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Best Betrayal Poems

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Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Your Judas Like Tan

""Child's Play""

You keep going down like rain,
A wishing star in disguise, 
You cry bloody murder, my face in disgrace
Your lips forever stain, 
A smooth dance of manipulation, 
Your eyes, hide the truth, like an unseen domain in space 

Darling, however, that will never cut what bleeds from a mother's heart
My precious darling, your feathers are in mourning like a flightless dove
Is this to be love, standing there, while I fall apart
Our younger years, display nothing but love,
Like the wonder years, you will remain more precious than a stone 
From one betrayal, right after another, a heart colder than winters zone
That never counts as a failure, when it comes to unconditional love
Darling, this pain and secrets were never yours to absorb alone 

"My sweet darling, Let me hold you once more!"

My beautiful girl, the nights grow random like sin 
Your mind's fast at switching grapes on a vine 
Fault, from a mother to son, too much exposure from the sun
Insanity and sin remain, from a mother to daughter 
Soaking in salt, that protects me from your loaded gun
A shameful way, to sunbathe your skin like a shooting star
My beautiful daughter, you put my heart behind bars

My dearest cry baby, you're all grown up, these days
Sweetheart, I don't see you running home no more,
These towels will not dry, 
The feeling of fresh pepper, floats from the center of my core

Your man made drama, spread out every window and doorway
Leaving the light to reach the floor
-- Once again the sun, has revealed your Judas like tan
Your tears have fallen, one too many times
Here we are, covering every bruise
Raising every brow, in hope everything's gone
Darling, no one will love you, like I do
I still whisper your name, and wish life had nothing to lose

Sweet darling, your eyes are rolling like dice
A small roll of dominoes misleading everyone the wrong way
This time I can't cover your mistake with a blanket, 
My little darling, you have gone too far
Your paper dolls aren't cutting smiles from this frown
I've always known your the Iscariot, 
Selling your soul for a simple quarter
These tears, were never yours to sell, for at the end, 
Our sins, will have more weight than a thousand pounds of gold

My beautiful darling, I forgive you, every day, 
I want you to know, I'm Sorry about the things I had to say
I don't understand how easily you trampled our bed of roses
Posing over the moon, in your treason white gown

Darling, Mommy wants you to understand,
My voice, was for your own good, 
The knife, in my back's all rusted,
The father clock, continues to stand still,
Sweet child, the allusion you left behind faded long ago
Contradicting your life, with your infamous pretty face logo

My dearest cry baby!
Why the tan lotion, where's your sense of guilt?
Is this another game of child's play?

Darling, it's time to put them toys away,
In the name of Jesus, I pray!

"My Sweet Darling, I need to hold you once more."

By:

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

A Man's Tale

A man’s tale 

With mind control there he was,
A man for sale…
Hearing the vocal sound from this wordsmith, 
A man in his own tale…
Currently he was sitting and calling upon the earth.
Prior rumors about his love for the Queen.
Yet to come would be a bard singing for Her Majesty-

A fool wrapped in a cowardly way.
Flowers and scars sat on his floor.
A torn heart, making its way out the door.
He caresses the image of her in his mind.
This man, this bard, sang a song for the blind.

Releasing a soft note, she turns towards the sun.
Forgetting the ferocious rage of the king.
The man kneels with the light flashing in his face.
He drinks with his eyes, one moment of glee.
His head lands under the moon's winter space.

Never again, will he spend his days thinking.
Never again, will he feel the shivers when calling upon the earth and her beauty. 
Never will he know, he was the tune that eased her thirst.

A man’s tale always ends under a woman’s spell. 

by;PD

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Yesterday Love Was Such An Easy Game To Play


