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Details | Innocence Poem | |

Money-God

Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.

Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.

People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.

Godless? 
With or without the words, 
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God, 
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.

The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.

If I had been given the chance, 
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.

When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....

....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.

If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within, 
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.

Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling 
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.

Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.

If I had been given the chance -- past tense....

....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,

until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.







December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S:  28 - 2 = 26




January 7th, 2013




.

Details | Innocence Poem | |

THE BROKEN DOLL

Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
 Protective
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
 Shame,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
 Kindred,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
 Oblivion.
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
 Thoughts.
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
 Adrift,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
 Wreckage.
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Una and the Lion

This world of trouble soon will pass
For there beyond the crystal glass
A lamb and lion tread the grass
Beside a lass, beside a lass

This cord of present time shall break
And hate and fear shall flee and quake
Oh, may all vice this earth forsake!
And love awake! And love awake!

Oh, see him walk 'neath mighty trees!
The king of beasts; what strength and ease!
Yet now content this lass to please
Her hand to tease, her hand to tease

Behold! A pleasant form and face!
The child of beauty crowned with grace!
Fair Una treads at even pace
A better place, a better place


~ The form is Monotetra~
~Based on the painting 'Una and the Lion' by Briton Riviere. Here is a copy and paste link.
http://19thcenturybritpaint.blogspot.com/2012/12/briton-riviere-ctd.html

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Because

I was a fool.

I was a fool searching for reasons why.

Reasons why I
Grin with sudden boy giggles

As if Karma was my DJ,
Playing cotton candy woven riffs
Of rhythmic whispers

Evermore

Everlong

I savor dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms
Tasting her sincerity
With each Pacific Ocean observance
Her dialect portrays within
My sunset smiles

I was a fool.

A slightly nervous kid
At his first Sadie Hawkins dance

Holding a paper cup 
filled with swirly colored punch...
...not spiked

;-)

Futile attempts to stifle these vibrating legs
From crippling my exhaling urges

I was a fool.

Searching for irreplaceable reasons
Why my smiles became
An 11 year old innocence

I smile.
I blush.

I embrace a new dream
Written on embossed bucket list

To hold her 

To hold her

To hold her
towards sunrises’ incipience

One day
With no reasons why

Simply

Because

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Innocence Poem | |

How to give birth

Her pregnant brain shattered on concrete styles
I taught her how to give birth

For decades her brain had no experience
She spoke in giggles 
Baby thoughts crawling away from her sheltered smiles

Voices speaking entrances and exits

Her tears were diluted with words
Coloured to give light to unborn emotions
She was too young to mother her intelligence

With stitches around the scent of her dreams 
She had no clue how to give birth 

Eyes were safeguarded in gloves for any greasy guidance
Sharp blades were spared for surgical opinions

She jumped into conclusions 
Everyone saw what’s between her pen and paper

Her abdomen grew thorns
She lost all her baby poems for she birth only homemade babies
Her pregnancy was a secret

Now she mothers the nation 
I taught her how to give birth
She speaks to them in rapid poems
She mothers the nation in pages

(c) Ray

Details | Innocence Poem | |

I Used To Be a Dreamer

I used to be a dreamer Growing up within my mind, I was no heavy sleeper By creativity confined I used to be a hero One day, and then the next I could've been Jack Sparrow Prancing between the decks I used to live in a circus With carousels and flying cats, I'd muck about without a purpose All day out, with Mr. Tall Hat I used to be a rarity From anyone else, I was unique I used to live in fantasy Believed in fairy tales, even magic Today, I am another person As normal as they define Too scared to be uncommon Afraid to be left behind Today, I live in blunt reality A world of black and white, that outlaws every little oddity and punish them on sight I have been dead before, When they took my dreams away.

