that always seems to feel
the emptiness that love has left inside,
   and beating on, as if it isn't real.

The feeling love does leave, when love's no more;
   a troubled mind, that journeys on alone,
an empty life, that doubts what love is for;
   a battered heart that's turned as hard as stone.

      The feeling love does leave, is wonder why;
      The feeling love does leave, is but to die.


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Cold Nights In Paris

COLD NIGHTS IN PARIS ( Monsieur L'vampyre)
There's never been another dark on earth
quite like the dark of Paris under snow,
where love, it comes and goes, for what it's worth,
and no demands are made, when time to go.

Where lovers slip into the hiding night,
oblivious to cold or freezing rain,
anticipating love, that surely might
warm up their lives for just a night, again.

And love's a little warmer, from the cold;
it makes two hearts to join and keep a beat;
and warms the lives of both the young and old,
who find their love with-in their body heat.

Though easy comes the love--they hold it dear,
without it cold is something they would fear.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


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SAVAGE

.................SAVAGE.
Negotiating's not part of our fame,
But bringing Death, and this we always will,
As certain as we have, throughout our game
Of Hide and Seek, and eager for the kill.

The crashing in of door, always our way,
Make no mistake, only the dead will know
What never comes to light of night or day,
Remaining part of where the dead will go.

Our aim is for the kill, destruction of
All things within the sight of this, the dare.
To anyone brought on by those in love,
Though innocent, we leave them dying there.

Don't look for understanding in our eyes
And we've no time for hearing truth or lies.
...............© ron wilson


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Silver Lining

Silk scarved words; silver lined apocalypse-
   A distant stars regret will not ever
Surmount rash amounts of emotion, this
   Disgusting leak of Heart, preyed on. Never
To match sunstroked day breaking; wint'ry
   Fragments protrude strangely from corpse smiles
Which speak speak drifting incantations with me,
   A deaf mute, caged by the shine of your eyes.
Traversing a circle of little Death,
   A cycle of red and blues: cardiac
Arrest of the sweetest sortings; now to mesh
   Touch with sultry glances that counteract 
Vocal chords on the offensive. Nothing
Beyond other's whispers, not worth hearing. 



"Silver Lining"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith

(Disclaimer: I could not find a correct, per-se, form to put this under. The rhyme scheme and syllable counting match Shakespearean Sonnets, but I would consider this more of a  'Free Verse' Sonnet. As there was no proper category for me to submit this under, and I do not want readers to believe I am submitting wrong or falsely promoting my work.)


Details | Sonnet | |

Inner strength empowers

Inner strength empowers

Depressed and devastated life,
Heartbroken, living in deep dark,
Once an ardent lover, now a wife,
Electrifying, has now lost her spark,

Little did she know of his intentions,
Unless summons from court arrived,
Came true all the vivid apprehensions,
Her faith came crashing, lay deprived,

A never thought of life, without him,
Now struggling to untie the knots,
Mental agony had reached its brim,
A firm stand, enough to undo plots,

Awakening of inner strength was all that she had to do,
So strong and confident she would emerge, he had the least clue!


Written on 22/7/14
Contest- Strength empowers 
Sponsor- Verlena S Walker


Details | Sonnet | |

BELTAINE AT SUNRISE

 BELTAINE AT SUNRISE
If I could gather for you, flowers fair,
the first of summer, slip them in your hair,
to light your face, the tremble of your smile,
how much in love I'd be at what is there.

If I could welcome May in all her bliss,
the window into summer's melting kiss,
I'd know the greatest joy, though for a while,
and die among the gods, for only this.

If I could open summer, and her pain,
each ray of sunlight fair, each drop of rain,
each courting dove, each flit of butterflies
each welcoming of death, that ends all pain.

If I could capture Beltaine at sunrise,
'twould shine much like the light there in your eyes...
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa
.BELTAINE
Si podría recolectar para usted, florece favorablemente, el primer
del verano, los deslizan en su pelo, para encenderse la cara, el
temblor de su sonrisa, cuánto en amor sería en cuál hay.

Si podría dar la bienvenida a mayo en toda su dicha, la ventana en el
beso que derrite del verano, sabría la alegría más grande, aunque
por un rato, y el dado entre los dioses, para solamente esto.

Si podría abrir verano, y su dolor, cada rayo de la feria de la luz
del sol, cada gota de la lluvia, cada paloma que corteja, cada
revoloteo de mariposas el cada dar la bienvenida de la muerte, que
termina todo el dolor.

Si podría capturar Beltaine en la salida del sol, ' brillo del twould
como la luz allí en sus ojos. 


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To Break the Witch's Spell

   TO BREAK THE WITCH'S SPELL
Suffer you not the bidding of a witch
does not she call from out of dark and death
to put in you, from head to toe, her pitch
as pain you feel, unto your final breath?

To break the spell, one time be all alone,
shut in your closet door and close it tight,
denounce her spirit, make her logic known,
to be her dying day, and final flight.

Then pray she knows, as certain as she dies
in agony, for every sin she's done,
her death will be, from whence she never flies,
and  pays the price for what was once her fun.

One death she'll die, but through eternity
Unless her spell is cast away from thee.
 
Die *****!
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


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The Coming and the Going

    THE COMING AND THE GOING
By birth and death, the only things you know,
each one a sting, felt almost not a bit,
though circumstance, as through your time you go
would lead you to believe life's all of it.

You'll not recall the ways you were before
nor geometrics forming what you've been,
and what's to be is what time has in store,
that's never known until it can be seen.

There's not a kiss that lasts eternally
no matter how the moment makes you feel,
from lovers or Grandmothers, each will be
layed to the past, where nothing's ever real.

And every love shall end, as will each pain,
not ever to be felt in life again.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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The Foil

A weakness wound its wicked way inside
where thoughts of “us”, not love, do dwell and swell,
and formed a nest of twigs to stay the tide
yet cresting waves of righteousness rebelled.

“Stray not,” he said " for look on how I writhe."
Of fire formed made thane to only He.
Yet, man, of mud and clay did breach my pride
for Love of Thee, caste out the likes of me.

Now, Lucifer’s red flame so bright, burns night,
a warning scent to frailer souls, “Don’t fall.”
For even stars misstep, disgrace, pride’s plight,                                           
let his torment be your clarion call.

In light, act right, rise high in good spirit
and say “God, the devil made me do it.”



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Cornish Sonnet

Journey's end evades, ever evading
Pleasures trampled upon, beached, down wind
Though hopeful, lone strangers keep rescinding
Flights of wanton fancy bedazzle me
Hard facts in consequences I have binned
Though in searching no-one seems to agree

Overland territories in spatial climes
Amalgamate in their entirety
Fingers filter currency, cents and dimes
Cast off to foreign shores, I would be bound
Oh to be wealthy wise, accrue plenty
Feted, lauded, plaudits crowned

Journey's end evades, ever evading
Overland territories in spatial climes


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Secrets Of The Spider's Web

   SECRETS OF THE SPIDER'S WEB
The spice of life, a nectar to the heart
if one can find it, all the juices flow,
thorought all time, man's made this dream a part
of ev'ry way he wants his life to go!

With rings and potions, camels hair or eye,
and just a trace of kale that's come to rot
it cannot fail to bring the wanted high
for all who sip to gain all life has got!

The secrets of all time are just the chase
as sweet as honey to a baby's milk 
un-recognized when one is face to face
and bound as tight as any spider's silk!

Confusion plagues the minds who never see
how sweet the spice of life can come to be!
© ron wilson aka veebdosa the doylestown poet


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meditation

Suspending all my judgment now, I seek my breath
for weightless inhalation has become a fight
and to exhale, release, I fear will bring the death
of fortitude and all my demons reunite.
With failures both of logic and of circumstance
extinguishing the flames of hope within my soul,
I hasten now to try to halt the swift advance
of darkness and reclaim the faith my weakness stole.
I can find no more clarity in every day
without the freedom from the haunting of the past
where truth and virtue vanished in the disarray
of the uncertainty and bitterness amassed.

I breathe in love yet seek the distance from its will
to answer this, and pray the mind at last be still.


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Loss of Love

Too long have I been locked inside my mind;
Into my ponderations, ever bleak.
This great divide; I always seem to find
A week a year and every day a week.
I see you in my mind each day and night
But ever as a shadow; slowly turns
To smoke and then from smoke into the light;
And light into the shadow slowly burns.
It saddens me when I cannot recall
That blissful sparkle; glimmers from your eyes.
I lose myself; I stumble and I fall
Beyond despair. But who shall hear my cries?
No more; I must break free from in this cell
And live a life so free with you as well.


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Seasoned

We boomers, as our generation’s called,
have lived through two seasons, considered great,
during which our values were overhauled --
The Summer of Love and Autumn of Hate.
Both brought us together and gave us hope.
In the face of injustice, both were staged --
the first, a celebration with free dope,
the other a tragedy that enraged.
We were innocent in ‘Sixty-Seven;
we saw world violence and were appalled.
Our attitudes changed by Nine-Eleven;
we sought revenge, though we were shocked and galled.
While Winter of War passes, may we find
The Spring of Renewal and peace of mind.


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YOUR FAIR WEATHER FRIEND

     YOUR FAIR WEATHER FRIEND
Together we should sail uncharted sea
so if our ship is dashed on rocky slate,
we have no fear, but know that one of we
remains afloat, to save us from our fate!

And I would have you tredging at my side
if where I go is dark, through jungles deep,
so I'll be confident, although implied,
and not to worry much, when I should sleep;

But when I'm home, my fond and greatest need
is just to not be bothered by your kind
if you are diff'rent than what's from my seed,
then I'd not have you there, for me to find.

So if my sails are set where charts have shown
you sail your way, and I will sail my own!


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Monsters Everywhere

Monsters everywhere 



As hunger sat in one corner,
and the content with a gin,
Nothing from latter or former,
extra meals were thrown in a bin,

Children abused with labour,
education was being deprived,
While peers enjoyed the savour,
to live their present they thrived,

All festivities were mere stories,
better heard, than could they live,
Sleepless nights, abundant worries,
If joys, could they ever perceive ?

Monsters of hunger, illiteracy and poverty,
are eating up love, kindness and humanity !



Written October 11th, 2014
For contest 'Monsters or marvels' by Debbie Guzzi






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Valentines Wishes On Dresden

    Valentines Wishes On Dresden
Awakened before sleep had settled in
she peered out to the night of Dresden's way
and though her hero had no war to win
she blew a kiss to him, as if to say

"mein Fuhrer, this, your Fraulein dreams of you
and vishes you could feel this love of mine
I've done most everything a girl could do
but foolish, hope to be your valentine."

And then the bombs fell from a troubled sky
as if mere kisses from the Butcher's lips
before she'd even ask her Heaven why
her world was blown apart by groaning ships;

    the understanding of it all is rare
     in part because the world just doesn't care.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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Sonnet 15

As technology has progressed , bound leaps ,
within the nanny state , Man simply sleeps .
Replaced Automatic ; Manual Labour.
Solved by Machine mind's , Binary No more .
For synthetic constructs for your whim , creeps
pumping cheese-its into bulging wheeze heaps.

So keep That lard thru blood , spotless , can ignore
such irritations as ; Clearing the floor .

While Digital duty serves ; watch those beeps 
streaming 24/7 fiction keeps
sake in sight , forms pixel ; away those flaws 
by Avatar's dream , away life's true claws.

While around , leashed , the world quietly leaps ,
Attended by metal hands ; Left
	Man Sleeps....


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The actor Vanquished

Darting up and down, left and right
Over my little being
With fright you easily show your might
Have I ever sought your meaning?

Have you ever stopped and wondered?
Torrid pendulum striking, yet unheard,
Of what use is that behaviour?
Of losing your utmost valor!

Even if your shield is your armor
And your weapon lies in being an actor!
Vincible you are and easily exhausted,
A mere puppet, completely roasted

Though your darting  intention may be to hurt or blemish
You forget, you form part of those whom my bliss did  abolish!


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APPLE PIE

    APPLE PIE
The morning light, that's blinding to the sight,
breaks through the clouds into the forest deep,
and wakens life from out of darkened night,
into the dawn of one more date to keep.

While life, the puzzle, opens to the dawn,
and makes a challenge of their daily bread,
my wonder is if they're depending on
the grace of God, or on mere chance, instead.