Yesterday, I went home for lunch, I never go home for lunch. When I got to our apartment  I don't know why but I didn't reach for my key.  Francine was at work and I always leave last in the morning.  I was sure I had locked the door but I didn't reach for my key. I reached for the door knob and turned. The door was open.  I don't know how I knew. The moment I entered I knew.  I froze. I could feel it, smell it, hell I could taste it. I started walking but my muscles wouldn't move,  my lungs were grasping for air  for some oxygen  some sweet, sweet oxygen but I could barely breathe. “Leave!” I told myself but I kept walking. Not really walking,  it was like moving through mud,  like a slow motion scene in a movie.  But this wasn't a movie.  This was my life and I could feel it slipping away  from my grasp. I heard noises! Francine.  I had heard those noises a hundred times before,  they were the sounds of an Angel  but this was no heaven  this was my own private nightmare. The moans traveled through the muck in the air  amplified like the hiss from a distorted speaker.  It mocked me over and over again. Climbing a mountain might have been easier  but I finally reached the bedroom, and there they were, and there she was. I knew, I knew the moment I entered the apartment.  Why hadn't I just turned back?  I could barely see, my eyes were blurry,  covered in layers of my own tears. I could see her  I knew I had never seen him before. They were naked and in our bed.  Naked in OUR BED! How do you that? How do you cross the line to that extreme? You'd think the green eyed monster  would control my actions from here on in.  I did see green! I was insanely jealous but I didn't want to end up the morning headline in the newspaper. That monster jealousy was by my side but I took charge.  I'd have to keep him at bay, at least for now. You'd think I would be mad, I wasn't. You'd think I'd curse and call her whore. I didn't! Being cut open alive must be lest painful than this.   This hacked away at my spirit,  tore away at my self worth. I felt like a pile of worthless shreds. I spoke I mean my lips moved and words came out... I think.  I think I said,  I'm not sure it all happened so fast, she never spoke. I could see the shame on her face  she didn't need to speak,  but, but I think I said 'Sorry... I said Sorry and I left. I wandered for what seemed hours,  it was minutes.  It wasn't like I was meandering to a different drummer;  there just wasn't any music anymore. I was moving to the rhythm of the beating of my own heart.  Like a broken record it was skipping, like a broken record it played  in a loop of repetitive monotony. I suffered in my circled steps  until I couldn't stand it any more. I found just enough strength  to return to the apartment. I knew she was gone  I already felt the emptiness in my whole. We'd never see each other again. We had been so much. She was a big part of my life. She was the love of my life. I would never love anyone like that again. So much of her was me. I thought she was my soul mate. We let go of all of it. There is a feeling of betrayal. A feeling of disgust. A jealousy that takes over. I'd never look at her the same again. Everything she ever did from that day on would always make me suspicious. Jealousy would rule me. Jealousy should never rule anyone. If you can't trust the people in your life, friend or lover, you need to remove that person from your life. You have to remove that person out of your life. Trust, is the only gift we can offer. Friend, lover or stranger! People can trust me. My word is my bond. I let her go,  I really didn't have a choice I would never be the same again. She was gone. She had left a note. It said Sorry! Sorry! We both were. Maurice Yvonne 11~30~2014 Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker Contest Name: The Green-Eyed Monster 
 

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Chopped Too - A Rainforest


Is This Nature's Glory As a quarry? Alone and at peace A life, a new lease I pull up a piece of land Take a little time to mend This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Never can't So I chant Let me meld Forest held Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II ********************************************************* I believe this falls within the 10 to 20 line loose suggestion. This is usually done by the sponsor because it would be difficult to read 35 epic poems and rate them. Because I wanted to create a shape if you count lines as they line up I have more then 20. If I realigned them I would have much less than 20. I believe I stayed within the spirit of the rules. However that is and should be in the hands of the sponsor. I worked very hard towrite this piece for this contest. I loved the process. I have already accomplished everything I wanted to do with this write. I watch the show Chopped all the time.The idea is to be creative with the ingredients. If there is a steak in the basket you better not just cook a steak. The point of the show is using the ingredients creatively never do the obvious. I am happy to have written this piece inspired by the contest. So thank you Craig because I am proud of this write. However below is the ten to twenty line alternative in case you would rather judge it. ********************************************************** Chopped Too - A Rainforest This rainforest trembles An open window in shambles Sitting on my own made porch I fire up a configured torch  Then Lay under, should I say What is like a porch light ray And I wait for that one moth Amongst butterflies sought An unwanted reject Like me ready to eject Take me now in this lush With the roar of death; a hush And I will go, amongst this gift Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift My life to stop the bleeding of the land So I protect this marvel, hold her hand Me alone a window into the future slightly opened We are all just a moth drawn to a porch light penned  13~11~2014 Sponsor : craig cornish Contest Name : Chopped II

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Sleeping With The Enemy

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

See what you want to see.
Don't Look at me!
You are staring you are watching;
Eat what you can't be..