Details | Innocence Poem | |

KIDS HAVE EARS THE SIZE OF AN ELEPHANT AND A MOUTH TO MATCH

I read Darryl Ashton’s poem Called Pinocchio Rex and this brought back 
memories of a childhood incident

When I grew up we had a smallholding – the house was called ‘Longacre’ as we 
had over an acre of land.  Over the years we had chickens, pigs named Pinky 
and Porky and a goat called Susie… she had kids called Billy and Nanny – guess 
I was no good at names back then… but I digress
Attached to the house was a small village shop but my parents also made a 
small income from selling fresh eggs and in the summer home grown 
strawberries – I would help pick washing baskets of them and bag them up to 
sell.
Every week a little old man would arrive for his dozen eggs and if the shop was 
shut he would ring the doorbell. He wore a pointed felt hat, had steely blue 
eyes and the most enormous nose you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to him 
my parents nicknamed him 'Pinocchio'.
When I was aged about 7 years old the doorbell rang – mum was busy baking 
in the kitchen so I answered it. There in front of me stood this old man wanting 
his eggs. Mum shouted from the kitchen
‘Who is it Janet?’ 
I replied ‘Oh its only Pinocchio’ 
At once mum appeared from the kitchen, her face was the colour of beetroot. 
She apologised for the comment from her ‘cheeky daughter’ The man 
purchased his eggs and walked away – never to return!
The moral of this true tale is that parents ALWAYS tell the truth and that 
children have ears the size of an elephant and a mouth just as big … so if you 
don’t want them to repeat something YOU have said keep it zipped!

Jan Allison
11th August 2014

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Eccentric eyes

Eccentric eyes

He felt her molding in his mind with sorcery and guise;
the gorgeous and deceptive maid, out of his poems leapt
confusion causing in his thoughts her almond eyes of vice,
theatrical eccentric play, and Shakespearean script.

Enchanting her Medusa comb with serpents was so crowned,
two wolfish fangs protruded when her dismal glance she gleamed
her howling lifted in the air as sharp as ultrasound,
abruptly, thus, out of his eyes, eccentric feelings streamed.

In order to enchant the maid, he started dancing jazz
he wore a Capri pair of pants and fuchsia polo shirt
behind his ear a daisy bore, with splendor and pizzazz,
his smile allowed three golden teeth to shine virile and pert.

Eccentric was his dance for her, outside the discotheque
with eyes that squinted humorous, he jumped par amor'
the serpents twisted happily and hissed to bedeck
the Saturday performance of his sandals on the floor.

Delighted was her evilness, the snakes their eyes then crossed
because his eccentricity prevailed in logic since
his golden teeth the creatures stunned, ensorcelled and embossed,
and in the maiden's frozen heart, he was transformed to Prince.

© 2014-10-06, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic heptameter)



Details | Innocence Poem | |

Angels of Destiny

Angels of destiny, sunk in empty eyes so clear,
Angels of destiny, every day your fate so near.
Seldom has your little face been graced with a smile
Nothing strikes you funny as you search the garbage pile.

These angels are babies, little babes without a bed.
Every day their hands held out for just one piece of bread.
Dreams of hoping something, anything would be more fare
Praying maybe someone, anyone might care.

Poor poor angels I would love to give much more,
But I'm too busy keeping up with the guy next door.
I wish he hadn’t bought that new boat down at the bay,
Now I'll have to save to buy a bigger one some day

Angels of destiny sentenced to a life of fears,
Angels of destiny, I will just leave you my tears.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.09.2014
Contest The Poet II
Gautami Phookan
Theme: Leave you my tears
6th

Details | Innocence Poem | |

The Loss of Innocence

I remember…

Shimmering gold ribbons
Draped over the 
Glassy surface of the bay of Fundy
On a black see through
Summer night


I was new to love
Shy beneath your penetrating gaze
At a loss for words

And you…
Telling me my eyes spoke volumes
And the tears that welled up in them 
Against my will
Eventually falling over the edge of innocence
Into adolescence 
As your whispers
And my sighs
Melted on the rippling crest 
Of  those waves
That came softly 
To break upon the shore
As the pale moon looked down 
In utter silence

Author:  Elaine George
Written: June, 2014


Details | Innocence Poem | |

Wild Passion

She’s wild, a passionate heart of love inspired Playing a violin, masterful and free So fast and fierce, her every lust is desired Violin sparks aflame burning intensely She screams with pleasure of the fire’s indulgence Peak of passion has reached beyond innocence Her mouth open with flames entering inside She loves her tremendous trek, her awesome ride Russell Sivey Happy Valentines Day