This raises thanks from my observing heart,
that we've the fare to set our table right,
and make a feast of what is just a part
of bounty that's come from our nations might.

       And from belief that Jesus is the way,
          the light and truth that leads the U.S.A.


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Arterial Bite

ARTERIAL BITE ---- MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE 
 Has not my love been welcomed in delight
 when no one else could woo the heart of thee,
 so what recourse has moved you to this night
 of holding back the love you promised me?

 No mere bloodsucking's what I have in mind
 but like the finest wine--appreciate
 what love has layed right at your feet to find,
 enjoy-- or when you cum, you'll cum too late.

 No jugular has put out all this much
 to princes of the dark, forget their claim!
 now I place no demands on you as such;
 to choose my love, you've but to say my name.

 So lay you down, and bare for me tonight 
 the place where you would feel orgasm's bite.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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RETURN TO HELL - Monsieur L'Vampyre

 MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE Return To Hell
Tonight love flies from where love never seems
to occupy, it comes from time somewhere,
and long ago, from emptiness of dreams
you've long forgot, but they are steaming there

deep in the night, from where I've spread my wings
and fly into your life in need of me
but be aware, sometimes my love it stings
upon your neck but sets your spirit free;

and then we fly through all of time and space
into the mist that's lifting cool and blue
back to the forests long burned by the race
straight to the heart of love that bothers you;

and you will love me like you've loved before
when you were someone else demanding more.

Take wing my love! There's naught your heart should fear
It's just like deja vu or times gone by
look deep into your death--love will appear
your love will never let your spirit die

and all are just as undead as I've been,
the only difference is you you come and go,
while dying as you have I've never seen
nor had the peace of mind the dead all know.

but love is constant in my life and heart
demanding blood be pumping through my vein
and when you feel my bite you'll be a part
of everything I've ever been, again.

Yes you have lived before and loved too well
and that's the price you pay to live in Hell.


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Stuck

Stuck in this place.
Such a disgrace.
Forget the promises that you made.
Stay here any longer and you'll be played.
Need to escape and run away.
Come back on a better day.
Need to be rescued,
Before you get screwed.
Hurry up and find a ride!
Run from this place and hide!
Full of lies and full of hate!
Leaving at a slower rate.
Won't ever get out...You're trapped forever.
You'd be gone by now, if you were clever.


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SECOND HOLOCAUST

            SECOND HOLOCAUST
We hear them now, the beating bass of drum,
the marchers, though loose-knit, from Wall Street's rolls,
too soon will turn to cadence; those who come,
all have no memory of Hitler's goals.

Their good intentions caved in, to survive,
to placing blame to where it shouldn't go!
And all too soon, the buzzing of the hive
lays every blame to things we shouldn't know.

Though mournful is the tune that plays along
to every drumbeat, calling for return
of nights of death--the old recall the song,
but much too late recall how bodies burn.

And Stars of David are replaced on every wall,
by Swastikas demanding rights for all.
Scary.


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CONDEMNED DISCIPLES

We strive to live as though we’re in heaven –
a state of continuous joy and bliss –
complaining about news at eleven
that tells us about things that are amiss.
We don’t concern ourselves with others’ plights,
except through seasonal contribution.
We don’t want to be troubled by their fights;
we’ll wring our hands only in ablution.
And even the causes that we support
We back by giving our voice to a blog
or following, like a favorite sport,
convictions of our chosen demagogue.
Nothing on Earth can change the opinions
we hold onto like contented minions.


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I Love You, Death

           I LOVE YOU, DEATH
I love you death, and welcome all you're not;
no love, no hate, no failing and no gain,
no fighting for the things we haven't got
nor wondering about our latest pain.

Your mercy is a thing I surely bless
anticipating you, my only friend,
who brings conclusion to all wretchedness
the only one who knows us in the end.

So come you now as I help you along
you know you've tried to get me in the past
but now I know your timing is not wrong
and so I live and breath for you at last.

Your nothingness is what I hunger for
and in your end, I pray there's nothing more.
© ron wilson


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THE CYBERLOVE

........THE CYBERLOVE
Through time and space, you've come and found me here,
at first I guessed that you were only dreams,
that come and go, so far away, yet near,
and in a time where nothings as it seems.

Too much of you fell on me from the start,
from out of night, where winds of love are blown,
deep in another time, as if a part,
of all I've ever been and ever known.

Deep in a candle flame, that burning sight,
I feel you near, across the universe,
and touch your love, bounced from a satellite,
and make of you my blessing and my curse.

No matter--you've become my love again,
from out of cyberspace, where you have been.
..............© ron wilson


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The fortunes of us all

No words of mine can potently display
the anguish and the joy that touch our lives;
yet all our ghostly forebears went this way
where words may pierce our hearts like sharpened knives.

No sentient being willingly at first
Accepts the pain that true perception brings.
Yet we must not take hearts to be a curse;
we need not flee from knowledge,though it stings.

Each day demands our thoughtfulness and love
from which all better action justly comes
each day the grace we have is just enough
as through the meta narratives we roam

For life' s but a true story we invent,
with passion and with purified intent


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The Earth Child

I’m back from the aborted time
Where mother earth’s womb foiled me an innocent prime
A crime precipitated with tears of revenge on my carefree mondaine,
Again I’ve come, ushered by thunderstorms and hurricanes
 
Descending with spleen of capitulating rage from above                                     
Where I had seek castrated-justice from people who know not love,
My angered tears are tattooed. Henceforth, ye’d find my sweets bitter.
Imperiled and mutilated on surgeon’s blade, my spirit groans and quiver, while hers glitters
 
Her joy of motherhood quakes with the sound of my blub at the doomy sands
When sweats of sorrows and heavy downpour ferries me to the midlands;
Oh my arrival, she’d be filled with a painful smile, a tragedy of happiness!
She’d wish she never pulled that plug out of coyness.
 
Again, heaven dims its light as one of its kind depart
Downwards. I’m the earth child, the wailing nipper with no heart!   




My own version of 'Abiku' written by J. P. Clark


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Proud Parrot

Proud Parrot

He’s such a cocky little bird
Head held high, and chest puffed out
He struts around, my heart is stirred
There’s a kind of silence all about.

He’s green, and blue, and beautiful
Yellow ring around his throat
He don’t care that the weather’s cool
He has a lovely sheeny coat.

A crested pigeon comes to feed
But he’s not there for long
Our Parrot, he gets wild, indeed
His will so very strong

His hunger staved he sits in tree
And whistles softly just for me.

13 July 2014 @ 0336hrs.


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Nine Inch Nails, Brain Pain

Nine Inch Nails, Brain Pain

I stopped waiting on any earthy fruit
 empty guns that sing but do not shoot
Nine inch nails driven into my brain
 snails crawling in bloody, bloody rain

I stopped asking for your sweetened lies
 sickness baked into little hollow pies
Cuts embraced to feel the sweetest pain
 stick it in but make it so very plain

I stopped begging for more misery
 from you laughing at my mercy plea
Seven inch blades twisted in to bleed
 answers given to a most futile plea

I stopped begging so very damn long ago
You that lie to feed your deceitful show


R.J. Lindley
02, 19, 1977


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Balkan Refugees

      BALKAN REFUGEES
The smoke and guts come rolling through the hills
obnoxious to the senses, life of death;
exonerated from all debt and bills
we stand, and try to find a second breath.

All debits--liabilities are gone
all burned to ashes drifting to the sky,
and we can't stop, we must be moving on
or we've been told, our time is now to die.

A baby breaths a bleak and wordless plea
not understanding we are all to blame,
for roads we take, and bombing we can see
and life to come will never be the same.

There's war and peace, and both are every day,
and we still walk to find a place to stay.


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Burning Bridges

Determining which bridges to burn
As I stand tall, after the tables have turned
Thoughts fall, and burn fires through the floor
Igniting loose ends to the ties that you tore
No more smiles to be forced, I abhor
Stares, as you watch me trip through wrong doors
Longing for answers to mistakes that were born
Sought through the battles, watching faults go to war
Casualties bore, buried without any mourn
Move forward, and see my flames grow warmer
And I step closer now, narrowing the border
Feel the fever, the fury, the scorching inferno
Harbor the horror, and realize, now your cornered
Left with the look in my eyes, as I combust the disorder.


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Memento Mori

Long hair, beautiful and dark like a starless night sky,
perfectly matching her personality.
A face as intoxicating as an empty bottle of rye
with eyes that glare dogmatically.
Her body is an hourglass
and my time is running out.
Composure I must amass
for these feelings I know little about.
She is a book filled with an unknown story
written in the blood ink of her past lovers --
my very own memento mori,
which if ignored will put me under the covers.
Covers from which I will not rise,
stuck beneath her sheet of lies.


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BIG MOUTH BASS

      Big-Mouth Bass
An April morning, as the climbing sun
tipped up in sight, and lit the coming day
and colored red, after a storm was done,
I cast my plug, a stinger--red and gray

to where it looked the likely place to me,
where hides the hog--from minnows swimming by;
then feeds upon those minnows, carelessly,
as pops the sun into the morning sky.

Upon the water, mirrored flat and still,
I raise the wake, so slight--then let it lay;
and cranking in, so slowly then until
I hear the chomp--that warns he's set to play!

   And all the minnows cheer me in my quest
   of battle with my most unwilling guest!
© ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa)


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A taste of karma

A taste of Karma

I saw, did I, a deer today
On a picture on the net
And what I saw I rather liked
It gave me no regret

A man with rifle in his hand
He lay beneath the deer
He’d been out hunting just for joy
But his face was filled with fear

It seemed to me like karma
That this man was lying there
The deer had got the upper hand
My heart was with the deer

I pity not those who destroy
God’s wild creatures, just for joy.

3 July 2014 @ 1000hrs



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Nightmares

I wake up screaming, sometimes crying.
I simply can't tell which side is lying.
Is it me, or is it my brain? 
I can't deal with much more because it drives me insane.
I see visions of horrible, gruesome things.
Like people who've been chopped to bits, and little dead kids that sing.
I can hear the music playing and it scares me to death.
I try to run away, but I get sicker with every breath.
I see people I love and others that I've never seen before.
If I ever see those strangers when I'm awake, I'll freak out, I'm sure.
Why do I have these nightmares each and every time I sleep?
Have I not cried enough tears for people I'll never meet?
I'll never understand it, but I guess I'll have to deal.
It only gets to me this bad because it all seems so real.




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BAD LOVE

      BAD LOVE
I've loved you all this time; an empty bag;
as scorched as summer heat and cold as snow.
Life clings to me and gets to be a drag
and nothing's worth the time it takes to know.

Continueing to drift all through my mind,
the thought of you it comes--but never goes,
and out of sight is never hard to find,
when there is love, if love it never grows.

I want the touch of you more than life's spark,
but time between us is too much to bear,
love incomplete, has left its bitter mark
here in my cold, and left me dying there.

   I want to know that love is more than dreams
    but somehow it's as bad as how it seems.
© Ron Wilson (aka Vee Bdosa)


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THE RESTING

         THE RESTING
Our death of soul steals slowly through the years
the fog of mind that's never known to be;
brought on by laughter, love, and hate and tears
the fate of all no one can ever see.

It brings the withering of life, and all its leaves,
once green and shining in the morning sun,
now setting on it all, in evening grieves
for lack of interest in what life has done.

Compassion leaves the mind, once fired and prime
and old and tired now beats the heart we knew
life now mundaned by passing of all time,
there's little left the heart would like to do.

     Old one, you're numbered to your final breath.
      Your rest is not until it's done in death.


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Last Supper – A Winter Sonnet

I spit the words you made me eat, and then
they land on you as there you stand aghast –
You cringe and stare at what you said; thick phlegm
bedecks your face, a white-hot, slimy blast.

They left a taste, a bitter paste of hate
and painful anger. Tongue to teeth, I fled
the room and slapped the twisted hands of fate
from off my neck as choking life-breath bled.

I tripped, you screamed and tried to grab me back –
Too late for that, and now we fall apart.
The precipice is yawning, grim, deep black
and down I plunge, my ending and my start.