Come sleep by my side.
The whole world is our playground..
Don't make a sound..
Stop clowning around

In the mist of the night,
You keep me from crying

I wipe off the taste of your lips.
You kiss me starting at my inner hips.
You broke me in a way..
I hate to say your love is better every day 
I deny you, the one thing I can't say.

You are my pillow.. 
Where I rest my legs,
Can you feel me~
This moment feels right
I just want to die here, 
Die here ~ 
Die here by your side..

I sleep with my eyes wide open,
I sleep with the enemy by my side
Come here and hold me..
After you watched my worlds collide..
Come here and love me..
I'm yours till the end of time...
You can rock me!
Under the moon and its rhyme..
I put it all to a side, how I hate you inside.
I can't let go,,
I just want you to know, 
I'm a fool in love with you..
Even if it doesn't show!

~ SKAT~
12- 7- 10

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

My Song

~Not Like Me~

When you were first put into my arms,
I begged God, to make you nothing like me
For my sins, ask for no transformation
This is my song, my meditation

Look at my face
Where has it all gone,
You no longer desire to be a part my song

Look at my life, 
The toll, hasn't been paid
I'm the one suffering everyday

The vengeance of eternal flames, 
  sit near the empty hearth
Burning my needs to hold you once more,
I need you more than you'll ever know

Now Look at me, I'm 53 and have no where to go
Everyone I know, awaits in a place of gold
Unlike you, you're too busy growing old 
------ Not Like Me!!!

Singing a song, that accentuate's the mind,
I have no one to blame, I neglected all the signs
Hoping the rain would slowly die off

Today here I lay, wondering where I went wrong
I implored God, to cause you nothing like me
I have a heart that forgives, and tries to forget
I kneel, and I give, and I treat others with respect
My compassion, I measured in the poorest way

I judged my life worse than the others did 
Now why did I ask ---- Not Like Me!
For my sins, ask for no translation
This is my song, my speculation

The dreaded conclusion of this song, 
All I can say, "Be careful what you ask for."
At the end, all I can say, I got what I asked for
Someone, who's Not Like Me.........................

:)

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

IT'S OVER

You thought you’d make a fool of me
I was so blind but now I see
So now you’ve had your little joke
Guess I’m just warning other folk

You’d look at me with those bedroom eyes
But your tender words I now despise
You broke my heart through and through
Well honey I’ve got news for you

Your designer clothes are now in rags
Packed up inside black plastic bags
Your cars been scratched and it’s got a dent
Your names been taken off the rent

You love to flirt, but you’re a cheat
You’re just like a dog on heat
But I’m now aware of your little game
No man will hurt me ever again

Don’t get taken in by charming men
They use you and just start again
From now on I am in control
Hey man you’re just an asshole

Jan Allison
24th July 2014

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

BASTARD

"All Children Are Beautiful"

His heart of white deep, shallow wells, yet beautiful
He smirks a grin, with an ego that won't let me in' -he's beautiful
Bastard, of beauty, running ashes without a name
A face with no claim, a young man pounding from shame 
What is his sin, he's beautiful!
I want to breathe from his ashes, swim through his veins
I want him to come inside my light, like a good dame

I sing and tell a tale, A Bastard through the night
His eyes, I waged, I was young and poor, I was saved
Lying down, in the arms of my white knight
My hair, he caressed, he came in my light
The furnace burned, the night was fast becoming trite
A lover, he did it well, then went back to his wife
A moment so golden, the ages live, his son is born

Another Bastard brought into this world

By: PD

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

The Ripping

You ripped me 
One word at a time
Shredded my smile
Pulled at my sensitivity
I was never strong enough 
To pull back my paper heart

You took the pieces of me
Arranged them in your perfect order
I prayed for the wind to come
Hoping I would be carried away
Flutter to a new more loving home
Instead, I endured your paper cuts 

I became your paper mâché 
Shaped into the image of you
Glued with your inconsistancies
Coated in your endless smoke
Sarcasm and beer
I marinated in your endless tears

You painted me with a retarded label
Your stupid failure of a son
Forced to endure that brush
It was with your eyes I learned to see
Everyone else was better than me
I was a failure times three

My inside empty
I became light as air
As time went on I ceased to care
It happend slowly you weren't aware
Until one day I floated past your stare
No longer raw and bare

I clawed and ripped
Rewrote my page
My renaissance 
coming of age
Not your puppet on a stage
Contorted by your rage

I have lost you to your death
The air much clearer, still I feel your breath
Within my doubts your lies still hide
Yet within me a new strength resides
Your image of me no longer applies
Doubt and fear reduced in size
No longer your "DUMMY" 
On faith I rise

For Charlotte's contest, heart and soul confessional.
Written, September 1st 2014.