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Nurse Anne

            Nurse Anne

Snow steeped in mountains and mountains steeped in snow
Evergreens and pine trees hold the earth with purpose
Nurse Anne steps into hospital from brutal winter cold
Measures stethoscopes and takes gentle pulses
Takes care of bullet wounds and children on her rounds
Wears white, green or blue uniforms or gowns while working
That’s pure speculation as you know
Nurse Anne is not a lawyer according to close sources
She writes poetry on line, refines them in her leisure time
Her prescription for good health and life is simple
Eat vegetables, fishes and less meat
Most importantly, Breath, (it helps a lot) 
Take moderation in everything
Get plenty of rest and sleep
And if you can’t be intelligent or stay on your toes
At least stay on your feet
Naturally a life spent vertically is not advised
Nurse Anne wants us all to exercise 
She will help you to get by and back to skiing
With her good guidance and by being wise
She does her noble work then travels home
Returns to evening
To writing poems at her own leisure

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Secreted Jewels

We dared meet
in clandestine disguise
behind an overlay of water

Secreted
from watchful eyes peering
amid crystalline dancing droplets

Our first kiss
concealed from lurking eyes
extracting  jewels of youthful joy

Rainbow arks,
captured floating crowning’s,
appearing and captivating gems

©Debra Squyres  
   10/31/14

For Member Contest: “Some Form of Crystalline”
Sponsored by: Nette OnCloude
Form: Parallelogram de Crystalline created by Karan Naidu

Details | Innocence Poem | |

To Endear Me To You

What more can I do to endear me to you?
How can I endlessly draw your gaze?
How might I incline your heart to be mine,
To reside beside mine, always?

You might have guessed that you are my Muse—
The source of all my inspirations.
I’m doing my best to respond to your clues
To permanently win your affections.

Each song that I sing, each verse that I rhyme,
Are meant to attract your attentions.
Each bouquet that I bring, endless time after time, 
Are just my endearing enduring expressions.      

My soul’s compass always points towards you,
Pulled by more than just mere attraction.
My life is in focus, and my sky’s brightest blue
When I am searching in your direction.

What more can I do to endear me to you?
How can I cement your gaze?
What must I refine to call your heart mine,
That our paths may entwine, always.


Inspired by the song CHERISH by the group The  Association.

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Babes Love

                                             Magnificent life
                                 Wondrous feeling of babes love
                                      Nestle between breasts

                                       By eve roper   11/9/2014

Details | Innocence Poem | |

THE ICE FAWN

Rarest of beauty is she the ice fawn, 
Grazing within the ice meadows in crystal
Fields of frozen cloves, as the star lights
Flicker in brilliance shinning, all about her.
A shy creature of gentleness, made of ice
And snow, unique amongst the polarized canvas,
Alone in perfections glittering diamond dust, 
Of winter’s mystical enchantments.
Drinking from the pools of the moon,
Warmed by the twinkling shades of the rays,
Casted in the Aurora Borealis of the northern 
Pastures, beyond mankind’s encroachment.
Creations gathering of angel tears shed 
In tender moments of truest grace, was 
She this miracle thus was so made,
The ice fawn.
Chamber lights living Kalightoscope, a prism of
Dear shine, walking in splendors white ice.
A mystical being of opulence’s elegance, splashed
By the divine plate array, and brushed by the wings
Of the ethereal angelic.
A sparkling gem, a jewel of winter, with the
Soft brown eyes of clarity, behold the ice fawn
In all her glittering glory, walking in freedoms
Sacred Valley of the human imagination.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



Details | Innocence Poem | |

God's Dying Sky

Man's made sky.
The sky's known beginning and unknown ending.
I look to the sky because I'm interested about the unknown.
I should look to the sky for answers I all ready know.
Sometimes I find myself giving the sky a quick gaze.
Then three hours later, find myself in a complete confused daze.
Is this caused from my interest about the unknown.
Or by subconsciously soul searching for answers I all ready know.
The adventurous flow of the sky brings me much needed hope.
Especially when man has the world headed towards a down spiral slope.
Sometimes while focused on the sky, in some type of trance like steer.
All I can feel, is its man's created fear.
Thoughts of how it was once so pure and how now oil based waters brings no cure.
Man's made sky.
the sky's known beginning and unknown ending.