The forge of stellar flame blows hot, then cold
as melting, sculpted frozen wings unfold


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To a Lost Friend

My friend, why have you left me all behind
And all alone? I thought that you and I
Could be forever one but now my mind
Is searching for an explanation why.
The times that could have been; are they to be
Forgotten? Have you really gone away
With no intent to ever come back to me?
Or are you simply running, now, astray?
I want to tell you something; tell you why
This, here, afflicts me and won't go away…
But now the poet's hand is running dry;
My words will fail and I will only say:
I do not know what happened to cause this flight
But only when you return shall I be alright.


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The Resting

         THE RESTING
The death of soul steals slowly through the years
the fog of mind that's never known to be;
brought on by laughter, love, and hate and tears
the fate of all not one can ever see.

It brings the withering of life, and all its leaves,
once green and shining in the morning sun,
now setting on it all, in evening grieves
for lack of interest in what life has done.

Compassion leaves the mind, once fired and prime
and old and tired now beats the heart we knew
life now mundaned by passing of all time,
there's little left the heart would like to do.

    Our works are numbered to our final breath
      and rest is not until it's done in death.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the doylestown poet


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the Astronaut

        THE ASTRONAUT
As certain as I see the world below
some things I'd overlooked, within my haste
come to my mind, and in it now, I know
we can't allow what time remains to waste.

 What God's become, because we've let it be,
would change if only you'd see what I do,
spread out below, right here in front of me
a fragile sight--most delicate a view.

To see the whole thing, as it is complete,
the total world, big pictures only show,
is recognizing what's beneath our feet
was made by One who knows more than we know.  

 My question's not to ponder as to how
   God made the world--but how to save it now.


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Lunar Love

         LUNAR LOVE
You steal the light when there is none to see
when there is nothing left, you take it all,
and what is left is just the shell of me
all mesmerized and backed against the wall;

you are the moon behind the branches bare
I watch you move so slow and lovingly
until you leave the trees behind and there
I see the shadow of your smile for me.

Where man has walked on dust of lovers dreams
you bathe in sunilght of another day
in other times when nothing's as it seems,
and speak to me in words you never say.

The world is yours, you give it all to me
to wonder at, but not to ever be.


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all that came before

In being caught, and in between
the life we knew and one we crave,
submitting to a force unseen
and paths upon a heart engraved
with silences and moments passed
in certainty or wistfulness,
with grievances withdrawn, amassed,
by roadside left to reminisce.
Align with the immortal ache,
embrace the victor's solitude:
the healing forces will forsake
and history will be renewed

for only hesitation lies
within eternal compromise.


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Monsieur L'Vampyre BOTH LOVE AND HATE

   Monsieur L'Vampyre - BOTH LOVE AND HATE
Straight through my mind and to my deepest heart,
your whispered words doth keep our love in heat; 
as certain as an ending has a start,
the night's emotion echoes out love's beat.

Though but implied, each time our eyes do meet,
the feeling warm, doth tingle to my spine,
and then love's glow, from head down to my feet,
makes all of life both precious and divine;

and makes of me the suckling, tiny child, 
once innocent, now deep in love's great fire,
breast in the hand, see how it drives me wild,
you surely know, I'd kill in such desire!

       The essence of what life can never know,
        so close at hand, but then, where does it go?      

There is no mercy, death must surely be
as swift and feeling as orgasms fate!
Are both not that which eyes can never see,
and are they not the same, both love and hate?

Your eyes do make my love the mockery,
and something I must have to call my own.
Why would a fool give all so willingly,
for feelings only gods have ever known?

Your flesh--so soft--so vibrant to my taste,
the only aphrodisiac I need
to bring me out from where love's been a waste,
and put it all to you, to quench your greed.

       We lie in silence, deep in loves discrete,
        all sep'rate from the world, but so complete.


Details | Sonnet | |

FOREVER FREE

        FOREVER FREE
I stand before you, judged, a sinner be
relinquishing all rights, I might have had,
but pray thee quick, to judge the soul of me
then lay to rest--the sins that drive me mad.

I seek forgiveness, that's all of my plea,
for all I've been in life, as having fun,
and all the hurt--that's been--because of me
I pray put in the past, as if there's none.

I ask your guidance, on my bended knee
protect my days ahead, if there are some
and never let mine eyes again to see
the lust of life from where all sin has come.

   And Jesus, give me wisdom, now to be
   your servant who's been saved--forever free!
© ron wilson


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THE FALL OF JERUSALEM

 THE FALL OF JERUSALEM
The grace of all He is be with us all,
as surely as the end, the promised love,
comes quickly as a thief, to bring the fall
of what the world's become, and dying of.

Behold how quickly comes, from Alpha's flame;
as naught can end unless it has begun;
the light of one who's called a holy name,
'twill light Jerusalem without the sun.

These words were said--to write--Omega's near.
And all who can will find the narrow way,
as prophesied for all the world to hear,
and then the bride says, come, this is your day.
 

Those hearing then, will come, from near and far,
to David's own, the bright and morning star.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


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THE USERERS

       The Usurers
The stealing from the table has progressed
to be a time when dinner time is light
by monsters in the dark, who've rightly guessed
that people can not tell a wrong from right;

the bouncing of your checks brings on a pain
poor man you have to pay a little more
and now if you are late, there is more gain
for money men to lay into their store;

you have to pay the greedy in this world
they need more than we do to just survive
for stinginess is something that's inborne
so if you're late, it costs you twenty five!

        The congress is so out of touch that they
         will only add to what you have to pay.
© ron wilson


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BATTLE CRY

          BattleCry
So stirs the heart of man, the great delight,
   to raise a banner high, the march of fate;
to lead the way, where only dark of night,
   might find a way to quench the thirst for hate;   
   
and lessor men will follow any call,
   of self appointed leaders of the day, 
the good, the bad, the dead, but butchers all,   
   one crowned in might, the other in decay!

To follow is the way, if wrong or right,
    determined by the one who stands at last,
we hold this  judgement, as if heaven might
    just comprehend the end that binds us fast.

      and when we see it come around once more,
      all wonder is what leads us on to war???
 ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)


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Virgin of Rue St Severin - Monsieur L'Vampyre

     VIRGIN OF RUE ST SEVERIN  Monsieur L'Vampyre
Into my deepest heart of hardest stone
unyielding to what love could ever be
contempt is all there is, for all I've known
so if you come with love, come not to me!

But if your mind is set, and love's a fire
then I could welcome you and quench the flame
for less is love, and more is your desire
and I will lay you down to be the game;

But love! Don't make me laugh and waste the night
I'd babble like a fool before it's done
and better off I'd be to face the light
and face the pain of life in mid-day sun!

And so you must beware the truth of me
before your love consumes what love should be.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown


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Monsieur L'Vampyre - FALLING IN LOVE

      Monsieur L'Vampyre - FALLING IN LOVE
What manner of a being lies in wait
deep in the flashing eyes I look into?
you'd shackle me to love, I estimate,
if I'd give in to what I see in you;

I should not get too close, or I may fall
into a state of mind I wouldn't dare,
not on a bet--or I could lose it all,
and when it's done, I wouldn't even care;

love brings appeasement to the strongest mind
and turns the heart from what it once desired,
then lays to rest, so one can never find,
the dreams of yesterday that youth had fired;

true love can bring us all to heaven's door
forgetting what, in life, we're looking for.


Details | Sonnet | |

Malice

A dance of death, a greedy chore
     Trapped inside these creature comforts;
A chance of life may become a bore
     Outside this pleasantly right hurt.
But, soft and fair, though, of the skin,
     In flesh a silent malice lies
Dormant, unnoticed, not used in
     Context. Still, touch me as day dies.
And you, a ghost I cannot touch
     By reaching out to Heart or mind,
Caught up in this sweetly rush-
     Jaded: Nothing else left to find.
Superfluous and flushed, we breath
In gusts, unable to be free.


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LEAVE THEM BONES ALONE

   LEAVE THEM BONES ALONE
The day we die is peace to what's the soul
to fly into and through the dark of space
We join the love of God-- death is our goal,
into the light of Him and His embrace;

But as we go, one part we leave behind
'tis physical, and what we think's the end;
and buried in the heap, if we've the mind,
or burned and scatterred to the blowing wind!

Them bones that dry won't stand the test of time;
and if there's thought to be a bit of gold;
the search is on, through earthly grist and grime
to dig us up, so that our tale is told!

The curse of time is on the diggers head;
With little thought they make love to the dead.
© ron wilson ©


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HE KNOWS MORE THAN WE

       HE KNOWS MORE THAN WE
In meeting all demands fate throws my way,
I sometimes wonder just what's coming next.
So many complications come each day,
that make my life a little more complexed.

I know God gives me strength to carry on,
whenever I but ask, He's always there.
Just when I think all hope is surely gone,
somehow I always find more hope somewhere

that sees me through the very darkest night,
and opens up my eyes so I might see,
and all I need to make my wrong go right,
is just accepting what He's given me.

        He always gives my life a little more
           of all the things I'm never praying for.
                      © ron wilson


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BROKEN FLOWERS

BROKEN FLOWERS
i.m. Ann, my sister 1947 – 1997)

Heads of fine purple strewn across cement
And yellowness heaped up in an airless room –
Travesties to which your heart’s golden fire-dust
Is an increment on pain.  You asked
If the pretence of caring had now vanished,
Was it real now, under the cracked sky-line,
Like your memories dammed up under the rain.

Surely some vital drops will float
To pull your rootless beauties into holiness
Even as they die in a still vase –
There is no picture to quite stir the heart
As these fallen crowns, noble as the chalice
Of Gethsemane, which yet held the terrifying
Dark secrets of the world’s crime.

As you winter in your youth,
Beheaded flowers your beauty, your truth.

By Rosemarie Rowley


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Something Fierce

I remember how your smooth brow would crease,
When I spoke well-honed words of future Doom,
And, yet, my love would never fail or cease,
Promising I'd thrust Night from your bedroom.
Days we shared in proper stances, on guard,
Proud poses we stood in childish laughter,
And held Truth as united, no mere shard,
We knew better, the rest would come after,
But, I faltered, and my heart became chill,
Sheathed sword turned away from the Enemy;
Make War, make Love, make of it what you will,
Aspired inspiration, fallen with me,
    It's point pushed 'gainst my heart, waiting it's pierce;
    Oh, how I've missed you, missed you something fierce.


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TALKING POINT



Rise to the trends:
Expound new fears:
Touch on sore plans,
Appease dear seers;
Lose, win or draw:
Keep your head high;
Inch nerves made raw,
Niche empty sighs;
Glimpse crystal ball.
Peep at empty;
Opt just to stall,
Impasse you see;
Now with a twist:
Tell without risk!



Leon Enriquez
10 October 2014
Singapore


Details | Sonnet | |

YOUNG LOVE IN AUSCHWITZ

        Young Love In Auschwitz
Not into life too firm, and dying slow
before the years intended for death's claim,
youth wasted by the way she had to go,
she never had the chance to feel love's flame;

nor cast her flashing eyes in teasing's charm
to courting boys, who begged her company,
whom otherwise would keep her safe from harm
and far removed from how life had to be;

though spring was on, the time for love's sweet breath,
in hunger is a pain that stops love cold,
and in love's place the hope for instant death
was all that kept her here, and growing old.

     Somewhere deep in her heart, his probing eyes
      brought feeling her life couldn't recognize.


Details | Sonnet | |

Adultery

I paid no attention to her wedding band.
The whispers in my ear told me to take her hand.
My conscience went ignored inside my head.
All I wanted was to get her in my bed!

My good morals went straight out the window.
I kinda knew Satan was playing me like a nintendo!
Her thick thighs and soft lips had me ready to roll.
Her eyes and curvy hips had me ready to give up my soul!

Pure lust had me commiting a grave sin.
You know without trust, no relationship can win.
I should have known of the devils soul searching appetite!
And yet I didn't care if sleeping with a married woman wasn't right!

So as I indulge, it will eventually destroy her and my family.
It was the devils illusions which makes me commit this adultery!


Written for  Thvia Shetleys contest "The Devil Made Me Do It"


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Transubstantiation

Tortured mind that begets vague foreboding,
nebulous thoughts that twist into despair,
reason into mania eroding,
as grimaced lips mumble a nameless prayer.

Guilt as guillotine slices all reason
as blame pierces the faith that once was true,
voice of accusation cries out “Treason!”
for telling taboo secrets about you.

Dark winds howl as winter’s night surrenders
to vanquished faith obscured in pallid light.
Decanted soul, despondency renders
to shadows writhing past all hope in sight.

