Fading porch light lures with pale glow
a circling moth, dull-beige and bare.
As starlight ties vast sky in bows,
I shy away from ruthless glare.
Night holds secrets I’ll never know
of bold ventures and starry-eyes
of love; cast alone in shadows,
I cry. The fading porch light dies.
Unwelcomed guest, the moth again
boasts of heights, flitting and spurring
my desperate cries - through open
window, lifting higher, whirring.
Moth seeks light on wings now broken
forever gone, my dreams unspoken…
for Chopped II Contest, 11/4/14
She's bound by chains too hard for her to break
Alive and yet she tastes a living death
Morality and ethics round her neck
And so she plans to rob her soul of breath
The flames of hell are licking at her feet
In torture is her soul in need of love
A proffered gift of passion undenied
Would bring upon her wrath from God above
To convent in the hills she must escape
Confession make and plead for mercy there
Or else her heart and soul to crucify
And end the call of pleasure, beauteous fair
Betwixt morality and passion lies
The sweet seduction in a lover’s eyes
Ice crystals form on a once dusty road
Taillights shining brightly amongst the smoke
The old tall oak bruised but still standing strong
A pickled blackened heart no longer broke
If I were gone tomorrow would she care
Remembering that I was always there
Standing by her side through thick and thin
My everlasting love would never disappear
That distant night she wouldn't believe
My heart was pounding loudly for her
Stabbing those stilettos deep into my heart
Walking out, nevermore would my spirit stir
No amount of liquor could mask the pain
Finally, a dead heart will beat again
**Inspired by Nathan D's Junkie Heaven poem and a few late night texts from a friend drinking at a bar**
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.
Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.
Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.
I may slap you, curse you, smack you
Don’t get too serious honey, its monthly fun
I am PMS ing and my trauma is true
Be my gentleman and Pass My Shotgun
I may hate your friends and knock them down
Be any handsome man or cute chick
Don’t get them here when I am around
I am PMS ing, People Make me Sick
I may laugh out loud at your silly jokes
And the very next moment won’t find them funny
That catastrophic emotional trauma pokes
I am PMS ing, its Psychotic Mood Shift honey
Every month, within me I sense this ruinous storm
It’s not me honey, this phantom is Premenstrual Syndrome
Sad boy, could anyone mend what's broken,
And dry your salty tears, but with a hand?
Is there anything we haven't spoken,
Is there anything we don't understand?
We have taken the rope, but not the pain,
I hope you know that we wish that we could.
We'll be here for you, through sunshine, and rain;
And if we knew how to help you, we would.
I know that you're angry with all involved,
And especially those close to your heart.
But surely, some day, all will be solved,
And you will thank them for playing their part.
So please read this poem, with thought and care,
Remember that we will always be there.
~ For D (you know who you are)
If only I did not believe in love
My breath would kiss tomorrows lips with ease
But I have been heart-broken by your love
And only death can cure my hearts disease
Your smile seduced my soul to sleep with sin
Your eyes eclipsed with evenings I embraced
Your laughter lured my limbs to love with-in
Bedazzled by your blessings beauty traced
Sometimes a cold wind blows upon a branch
Causing its leaves to fall unto the ground
I do believe love caused my life to branch
Away from dreams as music without sound
After this sonnet that your eyes receive
Cold winds shall blow to breeze my branch to leave
Dear freedom, your sweet innocent voice seems
Now like a distant echo, lost in the wind.
Hopes lost in a set of broken dreams,
With heavy chains, to your heart of stone pinned.
Day by day, night by night, without an end in sight,
Tortured by the ravaging beak of time, flying
With wings of solit'de, displaying its might,
And hatred-filled eyes, watching me dying.
These chains around my heart like a vicious snake
Poisoning my soul with darkness and despair.
A dreadful nightmare from which I will wake
And look into destiny's most wicked glare.
I stand under shadows cast by heaven's light,
And into sleep I fade, witho't a fight.
The knots have knots…God?
Threads of needing, want, desire;
passion spent on barren sod
left to burn on flaming pyre.
God, the knots have knots?
Nodes and nodules, full of spoor,
planted upon poisoned plots
hoarding, warmth, desire and more…
God, the knots have knots!
Pulse, and pump; push, and explore
lose the beastly cankerous clots
excrete angst, open the pore,
Free the knots, God, please…
By root and rote, the seedling pleads.
Contest: Me Against Myself
Starring into the dross of amber brew
no face see I reflected, simply hollow I.