American Ocean Billy's  ( black gold that is ) 6-3-2010

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Atonement

free in a moment
but everyone wants it
a single second
oh so pleasant

now its gone
life rages on
here's the war
join the corps

there's the pain
that keeps us sane
the toll of death
taking every last breath

the innocence of youth
the freest of any moment
leaving now just the truth
maturity is your atonement

Details | Innocence Poem | |

For the Guilty

She is always an innocent soul

   she is welcomed the earth

   over she goes;

To sit among flowers wide

   with love in her eyes,

   sitting on old shoals ----

Her feet dipped in the foam of evening tide,

   washing away her fears 

   in the white little waves....

And marigolds to fix her self esteem,

   picked every eve in a wee-quaint-glade,

   little Cinderella slippers,

   cotton candy knickers;

Innocence sits among the flowers wide

   with love in her eyes,

   (and she is unafraid)

Details | Innocence Poem | |

HEAVEN IS THIS

once,
maybe?
just once in a lifetime 
you touch,
brush,
less than a touch,

maybe just maybe
once in a lifetime
you are close enough to greatness
to almost feel it

but you don’t
because with greatness 
true greatness
comes 
humility.

the moment is one 
no one but you recognizes
it is a hug
from the person
who held up that sign
what seems now
like an eon ago.

the sign said

help!

you could have walked away
turned a blind eye
but
that person
without a word
is inside your head
the voice 
is clear
"it’s the right thing to do"
echoes in your mind 
as if your skull 
were the Grand Canyon

so,

you do it.

you sacrifice everything
and you do it.

you help

and when your deed is complete
when it is all said and done
that person hugs you
when it is all said and done
you hug that person

and for that moment
you feel less than space between you and it 
and you know it is greatness
but in your humility
as quick as you think it
it is gone.

but you are changed forever more
and you know
heaven is this
no high from any other source
will ever be the same

because

you’ve just stepped up 
the rungs of your ladder
and there is no crash 
from this high.

you are on a new plateau
and it is higher
and it is lower

because

with greatness
true greatness
comes humility. 


Details | Innocence Poem | |

A Forest Child

She has eyes that have seen all the sky
a smile that is both knowing and shy
Her brow is humble and also proud
Expressions as soft as a shifting cloud.

She is tall and frail like a river reed
Up until now the forest has been her creed
And words that once flowed like a river stream
Now she must search for what they mean

Where once the forest taught her each simple rule
Now she is thrust  to study in a Western school
So her body conveys her intentions devout
She stays rooted despite her desire for flight

She absorbs new knowledge like sunlight itself
All her tears are like rain on this hard gained wealth
This shy forest spirit has blossomed and grown
 In quiet moments we know where her thoughts have flown



This is my friend's daughter they adopted from Thailand at age 11.
In one year she was speaking fluent English.
She received-american-veterans jrotc-cadet--outstanding-cadet-award/ last year.
Only one cadet per detachment receives the award annually.
She is also a girl guide and on the Volley Ball Team.
I taught her papercrafts and she makes all her own beautiful greeting cards.
She is a true example of a girl rising.
She misses her sister in Thailand who was kept by the family and often thinks of them all
and is torn between the two worlds but understands she has more opportunity here.

Details | Innocence Poem | |

I Do Believe

"I Do Believe" 

The purpose of LIFE is to {Living In Faith Ever} 
to enrich God within us 
to an optimum level 
so that We as Humans 
can be guided by God 
to fuel out brothers and sisters 
with the same driving force 
to connect with the living God, 
to His existence and 
to See the Invisible, 
Believe the Incredible, and 
to Receive the Impossible 
to our everlasting journey 
to Heaven.

Rev. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com

Details | Innocence Poem | |

MORE THAN A SIGNIFICANT OTHER - IAMBIC METER

MORE THAN A SIGNIFICANT OTHER - IAMBIC METER!

“Come live / with me / and be / my love.”

I ask of you this because you are my ultimate desire.
I refuse to hide it when you see it in my eyes.
My mind is in a dreamlike state blowing kisses at you all of the time.
You never see this because I am shy.
I write you this poem now.

Before I knew you, you knew me.
You would see me standing outside by the fig tree.
You would come to class by yourself.
How do I know this?
Well, your best friend is my best friend as well.
He told me that you had asked who I am.