Yet morning sun in mercy and good cheer,
emits dawn’s light to chase away all fear.


Details | Sonnet | |

HOURGLASS

.......HOURGLASS
When all the sand's run out for yesterday
and here you stand reflecting on it all,
no matter what you do, or what you say
you'll never change the way time has to fall;

the sand's been piled onto the waiting floor,
announcing time's run out, as you can see,
all hopes and dreams now fade, to be no more,
as if the way it's piled is meant to be;

all Heaven knows you've done the best you could
to shape tomorrow as you'd want today,
but somehow things don't go just as they should
and sands of time don't always fall your way.

The best we'll ever do is turn the stand
and hope again our time goes as we've planned.
.................© ron wilson


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Your Face Behind The Glass

In a dream last night I was in a city under the stars
I was walking down the street and you were driving in your car
You were on your way to somewhere and I was looking for a bar

You hit me as I was walking down the road
I threw my hands down on the hood to lessen the load
Then I saw that it was your face behind the glass
As I maneuvered around the car and passed

You never once looked up or acknowledged me
I could only assume that you never even saw me


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I'm Sorry

Dedicated to my best friend; I'm sorry Laura. May we never have a fallout again... 

--------------------------------------------------------------

My deepest apologies my dearest friend,
I hope we are on the mend.
I never meant the words I said,
And to lose you would render my heart dead.

It was all in pain when anger rose,
And every day my guilt grows.
Sorrow clouds my spirit,
Accusations it whispers, I can hear it.

From shallow dreams and haunting nightmare I wake,
I’m afraid I cannot fix this mistake.
Oh can you forgive me,
Or is our friendship not to be?

My heart lurches for the pain I caused you,
My best friend, to make this right again I’ll do what I have to…


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A beggar's Diary

In deep sigh, a flashback
To experiences observed
Again he sighed in rage
As to the kind of person he be

His face as frowned as folded fries
Like that of a night soil man
His hard harmful hand
Like that of a still standing status

He looked and nearly yelled
At my poor pleading palm
Yet, I saw his overloaded pockets
Along he dragged on

Under the weight of plenty
Under the weight of poverty


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MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - the foggy night

     MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - the foggy night
As dark a night that's hidden Paris streets
from prying eyes, fell on the city cold,
there came I to the setting fog, that greets
the cobble stones layed in the days of old.

With naught to fear from gendarmes in the night,
I wandered through the dark, just searching for
someone who's lost at life and love, and might
be ready for what this night has in store.

And there just walking by the River Seine
face turned into her hands, to hide her tears,
a beauty bound to stop the hearts of men,
in days of youth or getting on in years;

  I knew at once that love was drawing nigh
  so set my path to where she met mine eye.

A welcome sigh from deep within her breast
breathed from her lips and begged my company,
so strolled we through the fog, and made a quest
of finding what was love, what could it be?

And reasoned she, that love was just a game
that men have made the rules and set to stone
and my requital was, that love's a flame
that burns as much as any fire that's known.

So as the fog hid ev'ry thing from sight
we set about to find what love might show
then loved we through the cold Parisienne night
down by the Seine, where only lovers go;

   and when I sank my teeth, I heard her sigh,
   that love must be the only way to die.


Details | Sonnet | |

Disenchanted

I was blinded to the autonomy
   Of the actions committed in the time
Moonfall hesitated, and did not see
   Malice in the eyes that were naught to be mine.
The crescent curves of a smile's sliver;
   Indecision of skin, rancid and smooth;
Plush sentences congeal as I quiver;
   Thoughts so careless, teeth dripping wir'y sooth.
My sight could not pierce nightfall-scathingly
   Battened down were my mind and eyes, depraved
by sour medicine dreams filling me,
   Unwillingly, with satire not staved.
The birr which I painted your portrait with
Disenchanted my world, a cause for death.




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Salem's Sonnet

A runner sent down from the distant hill
To let them know the evil has now flashed
So they now may pray together and mill
The lazy brown lake their witches are dashed 

Fine straw and dried wood piled and set ablaze
The screaming bonnets and flaming red curl
Ashes melt to a fine smoldering haze
Flames a breeze as hanging dresses unfurl

Children and dogs wander the village mead
Women return to stove’s simmering pot
Idol standing mules await men to lead
Diggers shovel in a grass vacant lot 

Christian justice has once again been found
As young innocent girls lye burned and bound 

© Copyrights G. Jones 2007


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MONSIERU L'VAMPYRE - STORMY NIGHT

    MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - STORMY NIGHT
Come go with me into the stormy night
where no one thinks to look for love at all,
but when you see my dark, you know it's right
our total love's about to make its call.

Come lay with me as thunder fills the air
and closes out the past, with all the pain,
then lightning spreads its fingers ev'rywhere
onto the dark--and then--the pouring rain

brings peace to mind, and sooths your crying heart,
as close I come, with searching finger tips
then find the spot--upon your neck--and start
to sink my love through heated, trembling lips.

  I set my teeth to do what I must do--
  to sip your love out from the soul of you.
© ron wilson aka vee  bdosa


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A cold love of a dark lover

burning dimly like a fading candle light
wrapping the hearts of lovers in the dark
surrounding them in total night
that's baron and cold and stark 
none can give merciless nightmares
none except the cold, dank dark
slaying the lovers heart like a blade; 
smeared in Black death 
for no lovers love is left un-dismayed
a cold wind submerges the broken 
heart in a quilt of cold,
and wraps its new love in a 
light so golden and warm,
being slayed by the very death 
that lured it to it's clutches; 
smearing the new blood, 
making the dying one ask, 
"What is this love? i do not know it, what is it?"
not all love is together, 
a lover's love is broken, 
so many pieces, so much pain on both sides.....
one may think that the heartbreaker will 
see his own blood thirsty lie, 
for it kills him as well. 
it leaves him in a dark and lonely hell. 


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Sonnet 6

Now ... tell me the truth at 80 spaces .
Oh yes monthly at no extracted cost ,
trumpet swans announcing "All-New" "Chases"
... Gameshow w-/ only purpose " Just stay lost".
scratch that ... start at the count ... three Faces.
flicker on screen , once more , spider webbed frost.
Pulse of cheekbone ; paper Artic traces ...
Hailing to the Fanatic's RoseArm crossed.

	... Why just imagine , All times // All places ...
Daydream reality clearly embossed 
by Our pristine chords reading "All's Debased" ...
Job to do ... hands join ... Avert as off tossed 
I may stain ... lip gloss ... gulp of life wasted.

All Presents, Our Situation Hostage .


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MY CRYSTAL BALL

  My Crystal Ball
There in I go to deeper depths of me
to levels where no one can ever know
and in the dark where only death can be
a little light fortells where life will go;

it's just a sphere of glass, a crystal ball,
to show the way into eternity
a dome of light, a refuge from it all,
that shakes my soul and lets my mind run free;

and as I gaze into the depth of it
all time's been frozen to the light I see,
and, mesmerized, I drift through space a bit
and free of all below, that I call me.

The beauty I have found within this ball
brings life as certain as it brings my fall.


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THE WORLD: A RING

THE WORLD: A RING

Oh, thou world is a ring
And you oh fate, a boxer
I only a contender
With my milky teeth 

Thou smirked at my ignorance
But now with bread grown
Thou two have given me thou hard’st blows
My fans now fed up

They draw postcards of my waterloo
However, I have fallen
From a blow like Tyson’s
Melting like gold refined

I shall not fail to rise
At least rise to fail


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Sonnet Of Sorrow

When first the world we enter
We must needs be shaped for use.
Attention then does close upon us centre
Wherein we learn our true selves to lose.
Wrapped warmly in strong belief and prejudice
That is the time we learn to love and hate.
We march on blindly to confront and dismiss
Those whom we ridicule and hate.

When close to the end we approach
With clearer insight we can survey our journey.
Then will our hearts be burning with reproach
At the cruel havoc wrought by our cruel army.

Forgiveness must be our ultimate desire
For all our flaws and faults ,ere we expire.


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A Warriors Sonnet

My hero, my heart, in your arms I sigh,
To listen to you breathe, your pure passions heat,
In creamy dreams of sweetness long gone by,
And taste your precious kisses; wild wonder sweet.

To open mine eyes in moons’ silver light
And see your face next to mine in our bed;
I would shower you with love in deep night.
Beautiful warrior; who chose me to wed.

But alas, I lie alone and in tears,
Dreaming of you in my arms through night dark.
For a warrior goes to fight without fear,
Leaving his love pining for his sweet spark.

I will wait forever, in this, my fate.
For you, my hero, my lover, my mate.


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Ahmadinezhad And the Price Of Gas -

       Ahmadinezhad And the Price Of Gas -
          (His Name Pron - Ah - mad - in - eh - zhad)
The politics of Promise you unfold
as we approach election twenty-twelve,
and you can bet there's not a promise told
the President to be won't have to shelve!

Their only problem's just to sway us all
and gather votes that count election day
they all can see the writing on the wall
but no one reads the writing anyway!

Could 40 thieves of Persia sway the vote
if someone plays their cards exactly right?
Ahmadinezhad might be someone to note
as we get closer to election night!

Before election day will ever pass
get set to pay a whole lot more for gas.


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YOUR LOVE

       YOUR LOVE
If all I'd had for you was just one kiss,
...then surely love would not have come our way.
But holding on, and wanting more than this,
...we found a dream had come around to stay.
Now, all I am, is what you've made of me,
...throughout the years in ev'rything we dare;
whatever comes--comes much more easily;
...because I know you're with me ev'rywhere.
And as the finest wine, our love has yet
...to know perfection--I keep this in mind,
as passing time has brought me no regret,
...and old is something I may never find,
...........so long as I've still got one memory,
.............of all the things your love has meant to me.
                   ©  ron wilson


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Death Comes

The time of life has come to halt
for the grim reaper owns my soul.
His timing and acuteness never fault.
To take my life is his goal.
The shortness of a love once known.
The greatness of my internal fear.
While as he enters i sit all alone
and i begin to shed a tear.
My fate with chess betrayed me
through the hourglass i stare
the time has come for me to leave
my body and soul no longer an even pair.
My body still lies where it fell
my soul for eternity will burn in hell.


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Beat Red

I’d like to write poems beat red.
Like the color of my face
when white spit foams the lips.
I’d like an utterly violent embrace.

No pretense, nothing dishonest
about this undoctored rage.
Hold nothing back, let it all go,
tear off clothes, and punch the walls.

I’d like my poems to be suicidal.
Willing to jump off the Golden Gate,
overdose on sleeping pills,
a Black and Decker drill to the skull.

At least then I will have killed
for complete love of the poem.


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BLACK AND WHITE

 BLACK AND WHITE
Much simpler was the world in black and white,
so easy on the mind, as on the eye.
Most ev'rything was wrong, or it was right,
and no one cared so much about the why.

It was a time when one room country schools
turned out the very brightest of the stars,
but somewhere we got lost among the rules,
and left our world for fast and fancy cars.

We made our lives out of new Kolorchromes,
and raised the pace to near the speed of sound,
we burned our bridges when we left our homes,
so now there's not a home left to be found.

I'd love to see your smile in black and white,
not wondering if love is wrong or right.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


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My Heart, 'tis a Caged Bird

Love, what shalt I speak for what thou dost see

Through most offensive blackened iron bars

Where sky is sick and hides away the stars

Because my heart pounds ardently for thee.

My Lord's old mind was poisoned with debris

By vile council to banish thee afar

For if we came and called an infant ours

Their worth would thus be scorned, ruled by part flea.


Thou mustn’t think mine soul belongs to gold

Lest be that gold which flows from out thy head,

Then ye'd be right, and know I could not bear

A breath away from ev'ry rounded fold.

As thou dost read, I draw nigh to thy bed

To set thee free and stir the midnight air.


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What I am I am Not

I can admit, what I am I am not.
The one who’s left behind of best forgot.
I am not special, I am common clay.
I am the one who’s morals decay.

I am not the one with something to show.
Of significance I will never know,
I am the one destined to choke.
Take to the grave the words I never spoke.

I am the addict seeking an escape,
Alone and sober when the silence breaks,
Sell my soul, all debts are repaid.
I am the one of whom stigmas are made.

My best intention, a free floating thought,
Stripped, barely alive, or all for naught. 