Details | Betrayal Poem | |

MY BRIGHT DAY

He said he loved 
And said he cared
On my darkest day
Said he'd be there
The clouds moved in
The sky grow black
Never said goodbye
He never came back
Rain turned to tears
And fears to dread
Hope seemed lost
Dreams were dead
Last gasp prayer
The sun rose again
You walked by me
With a friendly grin
Ten years passed
And I'm your wife
We have two kids 
And a wonderful life
Been through storms
You didn't walk away
On darkest nights
You're my bright day

12-13-14

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Gone again

He disappears again. Can't say that I'm surprised
I know he thinks when he comes home, that hell be chastised
But I won't say a word cause I'm all out breath
Sick from pacing round in circles like I'm high on meth

I know it's pointless to try to talk to you
So many promises, so little follow through
With words, there's no denying, you're the master
But what starts as hopefulness, ends in disaster

There's this place for you, I made inside of me
Cut a hole inside my heart where only you would be
Safe and protected, by my love so strong
I thought you'd never leave but baby, I was wrong

You walked away from me, you left so long ago
Now that part of me? It's dark and hollow
Tried to replace you but nothing fits the hole
Sometimes your body's here but it's missing the soul

And I've laid awake, so many nights that I lost count
You've taken so much, I lost track of the amount
All the times I needed you and you were absentee?
Why can't you go back to who you used to be?

But I can't change a man who never even was
The jokes on me. Clap clap, applause.
You fooled me once so shame on you
Fooled me 5000? Shame on me too.

And even as I write this rhyme
I know I'll never find the time
To tell you that I've had enough
To just get out, to pack your stuff

I know that when you do come back
You'll say you're sorry, you went off track
And then you'll string words one by one
Til I'm enchanted by the phrase you spun

I'll wear your lies like fine jewelry
And we'll both live blissful in foolery

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

TOLERANCE

                         TOLERANCE

I have little tolerance for tolerant people.
Those that will endure the corruption of
the truth, the erosion of meaning.  While at
the same time being intolerant of your
opinions, thoughts, and level of tolerance.

There is a quote attributed to Voltaire:
“I disapprove of what you say, but I will
defend to the death your right to say it.”

How many of the “tolerant” would be willing
to fight for our right to “disapprove of what
they say”?  Hush the crowd so that we might
be heard?  Unblock their ears and hearts and listen?

Does the present day “tolerance”
lack tolerance, lack understanding,
lack the ability to endure a voice that
is not in tune, does not sing the same 
song, does not pray the same prayer?

Or do they tolerate, put up with, the “fool”,
while denying acceptance of his opinions,
his beliefs.  Perhaps the fool is more tolerant than they.
Listening to what they say, watching how they
carry themselves, interact with those “different”
than themselves.

For they think him a “fool”, because they do
not know that he thinks, what he thinks,
and most sadly, they do not care to know.
They will tolerate his presence but not allow
him to be present, listen to his voice yet hear
nothing, speak of equality while lauding their
position, education, power over him.

For they are tolerant only of themselves,
of their ideas, their thoughts, their peers,
their alleged - equals.

They disapprove of us, and what we say,
and will defend their right to keep it so.

John G. Lawless – 6/9/2014 

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

YESTERDAY I CRIED

Why, Momma, why?
Was I not deserving 
of you?
Was I not good?  
Was I too frail?
Did you send me away
Because your own life 
derailed?

Why, Momma, why
Do I still secretly wail?
Asking myself what did I do so 
wrong? How did I fail?

What you called rebelliousness
Was the only way I knew how 
to stay strong sometimes, I'd 
stay up all night looking after you
Got banged and bruised so that 
he wouldn't hurt you

No one else did that
Isn't it true?
Did you ever think about my wounds
That was the only way I knew to
protect you

Instead of helping me 
You banished me through lies,
Stripped me from my home,
My siblings, my life

Withheld your love
Because I tried to take my own life
But did you ever stop and think that
Perhaps something in me wasn't right?