You are such a wild orchid never going wild - a beautiful flower all the time.
I love to get to know you and fulfill my ultimate desires.
You and I together laid back chilling and comfortable in life, mutually agreeable to the definition of our beings, and most important, knowing our destiny vivaciously.

“Come live / with me / and be / my love.”

User Name: Verlena
Pseudonym(s): Poethics Oblivion Stareyes of Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Motif: Iambic Meter - Rhyme

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Dream, And Dream, And Dream

I'll Dream

. And Dream

. . And Dream

I'll dream until my soul awakes, And it's time for youth to part I'll dream until my passion breaks, And this child's abandoned heart I'll dream a lost and former friend, The innocence I've held to tight Before the colors blur, and blend, I'll dream of who I was tonight Before my tears drip down, and dry, I'll dream with colors pure and gold Before the innocence inside me dies, And childhood is hardened cold I'll dream as if absorbed in youth, Illusion moonlight show'ring light Blind to pain and awful truth, I'll dream of who I was tonight.
10/6/2011 "Dreams"

Details | Innocence Poem | |

Punished

                            ~ Punished~
                        
One evening with her dad she met this man at a bar very
handsome well mannered visiting from England.
After a few visits she started feeling him approaching her 
with nice compliments.

His attention made her fall In love with him
For months he took her out running to the beach 
shouting out loud I love your body i love your eyes
you’ll never belong to nobody but me.
 
On a moonlight night he was holding her so tight 
kissing her lips caressing her tits expressing his 
desire to light up the fire that was burning in their
entire body and soul.

As he was her first this is what she thought at the 
beginning she was very reserved yet she liked the 
fire she was feeling they were new to her his kissing 
was sensuous he smelled lovely he was caressing her
hair while sitting on the sand she was so taken by her
thoughts suddenly she heard.

Oh my darling let me love you my way let me make you 
my woman without any delay I beg you to give up and 
stop the fight I am promising at the same time to marry 
you very soon I will ask your dad that you will become my 
wife next Sunday at soon.

She wanted to believe him her head was spinning her heart
was beating to the sounds of his powerful movements
she was reaching the sky so quickly sensations of ecstasy 
she was feeling with his compliments whispering his love 
to her out loud while she was dreaming of the marriage 
as being lifted up on a carriage listening to the horses 
tapping on the course to the hotel room where they will 
spend their honeymoon as she will become that bride 
at noon.

Before even her dreams were over she felt him suddenly 
role over and ran away with no delay she could not understand
why ? Why? Did he leave with no good-bye.

Not realizing she was undressed hurried to get dressed ran to look 
from side to side asking herself why did he hide he promised me 
to be his bride? even if she was yet a child.

She sat where they loved each other looking at the ocean maybe
he will come back he must he told her he is in love.

Already it was dark in a low voice having no choice she ran 
home straight to her room wiping her running tears and fears
covering her feet to feel some heat and fell asleep not to see
her dad as maybe tomorrow he will come back with an 
explanation to his act. 

Hoping not to be deceived and very soon to be relieved
when he ‘ll knock on their door and swipe her off her feet 
tell her dad to fix their marriage.

She waited for days and days but that day never came 
she knew then it was only a game and she`ll never see 
him again and will never be the same.
                          
That early morning she woke up before her dad to cheer up 
herself for him not to doubt she had maybe made a huge 
mistake.
Having her coffee she pulled the newspaper and screamed
Oh Oh the man she loved was an addicted rapist being 
searched from the Interpol in England, he had convinced 
everybody doctors and nurses that he was cured.

Continuing to read she read his history that he was battling 
addiction of raping teenagers for the past twenty years. Lived
most of the time in jail.
She cried and cried she was raped by an addicted rapist who
was never cured.
                             
She could not eat or drink not knowing what to think 
while running to the sink that’s when she found out 
but couldn’t shout that she was carrying a rapist child. 

Where are you? She thought you were honest
But you were only an ordinary man still battling
your addiction.

Forgive me Oh My God! Her dad
forgave her out of love to his innocent daughter.

She had to keep her child and trusted herself
to bring him up not like his father.
And she did her son became an international lawyer.

   Therese Bacha
      27/5/2013
Contest for PD....Any Poem Goes.