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Orgasm

           ORGASM
Hid in the deepest dark and soul of me
where no one ever thought could be a thing
a flower grows, called love, and and longs to be
all of your deepest dreams a night could bring.

And if this night does whisper your desire
through mine own heart, and through my fingertips,
my flower love shall burst into a fire
as surely as the meeting of our lips.

To lay you down and enter love so deep
into the very heart of you I go
then damp with passion, it's the time for sleep
to dream the dream again that few could know.

        And as the dawn lights through my window pane,
          my flower love--I'll enter you again.


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Frequency

I slipped into my seat without a sound
A broken radio- I can’t tune in
No one cares to turn their head around
I try to speak, but somehow can’t begin

I’m on a different frequency, alone
Try as I might I can not make a sound
A never-ending piercing dial tone
Still no one ever turns their seat around

I use my words to write down what could be
My written self can leap and scream and bound
I hold her up, so hoping they would see
But no one ever turns to look around

I slipped into my seat without a sound
Because I know no one will turn around


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How The World Is Really Changed

      UPHEAVAL
        HATE
You've sensed it grow from sea to murky sea
and smelled it's fragrance, shore to crashing shore
and though you thought that love is what would be
deep in your heart, it's not what you've looked for;

creation came from catastrophic things,
a crashing in on life, to bring a change
and nothing's ever come from what love brings
it's all from pain that life can re-arrange;

and if the end is closer to us now
of what we are, and all we have and hold,
we'll hope until the end, to find out how
to save ourselves, before the tale is told;

but as we slip and fall beneath the sea
we'll know that hate has made it all to be.


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Love Amiss

Tears falling like rain drops Agony pinching at my heart A wailing cry, deepening sobs All because I loved you from the start Ever since that rainy day Your smile made feel like a spring's flower Your laughter warmed me like summer may Your touch stilled me like winter's shower Then to tell you how I feel, and make Love complete Was like running to a cliff's edge 'Cause I loved you so much I'd rather love you in secret Than to have lost you in an amiss instead You were my friend I grew fond of for your beauty and your fault Now a stranger you've become because it was your Love that I sought


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Breath Away

Visual cacophonies: I witness
     Them, blithe and impaired-smouldering like a 
 Cigarette. Phoenix, to rise from ashes
     Is irrelevance; flame is far from a
Necessity to warmth, though I am no
     Prometheus with bruises of the mind.
It has wavered too long, taken too slow
     To only find it has been wasted time
(And the time peices are all unfriendly here).
     They, unreliable and tepid, take
The breath away from me-it idles there,
     Steaming from exposure, cursed and fake.
There lacks a subtle hinting waif to speak
Of all unglories of a Heart that's weak.




"Breath Away"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith


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Inability

Emotions fall to meaningless cliché
attempting to unravel lover’s mind,
and plummeting through endless fields of grey
though vibrant you, poetic threads unwind.
Obstructed by the trials two lives have brought,
the beauty seeks its eloquent release;
expression, though we surely have been taught,
will fail when all poetic urges cease.
The promise made, ensuring we survive
stirs not the timeless scribble of the pen,
though every small betrayal so alive
does beckon me to empty page again.

The passionate alone can drive the quill;
as such, it seems my pain is stronger still.


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ENDLESS


Ending comes next if you but see;
Now collects pain in unheard screams;
Dry distress texts in words empty;
Looks of disdain float like cold cream;
Expound the tact of sordid stress;
Sense an old song straining for clout;
Stretch a new act in old distress;
Sling hurts that throng with gripe and shout;
Claim a new way of telling how;
Reach beyond strain to dreary finds;
Explore this day a certain now;
Allow harsh pain to impact mind;
Mull sad sorrow with heart that feels;
Sense the hollow that aches to heal.


Leon Enriquez
14 July 2014
Singapore


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Sonnet XII

With skin so pale you resembled a ghost,
And lips as red as the cherries you ate,
You were, by far, more beautiful than most.
With a mind so smart, and a heart so great,
If only, if only, you loved me, too.
To me, you were all that mattered in life.
And I knew that my love for you was true,
But without your love, I was filled with strife.
Lying side by side one cold, wintry night,
Our bodies' heat fogging up the windows,
I declared my love for you with delight.
But you did not answer and quickly rose.
I loved you as much as my heart allowed,
But then, you left to join Him in the clouds.


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Closing In

walls are closing in coming closer and closer suffocating me till I draw my last breath my wings are cramped and are needing to be stretched tight in their span.... it hurts to yell when i have to it hurts to scream into the softest pillow the wall hurts too much when it's hit with my fist what can I do to stop these walls from closing in? I am suffocating, inside I'm dying.... fading away... I call for help but have naught to say so I bend my knees clasp my hands together close my eyes tight and pray


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Sorrows

My pen drips of sorrow and on this paper, I write each tear.
My words that flow betray my honor and send me fear.
Never would you know of the dilemma and sorrow I hide.
My soul and desires have reached outward and only cried.

Burdens I have carried and hidden from day of my birth.
Lost and forsaken my spirit never awoken for my worth.
Though I carry onward and deflate my mystery from inside.
They know not of the precious fortitude, courage I hide.

These attitudes I shall carry deeply into my quiet grave.
For to depart any other way, would separate soul to save.
My sorrow of who I have disheartened I carry deep within.
Though I do not feel my quagmire holds any real sin.

These days and nights that I target, from within my life,
Shall someday have a stronghold and be graciously rife.

written by
Cecil Hickman

written for
Sponsor Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~ 
Contest Name Just Write

written on 08/14/2011


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THE LOOK OF LOVE

          THE LOOK OF LOVE
The very moment that we met I knew
something was here much more than I could see
your eyes reached out as still they always do
and flow throughout the very deepest me.

I wonder at the light that comes from you
that sudden glow--is it because of me?
and do you feel the warming that I do
that pounding of the heart--do others see?

There's not a thing in life that I've been through
I might compare with what it does to me
the moment you appear, what can I do
but melt into what you can plainly see?

Whatever can I do--how can it be
each time our eyes first meet it conquers me?


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THE BURYING OF THE VIRGIN

THE BURYING OF THE VIRGIN Monsieur L'Vampyre
The gloom of death gone bad so near that night,
as circumstance played out a mournful tune,
and echoed through my brain, as if it might, 
give credence to the shadows of full moon;

and buried I my virgin, thin and bare,
she bathed in lilac, head down to her toes,
I laid her sixteen feet, to keep her there,
and marked her with a headstone no one knows,

and lest the devil wolves, who love her dear,
should get a sense of lilac in the night,
and smell their way from there to over here,
then raise her from her tomb, as sure they might!

I could not bear to end her chastity,
and so she died a virgin just for me!

She was an early purchase, just a child,
just seven years, from gypsies passing by,
and in her eyes the look, both free and wild,
yet of her bondage never questioned why.

All ladies saw her beauty, as she grew,
and changed from childhood to maturity,
to be more woman than they ever knew,
and virgin that she was, was due to me.

But at her end, her body was afire,
and yearning for the love I would not give,
lest I should lay to waste, in my desire,
the greatest beauty of this life I live!

So sleeps my virgin, as she'll always be,
unless my passion gets the best of me!
© ron wilson akaVee Bdosa


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BRIGHT AND MORNING STAR

     BRIGHT AND MORNING STAR
The grace of all He is be with us all,
as surely as the end--the promised love
comes quickly as a thief--to bring the fall
of what the world's become--and singing of.

Behold how quickly comes--from Alphas flame
as naught can end unless it has begun
the light of one who's called a holy name
will light Jeruselum without the sun.

These words were said--to write--Omega's near.
And all who can will find the narrow way,
as prophesied for all the world to hear,
and then the bride says--come--this is the day.

Those hearing all will come--from near and far
to David's own--a bright and morning star.


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NIGHT OF THE LONG KNIVES -- Masters Of Intimidation

   NIGHT OF THE LONG KNIVES
To your mind's eye, I lay what I may choose
to be the only way you'll ever find,
you'll never have the choice to win or lose,
but go the way I put into your mind.

What evil lurks? You'll never feel the grip
of what I only say between each line.
To lead you on, the vagrant of a ship
of soul, but destined to the will of mine.

Forgotten Swastikas still fly at night,
protected by all time and Horsemen Four, 
they'll soon be loosed again, in all their might
and feed upon man's need for time of war.

And I will put these things into your head,
to change it all, from life, to living dead.

Democracy is what God's given you,
and you have loved each minute in your haste,
you'd have it all, yes everything I do,
your treasure chest is overflowed with waste.

And you've forgotten how the world is burned,
night of the long knives never comes to mind,
forgotten in the past you never learned,
though history is there, not hard to find.

I am the master of what is your fate,
in Social Dominance, I claim it all,
and you will never see until too late,
Intimidation's made the way you'll fall.

And I have changed all things there in your head,
to bring about the life you'll live to dread.


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HE KNOWS MORE THAN WE

       HE KNOWS MORE THAN WE
In meeting all demands fate throws my way
I sometimes wonder just what's coming next
so many complications come each day
that make my life a little more complexed.

I know God gives me strength to carry on
whenever I but ask, He's always there
just when I think all hope is surely gone
somehow I always find more hope somewhere

that sees me through the very darkest night
and opens up my eyes so I might see
that all I need to make my wrong go right
is just accepting what He's given me.

He always gives my life a little more
of all the things that I do not pray for.


Every blade of grass is a study; and to produce two, where there was but one, is both a profit and a pleasure.
Abraham Lincoln--September 30, 1859 Address before the Wisconsin State Agricultural Society


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LISTEN TO THE DEAD

        LISTEN TO THE DEAD
The dead will speak, if open is your mind.
But do not hope, if hope's not all of you,
forever though it seems, one night you'll find,
persistance is the tool that pulls it through.

Sabbatical thy nature; evil rein.
Supremacy of thought, the constant flow,
An opening to life, that brief Beltaine,
the window through all time, desire to  know.

The Devil to his day, his time is near.
You feel it, death the constant, life the bore,
you must light one black candle, while you're here,
to sap the power you've been looking for.

Breathe deeply--light the candle if it's black.
But realize, there'll be no turning back.


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The Succubus I Date

You’re the succubus at the edge of my bed
that use to call at night. I was nearly dead.
You would climb on top of my creased corpse 
and claim my soul through the fleshy pours
still letting off the last remaining heat of life.
You laid your naked body on mine in spite
of the fact that you had already taken
all the religion I had left for praying.

And now, in my last blurry waken days,
you still perch yourself like a bird of prey
over my bed post and laugh at the ghosts
of my past. You have some reason to boast.
You crept up while I was half asleep
and covered me with the purple sheet.




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Sonnet IV

Fleeting moments suspended in freezing air,
     One-sided passion burning like a cigarette,
A taste of feigned innocence and feigned lack of care
     Moving to the music of dreams we will soon forget.
So tell me now; kiss the bottle and spin the girl.
     Our lips show off the unsecrets they know about
And greedily caress inspired skin, unfurl
     A thousand fleshy rose petals and what's left out:
Our sins in ashes of our bodies, smoldering
     Coals in retrospect. Dance in the flames that consume
Our thoughts and actions-a distant sense of folding,
     A closer sense of cloud cover: impending doom.
Our bodies touch, they bloom, and quickly they will wilt
Upon the gravestones of the emotions we killed.



"Sonnet IV"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith


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Poison


Blood drips from a rose thorn in the spring rain, your words resonate, humming in my ears. Love, the cruel word, seeps from my lips in shame while the bite from your lips has brought me tears. A wicked game played, my heart, the dice rolled. I came out the loser, 'tis sad but true. A cowering heart shall one day be bold, for now, my colors are fading in blue. Shall time alone heal the aching within? You laughed when I shared my adoration. Days pass with head low, I walk in chagrin. Your banquet has led me to starvation. In time, I shall no longer taste your poison. True love shall free me from this web you have spun. By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, April 14, 2012 *English Sonnet for Debbie and Cyndi's Sonneteers Contest Honorable Mention


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BITS

             BITS
The world we have today is built upon
what no one's ever touched or even seen
much like the faith that some think's nearly gone
it make's the world go round, just like it's been,

it's in a time that's neither night nor day
the very basis of simplicity
it's on or off, there is no other way,
it's black or white, there are no shades to see;

it's something or it's nothing, naught or one,
and lives in its own time, of cyberspace;
the distance in between what's dead and gone
and what we're coming to, the hyperrace.