Why, momma, why?
Does your absence whisper in me
A forever sorrowful lullaby and
Although, I miss you I love you more 
each day that goes by

I forgive you wholeheartedly
Despite that yesterday, I cried
I wouldn't hesitate to wipe
The tears from your eyes if they 
ever again were to meet with mine

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Blacklisted

The poet Marshall Mathers
whilst "Cleaning Out My Closet"
blasted with inquiry-

"Have you ever been hated on or discriminated against?
I have...''

Interesting enough
in these crooked times
it is impossible to make a man like you,
or your art,  
especially with unbounding determination.

Nevertheless,
It sure is mighty easy to attain their hatred, 
through no fault of your own. 

When they protest or demonstrate against you...
finally you have arrived!
That's powerful!

Common sense says, 
"Never drive in the rear view mirror!" 

Though, it sure is helpful to take a quick glance back
periodically
to check out Jealousy, 
back there 
doubting and shouting and eating your dust!

Take a whiff...
Listen...
AHHHH....

The band begins to play ferociously!
Off-key.
Off-color.
Slander Slogans pasted upon your face.

Furthermore,
Suddenly, 
Systematically...
like roaches with lights bright,
they disappear into the night, 
back to the slums;
begging for crumbs.

Once you've been Blacklisted;
Swallow.
Digest the miracle.
Pure, glowing gold
the alchemy of their anger,
visibly discernable from the glossy pyrite 
appearing with fake praise.

Heed the old adage:
---------------Keep yir' friends close, and enemies closer.

Their futile harm repels from the Teflon donning your heart.

Envy
burns bold, boils, 
melts and cools, then cold,
forging the sword.

Adding to your arsenal.

Stumble not 
upon bone fragments,
brittle blacklist bandits... 
the Catacombs of those
who aimed to defame your name,
staking claim for their 
shameless sea of debris
and Rotten Forgottens 
which only bolster your begotten flame.

Remain steadfast, undaunted

                           TROUNCE THOSE TREACHEROUS TROUBLES;
________________________           TO            ________________________
                            MARCH THROUGH THE RIGOROUS RUBBLE!

*Heads High,
Let me see those eloquent eyes!~JsL    



~Inspired by written words of Marshall Mathers, Cleaning Out My Closet, 
Shady Records~

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Unrequited Love

The love I felt exists no more
I can’t believe we’re no more
Darling how can this even be
Don’t you even care and see

I sleep at night in such hopeless torment
My soul inside crying tears of sad lament
I once felt at the very pinnacle of my life
Now I hang my head only in fear and strife

The feeling, passion, and warmth are now all gone
We had such fun in love and life, now that’s gone
My hopes and emotions are awash in this strife
My desires and dreams are gone now in my life 

I gave you all my love Darling straight from my heart
And you returned nothing Darling from the very start
My soul now cries so sadly in a most horrible hellish fire
Knowing my love remains unrequited and my soul on fire

The love I felt exists no more
I can’t believe we’re no more
Darling how can this even be
Don’t you even care and see

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany 
(November 1, 2014) (Rhymed Lyric poetic format)

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Curse the Hour

I’ll not be the mask of your madness
I’ll not be the whip of your demands
I’ll not be the drug of your habit
I’ll not be the dough in your hands

I’ll not be the doll that’s your play thing
I’ll not be the container of your need
I’ll not be the victim of your anger
I’ll not be the object of your greed
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ll the bread that he feeds on
I’ll be the water that he drinks
I’ll be the cloud that he walks on
I’ll be the thoughts that he thinks

I’ll be the tent that he dwells in
I’ll be the heaven that he dreams
I’ll be the angel that he wants
I’ll be the sparkle in his stream

I'll be the star that he follows
I'll be the sun’s warmth on his chest
I'll be the moon that allures him
I'll be the treasure of his quest

I'll be the fairy of his woodland
I'll be the seductress of his need
I'll be the breast that he lies on
I'll be the dogma of his creed

I’ll be the honey that he savors
I’ll be the dessert that he craves
I’ll be the sea that he dips in
I’ll be the virgin he enslaves
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I would have been all that to you
I gladly would have made you king
But you gave all that to another
Now you must taste my bitter sting

You must watch his hands caress me
You must see his mouth devour
You must hear my sighs of pleasure
You must curse the betrayal hour

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Vincent

July 29, 1890

Colored dabs and swatches
crave artist’s practiced hand.
Justice, nearly blind, yet watches—
unwrought art upon a stand.