The stein of crystal tells no fortune spare,
nor one of bounty, yet what is true?
With drink, I dredge the pain of life anew
and wallow in the grain of cheaper wares,
degrade myself and blame fate, for my strife,
ignoring all God's gift, so loud I cry,
as salted tears stain trails of my despair.
If only, I had been a better wife
I'd not be sitting here.
Form: Curtal Sonnet [A precurser to the Italian Sonnet]
abcabcdbcd c [10 1/2 lines]
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.
No more this verdant sight no more the sound
No more the heart of mist at nature’s dawn
No more victims of constant pressure found
No more the fool of man’s enactment borne.
To worship a foundation so ancient
The last bastion of one’s ancestor
Then one bears scars of prudence so poignant
When complied to appease the molester.
Our Fathers who wove within nature’s loom
So soon eras of memories destroyed
When at the mercy of Europe’s new broom
Leaving many dreams retrenched redeployed.
Hearts and minds linger still at Purple Haze
Ghostly cascades of falling tears amaze!
For all the farmers systematically force from their lands
in a orchestrated albeit subtle way
after the UK joined the European common market 1970's
A Poem about of one of those farms "Purple Haze"
Copyright HarryJ Horsman 2010
Tis not our fare to see the face of God
Nor speak in tounge to those who never hear,
They dare not come and go, is this not odd
as some would please, forgetting how to fear?
And also, let us hear it, one more thing,
we'll tremble to our end, if gazing on this moon,
some say is painted blood, to look will bring
an agony that won't leave us too soon.
The eyes must turn away, or die the death,
and leave one bitter cold from just the dare
to look on it, to see the dragon's breath,
'twil bring one to believe what's never there.
And lunar madness never calls to mind
the evil waiting there for you to find.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Looking across the dark night, I try , to know my mistakes,
To know why I'm here ,to know why my life shakes.
Nothing seems to go right ,everything is still the same ,
yet in my foresight ,I tremble to smile again.
Lost count of the stars ,as well as the tears falling by,
singing to the tune of, lone birds in the sky.
All efforts seem to go in vain, as I cry and breakdown,
trying to search that hand to wipe my tears and frown.
Missing every past moment, of joy as well sorrow,
uncertainties hanging above, graving over my tomorrow .
Losing every hope I had ,I close my eyes in emptiness ,
listening to the empty silence ,tortured by loneliness.
I dream of the day, the day sun would rise,
make me feel good ,and my mistakes I may realize.
A nightmare that always lurks in my mind
A jumble of thoughts I cannot fathom
Making me distorted, confused, and blind
My monsters are chanting their own anthem
Over again I can no longer bare
They drag me down to terrifying depths
But it leaves me grasping at the air
Choking me, taking away all my breaths
I'm screaming but there is no one around
I'm scared of failure, just simply nervous
They say they can fix me, but I can't be found
I'm starting to think trying is worthless
And as I awoke from my horrid dream
I realize no one is who they seem.
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
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
Define your lovely, soulless heart in death
To take my heart would be a risk; a storm
You licked your lips to taste what i had left
And jumped from cliff to rocks, i was forlorn.
Upon my lover; roses wilt in pain
For I’ve lost the one whom has no soul, and
Was all this give and take with us in vain?
I loved your soul and heart, we joined by hand.
The brewing storm that took a life, took two
For deep within your heart was love,
And deep within my heart was you
I’ll see you soon, i promise; heart above.
For without you I cannot survive
For without you I will not strive
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.
Lost in thought, deep in despair
Knowing loneliness has no bound
Eager to speak, quick to share
Ready to fool and to confound
Time moves memory remains still
Thoughts linger of what could be
Pain of lost hope does not heal
Nor can any faith part the sea
Love gives hope a new resting place
Questions of what will come to pass
Reason fights looking for any trace
Longing grows like the blades of grass
In the darkest hour, filled with solitude
Where can one be found in the multitude
Oh, yes indeed, you thought you had lost him.
All was well, you thought you're on easy street.
Your pathway was strewn with flowers and then
nothing to look forward to but to greet
grandchildren at the door, parcel out love,
forbearance accumulated in a
lifetime. Live life orderly and above
the board you built from illusions just a
little and dreams just a lot. One dark night
you awoke. That dark canine of chaos
and despair was back, sniffing, scratching right
there at your front door, the side of your house,
indomitable and stupid and near,
drawn like a dog to the heat of your fear.
Whats the point of being so alone?
Its what makes me sick inside.