   There are no limits to what we can be,
   until they're all turned off, and then we'll see.
     © ron wilson


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ROCK THE CASBAH

     ROCK THE CASBAH
What mystery of life runs through  the mind,
exchanged, such glances, never meant to share,
to raise our heartbeats, if one's there to find,
and if we have the will to take the dare.

To rock the Casbah, is this sin a crime?
Or just beginnings for the world in need
Of change to Westernize all life and time,
to bury burqas where there is no seed?

To see and fall in love through satin thin,
how many have there been to die alone,
and how much beauty seen becomes a sin,
to men who have a heart of solid stone?

Tunisian girl, the world is now ... for you,
So Rock the Casbah, like it's coming true!
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa


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THE FALL OF ATHENS

THE FALL OF ATHENS
Let all the wrath, unmercifully divine,
we have to muster, lead us in our quest,
and bring Athenian rule to be in line,
as sure the gods provide they fail the test,

all in our time, for Lacedaemon rules,
have we not made of man the equal to
the sight of death, upon the plights of fools
resisting all the means that we can do?

Their setting sun has risen in the east,
before the dark, those left will have to burn,
their knowledge is their fat, and only feast,
for all they know, they've yet to ever learn!

Now let the blood to flow down from the hill,
as if the flood has come and made the kill.
© ron wilson


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FICKLE LOVE

         FICKLE LOVE
The beauty of it all was not so real
until you touched my lips that summers night
to make love something that my heart could feel
and told me you'd be mine, if wrong or right,

no matter what the cost, you promised me
you'd always love me, even to the end
and I believed our love would always be
from you, my lover, and my special friend

but for some time I've watched you turn your eyes
if I should even try to touch your hand
and now I know that love, like time, it flies
but why is something we can't understand.

Your love's returned to where it used to be
perhaps one day it shall come back to me.
                   © Ron Wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)


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SO IT GOES

         SO IT GOES
We've heard that so it goes, and all is vain
that everything just happens come what may.
Is nothing worth the time, or all the pain
and everything just passes, anyway?

If so it goes, and we have no control
and evil's just a thing that comes along,
then what's the use in setting any goal
or teaching good and bad, or right and wrong?

What is the use if there is nothing more
than what we have right now, and here at hand
what good is there in ever planning for
a better way than one already planned?

How sad to think a generation knows
no more than all is now, and so it goes.
       © ron wilson


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Forgive and Forget

Can you forgive if you just can't forget?
heartaches and pain from more than one affair
too near to the surface, full of regret
remembering nights past, full of despair

Can I still hold you close, feel you'll be true
lies and deception, our world gone amiss
hearts have been shredded with all we've been through
on the wings of dark angels, feel the abyss

Years now you've struggled to make me believe
that I own your heart, those days are long gone
slowly my eyes open now and conceive
the love in your heart, lighting our new dawn

Forgiveness may not have come on a breeze
In the future you'll find, 'twill pass with more ease.


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REMEMBER TO FORGET

    REMEMBER TO FORGET
I may remember, but I won't give in
to every pain of you, your hurt, your lies;
I've loved you once, but never shall again,
if I can just remember to forget your eyes.

I've put it all behind, I won't be bound,
by empty promises, that's just your style.
I'll walk away, and never look around,
if I can just remember to forget your smile.

I'll never wonder how your world is now,
if you have learned love's more than just a game,
I'll put it all behind; I know not how;
if I can just remember to forget your name.

       I'll never let you know I can't forget,
        if I convince myself, one day, we never met.
©ron wilson aka VeeBdosa the Doylestown Poet


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YOU LOOKED TOO DEEP

     YOU LOOKED TOO DEEP
You looked too deep where no one's seen before
into the very deepest part of me
where hides my very breathing soul and more
I'd not allowed the world to even see.

You made your way right through my heart and mind
and opened doors I thought were locked up tight
through mazes quite complex that twist and wind
into what makes me tick, but out of sight.

The walls came tumbling down--you stripped me bare
between two heartbeats you came all the way
to see my greatest fear that trembled there
and then you let me know you wouldn't stay.

I sit and look out windows to no where
and think of all the nothing that is there.
© ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)


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VAMPYRE WEDDING

            VAMPYRE WEDDING                               
I make you mine tonight, to have and hold,         
   to lie forever in this love I feel,                         
I bring an end to ever growing old,                         
   and close your eyes, to all that is not real.               
                                                            
I give you love, that others never know!        
   The joy of life found only in its end!                     
And dressed in love, we go, as we must go,                  
   into the dark! The night! The only friend!                  
                                                            
I give you death! Then take you ev'rywhere!                
   To know all things; and answer to no-one!               
To have it all! To do as you would dare!
    within the dark, where life has surely gone!                
                                                            
        I make you mine! I sink my teeth into          
        your waiting flesh, and drink the love of you!


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The letter

My skies are so blue,
with all that is true.
I am lonely here waiting for you.
Lonely as can be,
With the letter in my hand,
you do not come to me.
As I stand here crying,
I am slowly dying. 
So my love,
show me you love me.


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N'er Will I See

Me thinks I can't breathe
without thine constant presence around me.
Thou hast erased my very being
when it's thine face n'er will I see.

Thou will n'er know my pain
in n'er seeing thee again.
It will be a constant strain
when it's thine face n'er will I see.

Thou will n'er be in my arms
and be filled with thine charms.
Thy life causes me great harm
when it's thine face n'er will I see.

Now thou knoweth how much it hurts me
when it's thine face n'er will I see.


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LISTEN TO THE DEAD

        LISTEN TO THE DEAD
The dead will speak, if open is your mind,
but do not hope, if hope's not all of you,
forever though it seems, one night you'll find,
persistance is the tool that pulls it through.

Sabbatical thy nature; evil rein.
Supremacy of thought, the constant flow,
An opening to life, that brief Beltaine,
the window through all time, desire to  know.

The Devil to his day, his time is near.
You feel it, death the constant, life the bore,
you must light one black candle, while you're here,
to sap the power you've been looking for.

Breathe deeply--light the candle if it's black
but realize, there'll be no turning back


Details | Sonnet | |

I LOVE YOU, DEATH

       I LOVE YOU, DEATH
I love you death, and welcome all you're not;
no love, no hate, no failing and no gain.
No fighting for the things we haven't got,
nor wondering about our latest pain.

Your mercy is a thing I surely bless;
anticipating you, my only friend,
who brings conclusion to all wretchedness,
the only one who knows us in the end.

So come you now as I help you along,
you know you've tried to get me in the past,
but now I know your timing is not wrong,
and so I live and breathe for you at last.

Your nothingness is what I hunger for,
and in your end, I pray there's nothing more.


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JADE

JADE
by Rosemarie Rowley

	
I knew you fainthearted what side you were on
When you talked of social reality: not Jesus at the well
With the Samaritan woman, or the invisible loss of power
Which halts her speech and causes His deference

Holding her in trust for what she is.
You can talk of rural communes in China
Till the cows come home – leading them will be a girl
Bearing a key-ring and a dead black raven.

Your ways are sweet indeed, nectar and honey
And vinegar to end it all: you’d let all the
Wells in the world run dry for a principle
And proudly show us the papier-mache women who survived,

Embalmed with bitter hope and urgent salvation,
To tell the tale on electro-magnetic tape.


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Exiled

Sent to the dreary realm that is now my home 
Made to seem I had no choice of what I had to lose
Only memories of my mind which I am left to roam
A captive of  a battle, a judgment I could not refuse 

Maligned by twisted truth, betrayed by ones most trusted
My voice muted by a flow of tears, and told not speak of it  
I watch the ship drift away, as the winds of treason gusted
With the dagger of deceit, the most solemn vow was split

I stand alone upon the shore and gaze at what was my land
I look down and see a reflection to see a truth I cannot declare
The truth within my eyes and its sand falling from my hand 
To even the balance of justice,  the sins I am thought to bear

I cry to the powers, the virtues, and to the Throne
To guide  me though treacherous waters, and help me atone
 


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KOSOVO DREAM

    KOSOVO DREAM
Don't worry little girl, you need not cry,
we know your tears, and feel them every one
and all too well, though many have to die,
you will go home again, it is not gone,

but merely re-arranged, or burned at most,
the place called home still thrives for you one day
to dream and build again, a fence, a post,
four walls to keep you safe where you can stay,

and never see again man's evil eye
nor feel again the hate that brought this on,
and though for now you sit alone and cry,
the bombers and the butchers will be gone.

Your home is safe, and waits for your return,
Though nothing's left, except what will not burn.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


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The Last Page Of Us

     THE LAST PAGE OF US
I've known the end is here for sometime now
but your sweet talking ways led my heart on
to think we'd overcome it all somehow
avoiding what is plain though love is gone.

But now the truth and all reality
comes to my mind, as sure as do your lies
and I must put aside what you tell me
but not the truth that's in your lying eyes.

How you could beg my love then go your way
into anothers arms, I shouldn't know,
and time is gone when I'd have more to say
and so I'll simply bid you now to go.

And leave my page, just close our book for good,
It's not a place you've ever understood.


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What becomes of the broken hearted?

My heart has had only one love to taste,
yet I have suffered the loss of it twice.
My Romeo, impatient, left with haste
after calling me the 'love of his life'.
Cloud of naivety led me astray:
stubborn in stance, which I’ll always regret,
‘twas timidity that pushed him away.
I’ve changed too late - my one true love lays dead.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
circumstance would’ve changed, if I’d spoke true.
The culprit, my weak mettle, I confess -
Oh! Romeo know, I’ll always love you.
     From now; till death brings us back together,
     I’ll not love again: my heart’s been severed.
	
	Rosaline.


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WARRIORS AND WIMPS

    THE WARRIORS AND THE WIMPS
The heat of battle's what manhood is for
when struggle for the right comes to a head
erupting to a world in need of war
and needing change to how we've made our bed!

We cannot sleep in this, it's much too soft,
mistakes brought on by politicians greed,
and so the winds of war come from aloft
aloosening the horsemen and their steed!

The preachers of dead faith wail at the wall
protesting ev'ry battle cry and truth,
though freezing in the night, they heed the call
of cardless, nameless cowards lost in youth.

      But when the battle comes they'll take their leave
       not caring who is left to ever grieve.

Too late, there's not a one to even pray,
there at the wall, submission is the rule,
they give too much, and play no keep-away,
not holding out, lest they are thought a fool.

while Netanyahu, leader of his quest,
the first so born in bounderies of their State
and made prime minister, whom God has blest,
and given all the keys to seal their fate.

But still the blind stand wailing to the wall,
and ready to lie down, pretending dead,
unwilling to be part of this, the call,
to arm, but give up everything, instead.

From Benjamin their fate is all too clear,
And losing is the only thing to fear.


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Quiet Departure

Quiet departure.  Tissue warning

Her life was drawing to its end.
She was content, although she knew
She will greet death as an old friend
Who will soon come to her rescue.
Death will provide the final cure.
Relieve her of her agonies
Which cancer forced to endure
 and grant her merciful release.
She slipped away before the dawn
Still with the smile that she had worn.
To lull us in to thinking she.
For once was resting peacefully.
She knew her old friend death would come
To take her hand and lead her home.

Sunday, 22 January 2012
http:// blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers


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Anxiety

       ANXIETY
A wave that grows from deep inside of me
to bring me down--I feel it start to grow;
its only name--is called--anxiety,
where it comes from--no one could ever know.

As tiny needles prick my skin--I feel
sensation of a drifting tenderness-- 
that goes from here to there--and so un-real--
it leads my mind to only second guess

at what's invading to the soul of me,
and tingles from my fingers, to my toes--
abducted from my world of sanity,
I fall into a dark that no one knows.

And shaken to an end I can't embrace--
I feel its kiss--but never see its face.


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ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON

       ON A SUMMER AFTERNOON
Come sit a spell--we'll take a little time--
from out of life, forgetting what we know;
and talk upon some things I guess that I'm
much closer to--than things life's had to show.

Do you know love? It's funny how it goes
to almost anyone, who needs it not,
but be there need--and love--it never shows
like finer things of life, to those who've got!