Regard the brushes in a row—
the palettes and the sponges.
Genius maimed by status quo,
vain a hope that fate expunges.

Guttered myriad lifelong dreams—
in desperate ruination.
Fading now the muffled screams
of self-inflicted termination.

Time Passes

Abruptly then adoring praise—
contrived their sudden expertise.
Rude cabal who would appraise—
byzantine their guileful sleaze.

Each masterpiece a servant
of craven yearn and greed.
Bang the gavel, swift and fervent;
sate purveyors’ inveterate need.

Justice now is truly blind;
vanished those She would impute.
His final piece is left unsigned;
She’ll not disclose, for now She’s mute.

Inspired by Don McLean's song, Starry Starry Night

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

What Annoys Me

                     What Annoys Me.

         The Wedding of Rubbish and Nonsense.

Dearest readers; Please stand, for the big day has arrived
The knot be tied, the vows be said, the promises contrived
Master of Ceremonies me, so first I’ll read the list
Of honoured guests as they arrive and each one falsely kissed

The banquet hall is decked, to dazzle and amaze
Bright silver, all the glitz, no doubt in hope of praise
Rubbish waits in patience, the collective to appear
Sweet Nonsense has excuses, if they fail, a ready tear

Along comes Decency, who sways this way and that
With Truth, who wears first one, and then another hat
Trotting by their side, their eldest son Deceit
A wilful little sod, a torture to defeat

Ah, Mr Racist Bigot: Will his head fit through the door?
He thinks in black and white, a tinge of yellow nothing more
Along with wife Supremacy, they both deaf, dumb and blind
For in their hearts there is no room, for any other kind

Enter Gold, with pockets bulging, watch him saunter in
With lady friend upon his arm, covered in his bling
Closely followed by, all who fall within his creed
Miss Digger, Mr Want-it All, Mr and Mrs Greed

In dodders dear old Justice, half asleep and slow to stir
He does his best to read between the lines that humans blur
He sits in judgement of the bad, but come let’s be precise
Too often does the gavel fall, for those who pay his price

In come the politicians slyly fighting for first place
Who look you in the eye, then lie straight at your face
Drunk with power, untouchable, sound bites, speeches, buzz
He’ll do this; she’ll do that, gets in, then never does

So if you ask me what annoys, expect an icy blast
Just a few are above, o’er which your eye has cast
Before I go we’ll look at those, who did not make the list
While all the selfish bas**rds there make merry and get pi**ed

Lurking close is Poverty with millions in his grip
Those displaced by war, out on a Nowhere Trip
The old, the sick, future faced with solemn Resignation
Another life consumed in the belly of Starvation

Still Rubbish marries Nonsense as they have from the start
With promises and vows, tied to a knotted heart
And so the celebrations, with back slaps they conclude
When everybody waves their arms and sing, ‘Hey Jude’.


In the Catholic Church, Jude, the patron saint of lost causes.

For Frank’s Contest
What Annoys You.
































Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Speak Not to Me

Speak not to me of love, I cannot bear to hear
The fervent pleas you stoop to whisper in my ear
Speak not to me proclaiming staunch fidelity
Or how you will adore me through eternity

Speak not of how your love is stronger now by far
Than what it was before, so I must lift the bar
Speak not in vows about your transformed purity 
Of how you swear to worship me, and only me

I've heard confessions of this sort quite oft before,
No proof are they of love, I'll show you now the door
My heart has bled enough, I want the pain to end
Our love has run its course, why must I now pretend

While you were loving her, he started loving me
My broken heart he healed and showed me ecstasy
The shroud of pain you gave, he turned to joyous gown
My head with kisses wreathed and gifted me a crown

His ravished all the places unbeknownst to you
Each fantasy he played, each dream he made come true
His tongue, it sweetly roamed to each delicious place
Our bodies fused in rhythm, lost to time and place 

Speak not of sad regrets and turning back in time
Of seeking to recapture love that was sublime
Each night he speaks to me in passion's lovely rhyme
With heart and soul I speak and tell him he is mine!

