Let me tell you what I’ve found, my brother.
The nice guy is the one that’s the struggler,
because the ones who are not, take it for weakness,
and slyly, cowardly, go in for the jugular.
Please spare yourself and don’t try to explain it,
Those cowards court evil like a diabolical cupid.
They haven’t a clue, nor do they want to.
As the ole farmer says “ ya jest can’t fix stupid.”
Shake that well trodden dust off your feet,
Christ’s Gospel is preached by the way we act,
Let’s not get caught up in the worldly ploys.
Come back to Christ’s Kingdom. Let’s stay on track.
Better to be ill thought of with your Christian flag unfurled,
Than to lose His precious Peace, a priceless God given pearl.
written for the real contest of Life and Love
Dad is pushing up daisies today.
He did away with himself on New Year’s Day.
He lodged a bullet into his own chest.
Less than a week later, he was laid to rest.
Down to Atlantic City, you and Mom would roam.
All our depressed father could do was stay home.
You desired to dump more money in a casino.
Dad pleaded with you not to go.
What a horrible scene you witnessed with your eyes.
Our father fashioned his very own demise.
Of course, you were filled with regret.
However, you too easily disregard and forget.
Even that didn’t stop you from losing your money.
Do you think destroying yourself is funny?
In many dreams of you, I wish
If I could get my hands on the wings
If only I could come over to you now,
It would be the best moment in my life.
Alone in a cool evening
With the light of a candle and the breeze from afar
And then the moment would draw close
And the night would become our friend
And nature would support our breathe
And our dream would seem simple
And nightmare be far from us
For the moment would be the beginning of a new era
And the dawn would bring joy
Happiness and love
Some Advice in This Sonnet
A few words of advice in this sonnet:
Don’t hurt, if you too don’t like to be hurt.
When bad deeds return, you might regret it.
So watch your deeds, and take care of your words.
Always know that from above you’re being watched.
On your right and left are angels writing –
Collect whatever good deeds you may lack,
To please God and meet Him while He’s smiling.
Avoid supplications prayed against you,
Especially those of righteous Muslims.
Beware of everything you see and do –
Know that on Judgment Day, you’ll be questioned.
Obey Allah’s Rules, and good you shall get.
If you displease Allah, yours is regret.
Miriam / Mariam Mababaya
I was twelve years old, it was one Halloween night
My brother was driving me in his old beat up car
He had been told to take care, and keep me in sight
He sighed, threw up his hands, and gave me "that" glare!
We drove awhile...it was cold, spooky and dark
Instead of trick or treating, we continued our ride
In front of his best friend's house, he quickly parked
Told me to stay put in the car...then went on inside
I sat a bit afraid...then out of the dark, the devil said Boo to me!!!
Looked into the window!! ..I screamed, grabbed the keys...threw a fit, locked the doors
The devil was my brother.......all dressed up...he had tiptoed through trees!
His friend was laughing hysterically.....they thought they had scored!!
What they didn't know.... when I had taken the keys
I'd tossed them out of the window and into the leaves!!
(A true story!!
ps...After an hour or so, on hands and knees looking for the keys
we found them finally.................and yes!! He finally took me trick-or-treating!
We are still laughing over this story, many years later!
Actually, he is was and is a terrific brother, by the way,
but still throws up his hands occasionally
and gives me "that" glare..Lol!!)
With the love of my brother I was bonded,
And of such, I was blinded,
I failed to see his quality in others,
And I compare other love with his
His love was with trust and understanding,
His love was with care and kindness,
His love was with equal and sweetness,
His love was with courage and mindful
Not because he was my brother,
But because he was a man of sober,
And always in less violent and more verbal
He is Precious.
And so I find it difficult to have such where he is not there,
And with this, thus, I have none love left for others
Am I my brother's keeper? I'm suppose to be.
But you continuously dig deeper in misery.
A sad state you put our love in.
You can be my brother but not my friend?!
Blood is thicker than water, so they tell me.
But my heart is left for the slaughter unfortunately.
I wonder how a brother could turn his back on his own?
I ponder if you'll even care when I'm dead and gone.
When I call on you, where you at?
You leave the world to walk over me like the bottom of a doormat!
I'm your brother 'til the end, that's reality.
You allowed your pride to destroy your spirituality.
Am I my brother's keeper? I am, and I will always be!
It's a guarantee we will forever remain family!!!