Now does that seem to be a fitting thing
to talk about, as passing time away?
Or would you choose what weather has to bring
as here we sit--with nothing more to say?

I guess your life's been blessed--and filled with love
or you'd know what my heart is speaking of.


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Zeus revenge

Zeus´s revenge  
He,  the best racing driver of all time, seven times 
he won the championship and he was able to retire 
still young and now very rich; yes the gods had smiled
upon this lucky man.  What did they have in mind?
He had defied death hundred times was there a price 
to be paid, a man with brutal skills and killer instincts.
 Winter holiday, we saw him skiing down a slope,
 lost his balance and fell, a banal accident one that
we laugh about, but his head met a rock and he lost
consciousness. 
He lingers in his bed doesn't know his name, maybe
he never will, this hard fall from glory it is not fair
that he should live life on soiled bed linen till he is
 dead. No mourners, but relief that at last his unjust 
suffering is over and hundred books  about his exploits 
will go unread on dusty shelves.


Details | Sonnet | |

Strangled Intentions

You were the gasoline
To the flame inside
I was lost in between
Your fame and my pride.

You want me back
Your interruption is late
This heart is turning black
As corruption spawns hate.

But I'll let it go
As we all forget the past
Only if I surely know
This time it's going to last.


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COMPLETE

          COMPLETE
How sweet the night, my love you came to me
   from out of dreams I'd dreamt within my past.
They weaved the spell and made my life to be
   in need of you, before I breathed my last;

and all my days of feeling less than whole
   were counted in my life of passing years,
though discontent, I guessed a restless soul
   was but the price I pay, with all the tears,

for being borned and being let to stay,
   and little did I guess, or even feel
that all I've been's existing day to day,
   and incomplete, but never really real.

        And how complete you've made my life to be,
        as if you've found the heart and breath of me.


Details | Sonnet | |

LUCID DREAM

          LUCID DREAM
I saw you dead. Now read between each word.
I thought the dream was mine, but it was you
who dreamt of me, a love song seldom heard,
though it was me, I guess you never knew.

Yes I was there, not making any sense,
and you, so young and beautiful would think
who is this fool, across my rusting fence?
And you'd not dream I am your missing link.

How could I be there in your restless sleep,
and touch your hand; remembering your eyes
when I awake, from what I thought too deep
to understand or hope to fantasize.

I saw you dead. I searched to find a gate,
but none was there and you had dreamed too late.


Details | Sonnet | |

Oblivion

OBLIVION
Your head is dead a chamber vast and void
and nothing's what you think on anymore
forgotten are all things you once enjoyed
and are replaced by life; the constant bore

your brain's been drained, you sit alone and stare
all hope's run out, your heart is solid stone
from night to day and day to night it's there
the wish to be forgotten and alone.

You think and sink into oblivion
not caring if you fade into the sky,
once innocent, your life's become your sin
and no one knows where you have gone to die.

Hallucinating for one friend who'll stay,
You see a face, then watch it fade away.


Details | Sonnet | |

Stewart Sonnet

Your green eyes, O! how they haunt me, 
You daughter of Persephone, you angel of night,
Whose silence bleeds mine heart, whose very sight
Entangles my limbs in a web, unfree
Without thee. Your cloudy visage I cannot see,
You Morpheus, intruder of my nights,
Of my dreams, as I climb after you to 
     unknown heights,
Heights that I slip upon and fall to the sea,
The flat sea of static, of hundreds of pixels.
But you lift me from the waveless waters
Before you vanish in white again,
Before I can taste your sweet morphine lips.
Kristen, Kristen, should I not bother?
Will we ever share blood, a kindred skin?


Details | Sonnet | |

THE LOVE GLANCE

 THE LOVE GLANCE
I felt your glance into mine anxious eyes
over your shoulder, quick and then away,
but you told all, so's I could realize
without our having any words to say.

And here is love, if love there ever was,
for that moment your eyes locked to my own,
to do the things that love, it always does,
in reaching out to make a love be known.

As every spark of it reached to my mind,
love's tremble moved a wave through all of me,
and though I tried, there was no way to find
control of it, and set my feelings free.

Much deeper into love and loving you,
is what your glance has brought my heart into.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


Details | Sonnet | |

LEVITATION

          LEVITATION
If you lie still and close your heavy eyes
and concentrate on nothing that you feel
as in a dream, where you can visualize
from out of no where, everything is real.

There is a long and narrow cord you find;
you thought was cut so many years ago;
out shining any sun that's ever shined
and made of things that only gods could know.

It's stuff of life, and leads to distant dreams
not ever dreamt by anyone before,
just then you know that nothing's as it seems,
and all we are is dreams, and nothing more.

      The blinding light consumes us in the end
          and it's a love no one can comprehend.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Turn Down Temptation

In my doubt,my loss of direction,
I ponder under the sky's purple blight
And think,"temptation's an intersection
Found along throughways and causeways at night.
Defined by it's lack of definition
Seen in shadows thrown by sodium arc,
It's promise calling forth from exhaustion
To tired eyes in need of a place to park.
A new road beginning from where you turn,
Vague horizon hinting at hidden hope,
Potential of all there can be to yearn,
Womanly scent of flowers and fresh soap."
These thoughts born of my own bleak frustration,
As I go past the turn down temptation.


Details | Sonnet | |

CAGE

     CAGE
Deep in the death, the vastness of your eyes
that reaches into times eternity,
I go, a vagrant, soon to realize
you are beginning and the end of me.

The fear of born again brings me to tears,
of living one more time, as I have done,
and unsuspecting, all my greatest fears
are realized again, and life goes on.

You look at me and bare all you may find,
I am a delicate, and easily to break,
and you can see me hiding in my mind,
from your first look, and I can only shake.

     The book of me is now one empty page
      and all of life has just become a cage.
© Ron Wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)


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THE DEATH OF TUTANKHAMEN Verse 6

THE DEATH OF TUTANKHAMEN Part VI.
How old are you--young man--why do you stare?
  The world awaits for you to raise your soul--
though fettered to the wind--and ev'rywhere,
  in time a dream will make you free and whole--

to walk again--the Valley of the Kings
  and ride upon the waters of the Nile--
where spirits bathe, and Nephritite sings,
  the secrets of the past--for yet a while,

the world is obdurate of any scheme,
  that brings new life--once death has made its' call
though greater men than you--have known this dream,
  not one still hides behind his secret wall--

  and no remains--stay hidden to the past--
  if golden chains are known to hold them fast.
© Ron wilson aka vee bdosa


Details | Sonnet | |

VOICES


Observe the hues piquant tale sums;
Love wears a face etching fine lines;
Discern the cues that frame outcomes.
Voice a sure trace timely and fine;
Obey the hint you know must be;
Inform your tongue for words to hurl;
Cause finds true tints engraving sea;
Engage fine lungs apt as mad twirls;
See what you see rare as red moon;
Sense a new wave coasting new grounds;
Pleasure can be a passing noon;
Expect to brave love's solemn rounds;
Ask to be clear lest fear sparks stay;
Keep faith and cheer strong for the day.


Leon Enriquez
11 July 2014
Singapore


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FINGERNAILS

       FINGERNAILS-Monsieur L'Vampyre
That tap-tap-tapping--how I loath it still,
though surely she's been laid among the dead--
and put there by my own design and will
to end the tapping she put in my head.

Those curs-ed nails--they brought my lunacy,
and slowly through the years, drove me insane,
and though I pleaded for my sanity,
she relished in the thought--and loved my pain!

So bludgeoned I--her life--to yesterday,
severing every nail that drove me mad
and though I thought I cut it all away
her tapping's with me yet, and twice as bad!

   Here in this cell, I wait, for death is near,
   and still her tapping's all that I can hear!  
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa


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SPRING CLEANING


Start with fond wit and let jest flow;
Plan what to do in manual work;
Reach to clear bits of dirt that shows;
Indulge and woo that cleansing perk;
Notice the piles of messy stuff;
Get going now to clear and clean.
Cheer helps re-style more than enough;
Lax stores somehow spread cluttered spin;
Entice your quest to sort things tight;
Aim to arrange a tidy place;
Now do your best to discard right;
If work feels strange, pace clearing space;
No matter how, spring cleaning works;
Go do it now in fling and jerk.


Leon Enriquez
26 June 2014
Singapore


Details | Sonnet | |

Love Potion

        Love Potion
Reach to mine eyes, so in my light I see
what you've become, imprinted in my mind,
the very picture of divinity,
more love than I would ever hope to find;

touch on my lips, the eagerness I see,
there in your look of love that always shows;
embrace my soul with what love ought to be
and tell my heart the secrets your heart knows;

bring out my life, so your love's bound to see
how I would kneel and beg you for one kiss,
and make petition that eternity
bears witness that I'd die for all of this.

       Bring on your love, so that the world will see
        what God has made, and you have given me.


Details | Sonnet | |

Whores of Babylon

      THE WHORES OF BABYLON
To talk of love, in such a time as now
is letting loose the devil in his day
for what is love is what life will allow
in search of feeling good in any way;

in sweet temptation of the heart and mind
we jump into what love has come to mean
then wrap our lives in what there is to find
and swear this love's the best there's ever been.

Too late, discovery makes our hearts to see
we've let our beds to whores who want to stay,
and love, the joke, has layed so casually
where we have slept the night, and thru the day;

it's easy to be here in loves embrace
and so we never look love in the face.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Gift Of Insecurities

The gift was in a very huge package
Alluringly wrapped in the palest pink
Card attached was calligraphic in ink
Any gift from him was not average

When opened with much delight, the contents
Caused insecurities to tumble forth___
Joy? Fear of failure came from these presents
Taking out least feared __verse__William Wordsworth

The essence of the gift to him was good
The sum of the gift to her was fear
Excitement at this stage of life she could___
Not get a grip__on hold her life for years

Should she not fear but just try to use the gift
God had given her time now spared her life


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useless waterways

Useless Waterways 
 It is a long river goes on till water meets the sky 
and as I have no oars have to follow the waterway 
till the place when all things are the same
Nirvana, some people say other calls its nothingness.
But there rivers that run into the sand
never given the chance to flow and dream of becoming
a Nile or an Amazon.... Stillborn they are.

The lucky river runs deep underground and has fish 
with no eyes and frogs white as new fallen snow.
The river ends up in a lake where fishtailed women live.
If you stop and listen you can hear the lake sigh and 
the river throbs, it never misses a beat.
 Mermaids have no uterus cannot bear children and
lament that sex is more important than babies. 


Details | Sonnet | |

Erasing All Trace of Elaine

It’s true, I have forgotten you, Elaine,
Utterly, as leaves when leaving summer trees
Die unremembering, as they coast along the breeze
Toward autumn ground.  No souvenirs remain.

Blurred images efface and fade.  I cannot see your plain
White dress, bedecked with flowered fineries:
Poppies…yellow, orange, with Death-dark centers.  Please
Believe my love’s dissolved, drowned in Fall’s grey rain.

Through dimming years I’ll rarely, any more
View you in my imaginings.  Your summer-tinted hair
Of golden tawn recedes.  My lust cannot recall
Your criminally-carnal figure, or

Your rose-flushed mouth.  Romance lies in Death’s lair.
In autumn’s pall, I have forgotten all.


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SMOKESTACKKS OF AUSCHWITZ

     THE SMOKESTACKS OF AUSCHWITZ
A trail of smoke fades to an autumn dawn
as sounds of morning break unearthly still
arising to the day, some life goes on
while others have the fear it never will.

Some ashes drift about the morning air
appearing as do snowflakes in a stall,
to restless breezes they drift everywhere
and they are spread about before they fall.

Each life that was is slow in pure descent
and longing for the earth that pounds below
the mother of all life, where time is spent,
until time's all run out--it's time to go.

Down in the valley echoes from a train
awhistling here come the dead again.
 ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown PoeT
This Friday, 20 April, is observed as Holocaust Rememberence Day.


Details | Sonnet | |

HEADACHE


Heed the sure sign, piece the puzzle;
Expose the case as trouble trips;
Aim true align, indulge tangle;
Deem dizzy daze noise that pain flips;
Allow your hurts in time to heal;
Choose to then know, notice the pain;
Hide not the dirt, sense loud reveal;
Enter the flow that marks things plain.
See to the cause ideas contain;
Trust in your hurl, gather your wits;
Realise the course act can attain;
Exit the swirl in easy fit;
Survive the pain, embrace new gains;
Sweep brief complaint: see success plain.


Leon Enriquez
12 July 2014
Singapore


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MESSINA WHORE

        MESSINA WHORE
No more was she full grown than he a man
but love was something he was looking for
while she would be content, when it began
in knowing he was pleased, and wanted more.

There in the dark, Messina hides the sin,
that makes a boy into what men should be
transformed by love to their believing in
what makes a man a sailor of the sea.

If he could wish, and have just anything,
he'd have her for his mother's tender care,
part of their world, and all a love can bring,
and innocent of love that's really there.

he'll never mention her in sailor's tale;
if he should say her name, his love would fail.
     © ron wilson (aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)

After all of these years I'm surprised I even wrote a poem about her.


Details | Sonnet | |

THE GIRL OF THE FJIORD

     THE GIRL OF THE FJIORD
The fjiord so blue and cold and deeper than
all time can ever measure in a day
there on the cliff she's stood, since time began
just hoping that her lover finds his way

she's cried ten thousand tears to let him know
she'll watch for him no matter how the sky,
and if the freezing north winds have to blow
between the narrows of the cliffs she'd die

her lamp is lighted every night for him
but this night's bitter cold and made it's mark
although her love is great, the light is dim
and time has turned it to a tiny spark.

   her ancient bones have frozen to the cold
    but love kept her from ever dying old.


Details | Sonnet | |

MOUNT YOUR PEGASUS

MOUNT YOUR PEGASUS
To stay forever beautiful and young
and ride across the windows of the sky
on wings of Pegasus, of which is sung
the merry nine of Zeus, who never die;

their words are flowing still, from every heart
who writes a rhyme or reason with the pen,
perchance to shape the world, or be a part
of what tomorrow testifies was then.

In all of time, the poets take the lead,
of where the world must go, it's in our hands,
and Zeus still loves his daughters in their need
as sure as every poet understands.

Once mounted, Pegasus must take to wing
and every Muse must ride along and sing!


Details | Sonnet | |

BACK TO YOUR SUMMERLAND

BACK TO YOUR SUMMERLAND
What matters not, now past and put away,
your welcoming brings on another scheme
and here you make your plan, you can not stay
much longer than it takes to build a dream.

In this, the place where beauty binds all things,
forgotten is each pain, you've ever known,
and here, the Green of life, it always sings,
of life to be, from where all love is grown.

Until you get it right, you shall return,
back to your Summerland, where you can grow,
into a life from which we never learn,
because of learning things we never know.

Your understanding is your final breath
And life begins in what we think is death.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa


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Obscene Serenity

Scars on my heart,
Scars on my wrist,
It tears my soul apart,
To know that I cannot resist.

As the razor cuts trough skin,
The adrenaline is agonizingly sweet,
Yet I know I cannot win,
So I set myself up to be beat.

Then blood it starts to flow,
A seductive temptation from my vein,
Soon I can feel my heart start to slow,
And my mind is filled with a beautiful pain.

My suicide you shall call an obscenity,
While it is my own peaceful serenity.


Details | Sonnet | |

Capstone

I am a capstone to a brilliant plan.
Before your time I came into play.
I was morning night breaking day.
I was before during and after man.
 
Before person place and time span,
After the mixture of stone and clay,
During foundations faltering away,
I’m the capstone where you began.
 
Cornered by time to live again,
I am rushing waters in the sand.
I am the beginning and the end.
I’m reserved throughout the land.
 
You are never ever really alone,
For, I capped every single stone.
 
 
®Registered: Ann Rich   2006
 


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LOOKING FOR LIGEIA

 LOOKING FOR LIGEIA
 The last of feigning death, love now abides,
 tuberculin, infectious, inside her breast.
 She breaths emotion where your hope now hides,
 and clings to what Melpomene knows best.
 
 Dear tragedy of love, deep in her eyes,
 to love we die, or never love one bit.
Your soul--once doomed to Hell--see now it flies
 renouncing every hope of ending it.
 
 Consuming as is love, the hate must flow,
 each seething, creeping, loathing will to fly,
 amongst what hope is left, one thought will show;
 to know the deep of someone, one must die.
 
 All of your will, which dieth, less for cause,
 has ended short of knowing who she was.
 ©  ron wilson


Details | Sonnet | |

The lady goes...

The lady goes where the lady knows
That anger seeps between her bones.
To live or love she has to choose
Between the hues of evening blues.
Alone and lonely are much the same,
Though only she can claim the blame.
But living for someone else’s care
Will only tear and that’s unfair.
So the lady knows that where she goes,
Anger simply cannot show.
The lady must be silent,
The lady must be coy,
The lady goes where the lady knows
That anger will destroy.


Details | Sonnet | |

Act the Part

I am an actor on this stage of life.
My role is factored into all the scenes
Beginning with an innocent delight.
My birth and babbling lines by any means
Directed all attention to this part.
A ham at birth and cute, I was a star.
The photographs and modeling apart
From some occasional fluffing thus far
I acted many roles that came my way.
Until my public image lost its lure
I found myself without a scene to play
Except the one where life shown me the door
A role I never played in my career
An empty lonely man, alone in tears.


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An Ending

No one understands what I’ve been through
I have no friends but many enemies 
The pain that I have caused still holds true
Worlds are full of people I am to please. 
The razor blade slides across my wrist
The red liquid drips down my shaking hands
My head convinces me I won’t be missed
My sleeping mind brings me to far off lands.
The end looms nearer as the light grows bright
The pearly gates above stand wide open
St. Peter sees my name and his face light
The gates are waiting and I proceed in.
	Heaven is the place I am to last
	My scar filled wrists remind me of my past. 
	


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The summer of My Life

My son, my son! He will one day put up his arms And shout out, “Play!”
He’ll scribble walls, my young aesthete, bang pots and pans to his own beat.
We’ll hide and seek in show’rs of May, and learn what clouds and stars might say.
He’ll run while stumbling with his feet and singing out his laughter sweet.

I know he’ll grow with every turn. My teachings round his mind he’ll churn.
I pray the good that I’ll instill enhance his power of free will,
And when he leaves he might secern what saves his world or makes it burn.
I hope his life shall then distill some greatness, making life a thrill.

I hope my days will still allow to reach these dreams I hold somehow,
‘Cause now’s the summer of my life and I’ve no child, and lost my wife.
If Fate my dreams does disavow, my art I heighten starting now.
I’ll also try by virtue rife to win my place in afterlife.

Remembered I might never be, most humans try this commonly.
Astounding this we try, agree? To endure like minor deity.


Details | Sonnet | |

Phil

She had a fellow Quaker waiting back
Behind at school for her Fall return:
My inner rage went red, then inky black,
As coal-hard hate began its bitter burn.
She called him soft—a coward!  So I thought,
A pacifist, a scholar, and a boy,
And in brute bloody fantasies I fought
And fractured him like some cheap toy.
She seldom spoke of him, but when she did
It always caught me with no good defense,
And so the jealousy was hardly hid,
A stinking cancer she could smell and taste and sense:
It ate like acid at our August days,
The dread distrust that when it enters…stays.
09-05-75 


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Wilde (1854-1900)

Dear Oscar was a darling for a day,
In fashion with the fawning, fickle press, 
Who later laughed his dignity away, 
And saw his soul unbutton and undress.
The once delightful dilettante was stilled, 
His unborn epigrams aborted in his mind, 
His future poetry and plays each killed,
His fancy faltering mute, deaf and blind.
For Oscar’s art was not enough to check
His masochistic challenge of propriety,
So into Reading Gaol they locked the wreck
Of Oscar Wilde, whose wit once fluttered free:
In tears and blood he scribbled and he scrawled—
The butterfly that once had flown, now crawled.


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Comfort Zone

Nobody really knows the real you
They only see what you want them to
One of life’s perks is freedom of choice
Stay quietly hidden or raise your voice
Show just a glimpse to avoid heartache
No way to love fully, but your choice to make
Be careful so this does not become
A zone of comfort, a struggle for some
Protection of self, on top of your list
Shielding kindred from oblivious abyss
And fallen angels are scattered about
War casualties, alone in the wake of doubt
Forlorn and forgotten since long ago
Similar spirits see more than you know


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The Anniversary of Heartbreak

Why must I lay here barren and wasted
What beauty don’t you see in my being?
You’re rejecting the fruit you have tasted
On deaf ears fall the cries I am pleading
You say your attraction to me is deep,
For you there will never be another
So why does my poor heart every night weep
Because you refuse to be my lover;
How can I make you understand clearly
Has this love become stale and bittersweet?
As I let my blood pour out it’s merely
A hollow attempt ending in defeat
How cruel is the heart armored in malice
Just like a bitter end; cold and callous


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Teenage Love

Antagonize sweetness with one of your smiles
trailing on moonbeams of words
frozen in icicle rainbows for miles
suspended and left undisturbed

Ribbon me whispers of sweet nothingness
Sing me an ocean or two
There are no colors comparing to this
for my eyes are blinded for you

Treasure our youth and devour the days
taking the plunge once or twice
Breaking devotion in so many ways
with sweetness gone frozen to ice

We are the moment that love turns to infinite pain.
We are the children of posters in love to refrain.


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Honesty's Due

Oh,gorgeous misery,gone 'cross the seas
In hope to find calm on ancient green plains;
Please,raise your eyes and brush dust off your knees.
Was there solace in those often harsh rains?
Yes,I once spoke a vow to,there,join you,
Long,I've dreamt of those parched,fallen mansions,
To share in your gaze of deeply bleak blue;
But my promise soon turned to false stanchions.
Would you believe your recall brings regret,
Still,even though I'm sure,distance and time's
Paled my memory for your best beget?
Apologies now yours,offered in rhymes.
   With due honesty and words most sincere,
   I pray you found peace from away,my dear.


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suicide

Gazing at my body there on the floor,
feeling more pain now than ever before,
I see the gun lying there by my hand,
a pool of blood there where I land,
I see my mother as she opens the door,
then all is lost in her screams of horror,
My father rushes in, Pulling me to his chest,
screaming my name and trying his best,
He knows when he feels my cold damp skin,
my time on this earth has come to an end,
I see pain and hatred burning in their eyes,
How could I do this, I don't want to die,
I'm  sorry, I'm sorry, I try hard to scream,
yet it is useless as if in a dream,
Terror and Sorrow flooding my soul,
Oh dear God I just didn't know,
The pain it would cause those left behind,
how I forever have scarred their minds,
Now it's too late the pain they can't hide,
just because of a selfish act of suicide.


Details | Sonnet | |

gone

Sitting here all alone I reach for you
But then I remember yoou are gone
Never will I see your face again
Missing my best friend

Why I wonder late at night
How can I make this right
Inside my head I replay the since
It feels like a bad dream

I had just said goodbye to you
I knew what you planed to do
You was going home to see your kids
You never saw him where he was hid

I heard about the body found the next day on the news
Than I got the call telling me it had been you
He raped and beat you as you screamed and cryied
Than he cut you up and lft you to die

The news man was cold and heartless with the story he told
What about her children and her soul of gold
What of her family and ones left behind
How do we deal with no leds to the crime

The officers say their doing the best that they can
But sometime I wonder do they understand
What it like to have someone you loved just took away
And noone have answers when their babies say

What do you do when a ten year old aks you what to do
Because they are sceard to walk to school
My best friend is gone and will never return
While her killer is out enjoying the sun

I wish I could find him before the law dose
because then he would learn how it felt to lose something you love
I wouldn't kill him I would let him live and stand trail
But i would give him a loss he could think on a while


Details | Sonnet | |

The Dreamer

Tears fall like rain from his eyes,
trying hard to drown his sorrow,
Where once there were clear blue skies,
now left facing another gray tomorrow,
Left feeling alone and empty once more,
The Dreamer stands with his heart in his hands,
as another love walks out the door,

A flame that once burned vibrant and strong,
has now become just a dying ember,
A heart that sang a joyous song,
now as cold as the snow in December,
Left behind now just another memory,
The Dreamer cries, As he tries,
to hold onto his dream,

A man once so full of joy and love,
who cherished each and every tomorrow,
Now stares at the rain clouds up above,
and tries to hold back his sorrow,
He gave his heart to a love so true,
truly the best he had ever known,
The Dreamer goes on as tine goes on,
in our memories he will always roam.