For Georgio V's Iambic III Contest
This is written in Iambic hexameter
October 6, 2014
Eileen Manassian




Details | Betrayal Poem | |

The Story of the Grand Piano

She was a grand piano: grand in structure, grand in beauty, grand in quality 
of sound. She had captured the heart of every pianist who had come to play in 
the great hall. Once they touched her keys…they fell in love with the 
celestial sounds that resonated from her core.

He was a grand musician, adept at playing several instruments. Music was 
what made him come to life…his passion seen in the swaying of his body as he 
became enraptured in the sounds. He came looking for her, having heard of 
her perfection, and once he touched her, he was captivated. 

Night after night the hall was packed with music lovers who came to hear him 
play, but they also came to feast their eyes for when he sat there at the 
piano…it was almost as if he were in the throes of passion. She made him 
pour and release his inner soul in notes that vibrated and pulsated within 
every listener’s heart. Passion redefined.

His fame spread.  He spent hours every day…sitting there on the stage, 
caressing her keys, making her do his bidding…moving her to a forte 
crescendo…and then another, soothing her with pianissimo after the 
storm of passion was spent. 

When did it happen? When had the restlessness taken hold? He couldn’t 
remember a specific moment, but at night…after the concerts were over, and 
he was there in his room, he would dream of traveling again, and he’d think of 
the Stradivarius he had seen for sale in the most renowned music store in 
Europe, a store right beside the grand hall. She was a beauty…sleek, 
streamlined, shapely, and after he had touched and fondled her, heard the 
noise he could bring to life with his flexible fingers, he knew…the time had 
come to say goodbye.

All his savings and more went into purchasing that Stradivarius that fit 
snuggly under his chin. He could travel with her. She was…lightweight, easy to 
carry. She was not stationary.....heavy. 

It was the last concert, and he gave that piano his all. The audience sensed a 
difference in the man. The room was electrified with the notes of a passion in 
bursting from the fusion of man and instrument. The piano had never sounded 
so angelic, sweet, replete with every nuance of a lover’s dream. Something 
seemed to be tugging at the pianist's heart for before he took his bow, they 
saw his eyes wet with tears. 

Years passed, his fame grew. He was now known as the master violinist....the 
shining star among his contemporaries...one of a kind. He was happy and 
famous. He was traveling….light. His Stradivarius was his to finger and play 
with every night, a perfect mistress, a perfect muse, yet why…why did he find 
himself back in the hall after all this time? He stood there aghast, for all he 
could see on the stage was the old janitor, sweeping the floor. “Where is she?” 
he demanded. 

The janitor squinted at him, trying to remember, and then he gave a sad 
smile. “Why…didn’t you hear? It was in all the papers. After you left, 
something went terribly wrong with that grand piano.  All the notes kept 
coming out wrong. It didn’t matter who sat down to play, and to tell you the 
truth, some of those pianists were even better than you, or so I heard said. 
Nothing sounded right. They brought professional tuners. Everything seemed 
alright, but…the music, the music lacked….life. She couldn’t get fixed and so, 
in the end….she was sold for scrap pieces to a carpenter who hacked her into
pieces to use for firewood.”

The musician stood there, tears streaming down his face. She had been 
heavy, her maintenance difficult, her stationary heart, unmovable. He had 
longed to travel light…to relish minimum maintenance demands, to travel far 
and wide, like a feather on the breeze…airy and light…oh, so light, but could 
someone be found who could explain to him the extreme leaded heaviness in 
his heart that rooted him, immovable, to the spot where once a beautiful 
grand piano had stood.

Eileen Manassian

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

Remains

Revenge sweet turning with hate
a brother rises striking blows 
landing hits brother in wicked deeds 
evilness within mans own soul

Cruelty crawling inside desires 
suffering greed of nations they plea 
Rise up against nations man at war 
tearing asunder God's creation 
People slowly murdering loveless

Pride a sinful act of violence 
laced with pain destroying pure love 
everything that once stood out housed peace
so fine cut beautiful, good sharing 
caring  free, in this one, big show rolls 

Keeps turning, the wheel of hope 
whom will speak, as we all become part 
of his heavenly dust in the end 
or  burning remains of hell's fire

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

HE'S OUT OF MY LIFE

LOOSELY BASED ON THE MICHAEL JACKSON SONG SHE’S OUT OF MY LIFE

He’s out of my life
Because he’s got a wife
And I don’t know whether to laugh or cry
If I see him now I’d whack him in the eye
But if I had a knife
I’d pass it on to his wife

He would hold my hands
We’d make love on the sands
To think for two years he was here
He had the best of both worlds now he lives in fear
So I better not expand
Or I’ll soon be on remand!