LETTER TO A SORE BROTHER, BEAUTIFUL SISTER (DEDICATED TO MY BROTHER’S AND SISTER’S LOVE)
Early jungle makes me a desire
To be alone in the belly of our dear beautiful mother
Because our growing up is such and irony
Which made me rejoiced each moment this time
That wishes were never allowed to be rose
For men of wrong mind to buy
There in my childhood irony moment
We fought as if it is created share hatred
We wish for all except one that pays a little pain
For i held back from all
As all held back from me and other all
Indeed, people taught that our life is a share pain
A sore injury to the world of love
Because i loved each moment my brother bleed from our father’s hell
I went behind the scene to celebrate my goal
kindly, the moment is always become
As i happily shun and damn the future
... who did you think you are with my future
I sometimes ignorantly murmur as a child
In my little kingdom emptiness, i rejoice in the brothers pain
A little hatred of thee, a more love of me
I love each time i am loved alone
To hate thee by my blood and cause sheepishly i became and honour
As this irony grows into something still ironic
I wish my pain could allow my pen speak plain
To cry such an awesome deep and sore blood
At each moment the rain of thee bath me thoroughly
To see thee share all to have me clothed
To borrow from the enemy to have me homed
even to lose all from the gods to make sure that i have all from the goddess
The brother even stole to have me meal
More like the blood and doing of the mother, it shared abroad
As brothers all lie to have me protected
Much illiterate to make me the literate king
Oh bleed me death less i say this pain of love
Sisters risk of the night, the horror evil men to see a smile in this lips of mine
That i wish never remember the selfish boyhoodness
Ay! How i see my brother’s cry in his desolation
Not for him or for his little joy
But for the pain of a dear brother
To save all only to loose all to life a brother
Its pain of the ugly moment in a close death
It was determined and death paid of thee
But the brother and sister’s coming death
Woke brothers will up, sisters ghost down
I need to save my brother
Leave my life to save my brother
And take it once his breath is back
There the sacrifice of a dear brother made me desire
Never a child as this in my next world
Because you are a brother, a beautiful brother
A sister, very handsome sister that i hold dearest to my breath
And love dearest to my heart beat
A bad break came to my kid brother Curly.
It happened during the filming of “Half Wit’s Holiday”.
A stroke at his age is considered too early.
He will be unable to act they say.
A replacement for Curly is needed right away.
I told them Babe’s condition is temporary.
The studio is auditioning candidates today.
I insisted Curly will be back, you’ll see.
However, our producers said they disagree.
We need a third Stooge immediately.
I mentioned my older brother Shemp as a possibility.
They said Shemp looks too much like me.
I told them to take Shemp now that Curly is gone.
If not, then the Three Stooges will walk on.
Information obtained from the late Moe Howard's autobiography.
When those words are spoken, written, to be a man or not,
Buzz says the bee, to discover what is he?
When the vortex of brains come calling all to reveal plots,
On dripping lips with open mouths that are caves of echoes, opened with skeleton
The makeup of a man with gray and white matter speaking to him,
Seats of consciousness much more grandeur than the largest auditorium,
Fleshy pods of minds, bodies, and souls, that are glass snakes with broken penis
Regeneration of anger, hate, sorrow, despair, and love trapped in the hearts
Driving on streets with war bonnets making exchanges with Julius Cesear in the
Boxing wrongs reminding us that we are men, and men we are,
Love letters from Sappho, slapping vulnerability, and veneered with eroticized heat,
Ermine men with life lessons spitting out the memories of nightmares,
Graveyards of bones with worm infested skulls, and dreams at rest,
To be a man in life, to be a man in death, here, and there, he must live or die the
The Door of Solitude
It was the door I remember most it had been
optimistic green once but now dripped of rots
only tears can produce. Like walking into a portal
you know if the door opens you pace into
dejection and be enveloped by the dismay of
people who hated one another but cut not
unknot a union bound by threads of misery.
The yard was full of car parts that never would
be assembled and batteries oozing sadness
no jump lead would bring back to life.
The door didn’t open a bit of relief, like when
a stalled car on a dark road suddenly starts.
I did see a flutter on a dirty curtain but knew
it was too late to help my brother back to sanity.
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.
When was it that you became different?
You were never like this before ever.
Everything you used to do; efficient.
You're so intelligent, your bonds; you sever.
I cannot believeyou changed, you're altered.
When was it that you became dofferent?
Everything you used to do; sufficient.
You've come so far, yet you have just faltered.
I do hope you see soon enough, whats happened.
For you wede blinded bg gour own selfish greed,
Your wits have been blunt and dull; less sharpened.
Since your blindness you have neve ever.been freed.
Your a sycophant, an adulator; your a grovelor.
I am just floor'd; how you've become; brownoser.
He waved at us
Such a good fellow
Or so we thought
Now the eclipse is gone
And faces now brighter
We saw trails
He was the one
He that took our position
And drank our portion
Of the libation
Given to us all
Yet he calls himself a brother
If such is brotherhood
Shall I stay brother less?
A troubled mind; a troubled soul
You show no remorse or any regret
Those hateful words you bellowed that day
Are tearful words I’ll never be able to forget
Your mental psychosis and misery within
Are the exact same traits I share with you
The only difference between you and me
Is the hate you illustrated; I could never do
As we grew up we had our little quarrels
Just as brothers and sisters frequently do
But never once did you see in my eyes
The hatred and disgust I sadly saw in you
My heart keeps telling me to forgive you
And remember exactly who and what we are
But your inconsistencies and irrational patterns
Have left me frightened and forever scarred
Frightened to give you my trust once more
As I reluctantly have so many numerous times
So I’ve decided to close this chapter in my life
Saying Goodbye is my piercing heartfelt ending rhyme
© Stacy Lynn Stiles