Running away is something I can't condone,
So I'll search for where my pain resides.
The feeling cuts through me.
Like a rusty blade,
It'll leave a mark you'll see,
And send me to an early grave.
This emotion is like a sea of black arrows,
Sailing through wind,
They leave me stiff as a scarecrow,
When will this end?
Cross my heart and swear to die,
The end is nowhere nearby.
Sometimes i decide that i need to move on.
Then i realise that i cant, i remember You,
i cant help it, this feeling just goes on and on.
It feels like it'll never end, like an ongoing flu.
It's gone too far, now i hate loving You as much as i do.
i wish i'd never met You, it's pity i cant change the past,
For my future i can control, never again will i ever do
This to myself, because now i know, it will never last.
But deep inside, i'll always wish for Your love.
Life has become a living hell now, noboby can change that.
i really do want to get over you, but i'm stuck,
i'll never move forward or back, 'cause im trapped.
You're the best and worst thing that's happened to me.
i wish i could get rid of this curse, get back to the old me.
In the puddle of a storm
Where worms crawl and die,
I see a face forlorn
Backed by troubled sky.
Squirming to escape
The impending doom of light,
I peer back at my fate
And reflection of my plight.
A life that was a lie;
Sold out from the start
Leaving souls that writhe
To twist and pull apart.
Too late for tears to fall
Then splash and mask it all.
"Why must we suffer hardships and disease?"
we often wonder. Pain, adversity,
war, famine, death...our philosophy
cannot put the questions to rest or ease.
Depression, mania, infirmities
of the mind,--subjects of psychology
that are all causes of man's great misery...
the most tragic end of these maladies
is death by self. But we're not without hope
or God's compassion; today we can go
on with meds and care: we learn to cope;
it's easy to lose faith when we are low
and in despair, but we are in God's scope
right now...this believe in and always know.
It should not have surprised me when I woke,
laying in the hospital bed, white sheets,
bandages, heart monitor, IV yoke,
nurses, and three empty visitor seats.
Psychiatrists asked questions, prescribed pills,
forced meetings, demanded group therapy,
attempted to find the root of my ills,
declared depression, and then set me free.
It did not surprise me when I came home,
to find it still broken, empty, and bare.
Laundry still piled in a haphazard dome,
and proof of collapse pervaded the air.
I failed in life and also failed in death.
There must be a reason I still have breath.
She waits in silence for him to come back,
Knowing better than to ask where he's been.
When stumbling in with a bottle of Jack,
She knows at that moment it will begin.
Another night painted purple with proof,
Though she swears she'll leave him every next day.
Staring right through his eyes she stands aloof,
Not even bothering to plead or pray.
Like water lets the wind take all control,
She becomes a stone wall, flinching never.
Appearing strong but by an empty soul,
She wishes only to sleep forever.
She now lies still like a rock under Earth.
Neither one knew what value she was worth.
My ache licks like a furnace, Silent Spark
For you have further prolonged my patience;
Building on the weak to perturb the dark,
To surrender selfish sense of silence;
Your silence, an incision to the heart,
Angers that which disappears out of sight,
That mocks life, to its desolate ill part;
Cowers me out, so far-sight may ignite.
Bright am I now, lost into void and woe,
A panic fire orb which hath poured;
My speech and my prudence still lacketh flow,
Blackened from all heat sorely abhorred
Oh, I do light thee well as I may try
For you I burn on, till the day I die
Black cats screech and walk unseen in the night.
My heart is a black cat in the cold dark,
I travel unseen by others and mark
The world spin by and make prosperous might.
You are a cat of silvered fur pure white.
You travel the night, shine in the dusk, hark
Black cats follow you through street and then park
And yearn for you, to them, to turn your sight.
Can love be found or must one use a lure?
Can love fall from the sky or be slow grown?
My heart does not wish to be reborn sure,
The black cat wants not light dye overblown.
All the heart wants is a white cat snow pure
To love and be loved and for comfort shown.
MOTHER’S LITTLE KILLERS
She hates them, the unguent power
Which sticks her fairy wings together
Making impossible the ivory tower
Of disinterested passion, the if and whether
Of generic names, the ultimate aloneness.
The honest answer is to unstick
The loathsome epithets accompanying the mess
Let her soul free with a lexographic brick
As she goes on her desert train to limbo -
Grant her freedom to ride into the dusk
Without turning her into a soulless bimbo,
Pills shedding the epigrammatic husk,
Cavorting in the lunar satellite,
A spaced monkey too drugged to fight