So I’ve learned that I’m not his possession
And I’ve learned that this guy I hate
Now he’s gone and I’ve got depression
But I’ve learned too late

He's out of my life
Gone back to his wife
Guess I loved him but found out he lied
If I get my hands on him I’ll end up inside
And it cuts like a knife
But the rat is out of my life

Jan Allison
10th August 2014

Details | Betrayal Poem | |

for our collaboration cheater-tim smith

Absent for three days, not more, not less,
Do you have something you want to confess?

I see that you've been getting around,
Leaving your ink prints all over this town.

Jan, Charmaine, Seren and even Mystic,
Has there been others your words did lick?

Passionate words, humor, and even sweet,
You've given out your candy, say trick or treat.

I thought while I was away, your pen was in your pocket.
But you found other home runs, out of the ball park you knock it.

Don't get me wrong this isn't poetic wife jealous,
I just wish that you would have invited me!

I would have taken pictures, just say cheese,
We could have all written poems about birds and bees.

Tim I hope you used poetic protection while I was away,
It's good to see you have the stamina to write it your way.

Ladies get your hands on Tim, now while the gettings good,
And Tim keep your pencil sharp is that understood!



Details | Betrayal Poem | |

My end is now

When I was growing up,
Daily they packed my outgrown:
Shoes, shirts,suits and trousers;
And paid me commendation
As they milled around me
Like night ants around light!

When I was geisha-guy
And my frame was fame
And my gaiety  was deity
Oh they milled around me
Like day ants around rose

When worker I was
And my table was the host
To all that delighted belly 
Oh they rounded me about
Applauded me with their belch
After my grain and grape.

Now my hairs are white
And my frame is gone
My teeth have left
Sight is dim, hearing is poor;
How quick they dessert me
Like a cinema after the show.

It is home alone
As they call me demented
The brats that once me hailed
No one to tell goodbye
Sad today I must go
My end is now.


Details | Betrayal Poem | |

AMONGST THE TREES

In the trees the voices whisper, the orbs dance in the swirling mists,
The ethereal winds brush against the living and the undead here cry in 
Valley of discontent.
Twisted are the branches, banging, slamming at the brickened walls,
As many hands smack at the glass within, a prison of spiritual essence,
Death is just another level of existence.
Within the Winchester house, many souls scream in the darkness,
Corporeal beings shift from light to dark, phantoms walk in these haunted
Halls, lightly stepping from earth to air.
From the blood of the fallen innocent do these bricks bleed, build from
Mankind’s greed has this foundation been so built, a cursed vision of 
A tortured old woman, seeking redemptions release from the invention
Of the powder and the gun.
In labyrinth’s maze shadows fade, as if melting ice though hard wooden
Floors and evaporating between solid beams, these victims of life shades,
Have come here to find a solitudes refuge.
At the stroking of mid-nights tolling hour, hear the ancient organ play,
As invisible finger tips strike at the ivory keys, doesn’t the candle stick light
Without combustions fuel, igniting the blue-green flame it flickers without the
Winds breathe.
Softly skeletal remains play, calling the forsaken unto this entrapment of hells
Divine cell of impurities unkempt, its stench lingering in the breeze oozing
Downwards through hallways, and corridors leading unto know where.
The grandfather clock chimes it’s twelfth’s bong, she so comes forward 
Dressed in blackened lace, a white faced vision of opulence elegance, the lady
Of this residence, trying to give thee a personal invite, turn away mortal flesh
If you believe that she is not real, keep strongly woven within thy faiths cocoon.
But on the back bone of reality, a disembodied hand touches your shoulder,
As a chilly rush accelerates your inner ward heart beat, shall you then be brave
Enough to turn around, or has your courage left you alone to face such evil.
But all here belong, and there is no escape, now you amongst the dead you’ve
Found the uneasy peace of the after life at last.
No white light magically enchantment can break the spell, for too many lost 
Souls are woven within this tapestry of darkness; she lives this widow maker,
A spider known as Mrs. Winchester.
In the trees the voices whisper, the orbs dance in the swirling mists, 
The ethereal winds brush against the living and here the undead cry
In the valley of discontent.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN