Long poem by
Ed Ebbs | Details |
When I was a chid to survive the streets of Los Angeles without bruises, cuts and possibly your life, you had to size up those approaching by carefully watching each and every move they made; asking yourself if you are a target.
There was this group of older kids were approaching, I remember watching to see if they would take notice of me as I cross over the other side of the street. If they cross over to the other side matching my movements, I'm in trouble. I still remember the feeling of their penetrating eyes; everything inside of me was screaming. I was fortunate to remember the storm sewer at street corner I just passed a few moments ago. Without hesitation I ran for my life. Sliding into the street corner between the sidewalk above and the street below…a few more pounds and I would have been stuck.
This storm sewer basin is a large concrete box with a large concrete pipe in the corner that goes somewhere. The gang members are all around me now preventing any escape swinging their chains, sticks with blades. They act like a pack of dogs yelping and hollering that have their prey is trapped in a corner. They're working on the manhole cover above with a crowbar which would give them access to me below. Fear is now getting the best of me so without much thought I quickly entered the large drain pipe and went deeper into a abyss. This drain pipe connects to a tunnel large enough for a car to pass through.
I hear their voices, so they must have opened that manhole. They’re seem to be following me so I run down the tunnel into the darkness so they would not see me and then stop to listen. I hear no footsteps, but I ran so far I cannot see a thing, there is no light, just nothingness. I start to walk and I bump into a wall. I can’t go back the way I came because the fate that would await me going that direction, but there is nothingness is all around me so I am not sure what direction that would be. I remember running down the left side of the tunnel before stopping to listen.
When I start to walk again and I run into a wall, so that must be the right side, I think? I decide to continue, and being right handed I'm more comfortable on the left side so I turn and walk towards the left side to have something to touch. It seems like an eternity until I finally reach a wall. This wall will become my security from the nothingness...I can’t see my hands or feet, or even hear a sound. There is no frame of reference, only the wall and the solid ground under my feet. Thank God this was a time before those vampire movies or Freddy Krueger; I have only those Alfred Hichcook movies to pull fears from.
Continuing through this nothingness a beam of light begins to appear from above. It’s amazing how much light is coming from this little tiny whole in that manhole cover—it lights up the whole area. I stand there amazed and I take a deep breath in this light, it has been a long journey to this point. Standing there I notice a ladder leading up to a possible escape. Listening carefully before pushing up on the cover, I push and push...I'm not strong enough. Many of the manhole covers are spot welded by the public works department to prevent an open manhole in the middle of a street. I climb down from the ladder and pause for a few moments in the light absorbing what I could before continuing on; this tunnel must lead somewhere, right? Another beam of light, another welded manhole cover. The fear of the gang has long past, my only thoughts now are those of being lost and I am starting to feel hopeless.
I remember a verse I was taught about falling down, the faithful fall down seven times, but they get up again..at least that is how I remembered it. They're words from a Sunday school teacher. I was terrible at remembering scriptures to get those stickers, but I remember what the verses meant. The nothingness continues as I walk, and it has been a long time since the last little beam of light and I have found the meaning of hopelessness. The floor below is beginning to get damp, ick, what am I walking in? I can’t see a thing and I'm too afraid to stop touching the wall to stoop down--the wall is my security. My mind is pretty numb right now, my only thoughts are dragging my hand on the wall wall and walking. The dampness becomes wet, and from wet to splashing. Briefly a moment of fear, I pause to sense if the water is moving; am I going the wrong way and am I about to get swallowed up by a wall of water. The water seems to be static and the nothingness yields no sounds, so I continue.
Finally, salvation from onr of those little beams of light shining from above. Looking down I see little fish in the water below. Oh, I'm headed to the ocean, I'm sure, confidence starts to be renewed. The movie Jaws was years away so there are no fears. The nothingness continues until again there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The wall is no longer my security, I follow the light. The water is at my knees as I continue towards the light. I can smell the ocean and feel a breeze. I can see the ocean and the sand. Sigh, there is a bar screen blocking my exit—I'm feeling defeated, their is no way I can every go back. Looking closely at this bar screen in the way of my freedom, one corner has been pulled away, it’s bent outward under the high tide. There are no other choices really, so I take a deep breath and down I go. My shirt snags on something as I start to reach around to the other side and pull. I struggle, my shirt tears and I am free. Freedom never felt so good. I look around at the beach, it’s rather windy, only a few people walking here and there, but it’s sunny! I turn in a circle to get my bearings, and remembering think to myself that it’s sure great to be alive and free. Months later they’re welding extra bars over these points of escape. I am heavier now, and I would not fit anyway, but I ponder about my escape, what about others that will not. I feel sad for them..
Long poem by
jack oritx | Details |
Stop right there my friend!
For there’s no place in where you can run and hide
So stop and listen
Listen to the voices warning you to go back
Screaming out to beware of the horror that flows through this young child’s mind
Opps too late!
You just had to do it
You just had to enter into the darkness of this fallen soul
Well don’t just stand there come closer since its to late
To turn back now
Okay then welcome to the horrors of this poetic mind
For in here you’ll hear and feel what’s like to be me
For you’re in my world now and its not a pretty site
So where do you like to begin
Oh I know
Why don’t we go and see what my heart is up to
Heart: this is umm oh I’m sorry but you never told me what’s your name is
Oh well it doesn’t matter
Heart, do you mind telling my new friend here how you continue to beat inside of this old wrap body of ours
My pleasure I may beat but what I really want to do is
Explode from all the voices that whisper to my soul
Late at night
Thanks heart and speaking of our soul
Let’s go see what she’s up to okay
Oh come on don’t try to run away now
I tried to warn you before but you didn’t want to listen
You had dare to challenge the demons that rule over
My heart, mind and soul
So let’s just move on
Hello Ms. Soul, I’d like for you to meet-
Damn I really must learn your name anyway
Would you mind telling my friend here
How you continue to live and breathe through all of this everlasting pain
Am I breathing?
For day after day it feels like I’m suffocating from
All this torment pain that flows through this child’s body
For if you’d take a closer look inside of this old soul
Of mines you’d see that I’m slowly dying from the inside out
For maybe there’s a God above who’ll hopefully
One day will forgive this child of mines
Maybe the devil below who can hardly wait to get
His ferly hooks inside this soul
For if we aren’t allow to enter in neither one then
Please I’m begging you please let me go and allow
Us to burn in eternal peace
Even I’m lost for words let’s just move on before
You start whining again
So just sit back and relax as I introduce you
To the most horrifying part of our tour
The disturbing words of this child’s poetic mind
Well thank you for that lovely intro and let me say
How brave your young friend is for coming this far
Frankly I never thought you’d make it
Any way I know that I’m just blabbing for I know
How you must feel I bet you’re just dying for me
To just shut the hell up so you could get the hell
Out of here
Am I right?
Of course I am so let me get to the point then you’ll be free
We come into this world without any guardian angels
To show us how our life is going to be
For I’m just a young child whose soul’s more than happy
To welcome the bright lights of an icy hell that fills
And before you open your mouth to interrupt
Let me save you the trouble since I know what your
Going to say
You’re going to say
That these feelings will not last forever if I just have a
Well let me tell you that forever has been here and gone
And to this very day this child is yet to believe that her day of faith will ever come
For I’ve shown you all of my soul’s silence
I’ve told you all of my heart’s torments
But most important I’ve shown you the real me
Not the happy outgoing person that I always
Pretend to be
For don’t you think that I’d love to forget how I’ve
Been raped of all my innocence, faith and trust
And have them replace with numbness, shame and pain
But I can’t blame you for the sins of this child’s past
That would be useless since I could never be the person
That so many of you wish for me to be
So that completes the ending of this tour
How did you like it
Aww it left you pretty speechless huh
I had a feeling that it’d well don’t just stand there
With that stupid look on your face go get the hell out here
That’s it just turn around and walk away
Oh one more thing before you go I never did get your name
Well it was very nice to finally met you God
Now please get the hell out of here before you get trapped
Within the walls of this wicked disturbed mind
Oh hey wait!
Could I just ask you for one small favor before you go
Okay umm now bear with me cause this ain’t easy for me
But okay I really never learned how and nobody ever took
The time to teach me and it’d mean so much
To me if you’d open your heart just for a second and say
A prayer for me then maybe in that same split second I’d learn how to undo all the pain that ever been
For one day if you shall remember me
Remember what you’ve learn here today I want you to look down from that holy thorn of yours that you call heaven
But I warn you, your eyes will burn from all the flames
But don’t be sad
For just as so many have forsaken you I’ve chosen to forsaken you
Since the day I was born
And yes, I’ll burn and forever vanish in a blink of an eye
You dare to ask well since the day you’ve placed me
In a place named hell to live
And love don’t you think its only natural that I would want to die here too
Just think about it
Copyright © belong to jack 2006
Long poem by
Ruben O. | Details |
Can you hear me now? Good!
I can't seem to forget you
I love what you do for me
It must be love
between love and madness lies obsession
Like always. Like never before
At the sign of the cat
have a break, have a Kit-Kat
Tastes so good cats ask for it by name
Schhhh ... You-know-who
I'd rather die of thirst than drink from the cup of mediocrity
Perfect to you
There's a smile in every Bar
Obey your thirst
This Bud's for you
One a day helps you work, rest, and play
More fun than rum
Heineken open your world
... nobody can say no to the honey nut O
a bowl a day keeps the bullies away
Our plans are based on yours
You have my word on it
Be the first to know
Who we are
The "no problem" people
Only smarties have the answer
Making it all make sense
Because that's the kind of mom you are
Sometimes you've got to break the rules
Blow your own bubble
Catch our smile?
Everything we do is driven by you
Driven by what's inside
We'll take more care of you
You asked for it. You got it
We know what it means to serve
On your side
Allied on your side
You're in good hands
We make it happen
We'll be there
Get the feeling
Im lovin' it
You are the controller
Only on Playstation
You are now free to move
Unleash the beast
Is it in you?
Do you dare?
About this poem:
To "write" this poem, I used slogans, short and often memorable phrases
used in advertising campaigns. Below you can find the name of the product
(or the company) in order of appearance.
-Verizon Wireless; Wind Song; Toyota; Honda; Calvin Klein; Saturn
-Mercury; Kit Kat; Meow Mix; Schweppes
-Stella Artois; Wella; Dell; Hershey's; Sprite; Budweiser; Mars; Malibu;
Captain Morgan; Heineken; Rice Krispies; Cheerios; Applejacks Cereal
-Assurant; Isuzu; CNN; Guardian Life Ins; Auto-owners Ins;
-Captain Morgan; Rice Krispies; Buger King; Bubble Yum; Red Hills Inn;
Pacific Southwest Airlines; Ford; Subaru; British Airways; Toyota; USSA;
Nationwide Mutual Ins; Allied Ins
-Allstate; IBM; Chevrolet; Toyota; Mc Donalds; Microsoft Kinect; PS3;
Southwest Airlines; Monster Energy; Gatorade; Curious.
Long poem by
Poetryof Providence | Details |
I remember the beach sand and swing
when you and mother were still something
I remember the ducks in the lake
you held my hand watching their wake
I remember the sheep dogs when the day was through
and the mornings grass all covered with dew
I remember the dead man and blood on the floor
my hand in my mothers as she went for the door
I remember the stairs I thought I’d fall through
and the building where she was hidden from you
she tried drowning me in the bath and the tub
her hands on my throat on the dining room rug
the pain of the walls where my body flew
the floor of the closet when she was through
I remember you entering the door
as you picked up my body from off the floor
the words were so ugly I’ve forgotten them now
but things haven’t changed much anyhow
I remember the willows and switches not few
a home not mine and the children were new
a string of families never seeming to end
the abuse and the beatings I’m not on the mend
I remember the the rage and the red flushed face
what did I do to fall from your grace
I remember the fear when I tried to hide
the man and the 2by4 when it hit my side
the bruise and welts with noone to care
my mother and father aren’t even there
I remember the family that took me in
they had no daughter just two young men
one boy was loving the other was slime
but the parents protected me most of the time
I was safe for awhile with nightmares not few
and some of my demons she helped to slew
I remember you taking me home at last
you had remarried some six months past
I remember the woman was cruel and mean
she remained that way till I was sixteen
At fifteen I had been already raped twice
the drugs and pills and the wrist yet to slice
I remember the police to the hospital sped
the straight jacket and thorazine I should have been dead
I remember the airplane that sent me away
with my half brothers mother I was to stay
my neck with a forearm pinned to the wall
my half brothers brother screaming he will have all
I remember the screaming as I flew down the stairs
his violence had caught me totally unawares
the pain as he smashed me on the walls of the hall
the kicks in the ribs after my fall
the nine months I walked in a state of fear
how I passed my classes is very unclear
I remember the man when I hitched into town
the car was a sedan of dirty brown
the doors had no handles no way to get out
he pulled out a knife and proceeded to shout
how he would cut me and make me bleed
if I didn’t fill some sort of need
how I grabbed the wheel for steering the car
when he slammed on the brakes down the road not far
when he slid out the door by the side of the road
it seemed to me that all time had slowed
he released me with curses not language unknown
from the cage of his car this bird had flown
I remember the man preaching justice and truth
but to find answers one must become sleuth
I remember the marriage and I made him swear
that to hit or harm me he must never dare
I remember the baby with curls of gold
by seventeen to marriage my father me sold
I remember the lapses of time I had lost
the forge of my youth and the price it had cost
the thread that kept me alive was so thin
in my mind it was always me against him
I remember the children that helped keep me sane
with some sort of focus with the man I had lain
I remember the striving for some sort of truth
what kind of a mother my children had in their youth
I remember it all so plain and clear
that violence from men will always be near
I swore at sixteen no child to have
if you couldn’t play safely with joy and a laugh
forgive me my children for bringing you here
the reasons I do things are sometimes not clear
My parents are gone and I do not mourn
but only for the life I was never shown
I did try to spare you the same kind of fate
I hoped that my love would be never to late
I had no control of the time or the chance
that injustice would look upon you with his glance
I raise my eyes to the heavens and vent to his name
to save all the children who are yet put thru shame
In a blast furnace my life has been forged
the tool of the hammer has formed my discourse
in molten metal I have been shaped
the tool of another I have not escaped
what of the purpose he hopes to hew
a piece of equipment all shiny and new
I remember my maker and the state of his grace
the road laid before me and the words of his face
the view of my nature he seeks to tame
with so many others who walk in the flame
in wails united to pull heaven down
and with its brightness scour the ground
his promise to do so has not yet passed
when all of mankind will feel his blast
the call has gone forth the meaning is clear
to give an accounting is so very near
those who think themselves high shall be made low
the dust of the earth their destined to know
the one that I follow has carved out the path
his star has shown brightly beneath thorn and the lash
I reach my arm forth to take hold his hand
to walk among humans woman and man
he paints a clear future for those of us all
a paradise lost to man in his fall
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller via Duboff Law Group LLC
Long poem by
Dorine R Spruill | Details |
Molested the first fifteen years of my life. My mother remained silent the whole time. As the molesting continued all those years. Forced to live a pretend life all my childhood. Beaten and punished every other day. For no reason other than being a child. After all this I figured I was a unwanted child. My mother couldn't love me abusing me. She brought me fancy expensive clothes every year. To cover up all her verbal, mental, and physical abuse. She tried to hide me from people, family and friends. So that they wouldn't see the embarrassing scars and bruises. Sometimes so bad I couldn't even go to school the next day. Or I would get into fights or act rude to get a suspension notice. That would have allowed my body to heal. One time I even tried to get ex-spelled. However, it didn't work. I only came home to more beatings. Her boyfriend watched and help hold me down on the floor as she would beat, and beat, and beat. Maybe this gave him a idea that it was ok to abuse me. Being that my mother was already doing it. Yeah! From the outside looking in my childhood was perfect. Every child wanted my seat. Name-brand clothes, shoes, computers, and almost every toy in the Jc Penny catalog. From the inside looking out I was screaming to get out. Scared, alone, abused, and still a child. So there was nothing I could do. I had no brothers or sisters at the time. All my family wouldn't believe me.No! Not him they would say, and did say at age fifteen I started getting older, and more developed. I had to put a stop to this. So after talking to some school friends. I decided to talk to my mother about what was going on. So later on that night I called my mother in to talk to her. I had told her what had been going on. while she was a work, and out late shopping. She in return asked me to draw a picture of his *****. As if she didn't believe me on the spot. What! I thought to myself. How could she ask me a thing like that? After one hour she finally called the police. I was brung in also for video questioning. I told them what had been going on in the house while my mother was away. The police in return asked me "what took so long for me to tell" I replied" I was scared, alone, and threatened. I had no one in the house to protect me. From my mothers abusive ways. I thought people would tease me." The next question was to my mother. The police asked "How could you live in the same house, and not know that your child was being raped?" My mother sat quietly and had no answer. So she got charged with neglect. My mother's boyfriend got charged with child molestation, and a few other things. I can't remember them all. After all that I was still scared, but finally free. Free to be a kid again.
Awh, hell the relationship between my mother and I went down the drain. After trial she hated me even more. Every day she was threatening to kick me out of the house. I was only sixteen so she couldn't just kick me out. Yet! She even got so angry at times. She went as far as not letting me communicate with my newborn brother. She even told people to keep him away from me. That hurt me so bad everyday. I prayed to God everyday to soften my mother's heart, but it never happened. When I turned eighteen she finally kicked me out the house for real. With no place to go, no money , and no food to eat. I ended up living with family and friends until she let me back in. I don't know why, but I thought things had changed. About a week after moving she called the police and told them that I was prostituting. Which was a lie. Thank God I didn't spend time in jail. Due to her lies and deceit. I never thought I would have to leave my own mother alone. However, after that incident that was my final decision. Sporadically I call her to hear her voice, and check on my brother. Unfortunately she never answers the phone. Her guilt for abusing me won't let her answer the phone.
I moved to Albany, NY for a fresh start. A new beginning! There I met more friends, moved into a brand new apartment, and fell in love. I wasn't expecting to fall in love, but I did. With a adorable, hot, and sexy Italian guy. For the first time my life was great, and I was happy. I even tried some plus size modeling, nursing, and I started self-publishing my writings. I was accomplishing things that my mother never encouraged me to do.
After about four years I started feeling homesick . So I came back to Virginia. Wow! What destruction was happening. My whole family fell apart. Nothing or nobody were the same. They all became police property. That was a sign to continue to stay away from them. Continue my happy life. Continue self-publishing my stories. Praying to God everyday. that I remain successful. This is a true story. Unfortunately it happened to me. From a mother who brung me in this world. Only to use and abuse me my whole entire childhood. Then pretend that nothings even going on.
Long poem by
AJ Lekobane | Details |
Memoirs of one unloved
I hear them refer to me as “it” or “the fetus”
Some underdeveloped miniature human, with no established status
For I am trapped in some fluid, apparently I know nothing
But, as strange as it may seem, I do suspect something
I cannot tell my senses apart or at all open my eyes
But I can detect outside of me a piling up of blatant lies
Disturbingly chaotic and deafening sounds I clearly hear
But they seem so far from one, yet closer to the other ear
How is it that I am able to point out what I feel?
Why do I get a foretaste of the world, when I’m a captive still?
Yes, you’d better believe your ears, I said, “captive”
I am afraid that in comparison to my carrier I am more responsive
For this seemingly young lady who claims to be with child
Expresses to me emotions that are anything far below mild
So the word mother surely does not apply in this case
It’s implied that it is better for me never to have existed in the first place
The insensitive words daily uttered by her literally send me balling over
She repeatedly does sit and only between two things hover
“Would it be a wise decision if I kept it?
Or should I rid of it and rather figure out how I can get back on my feet?”
Well the object she is referring to, is me
Her so-called destructive child-to-be
Then again, I wouldn’t burden her with the blame
Seeing that a situation such as hers is considered a great shame
An act that is socially and morally seen as highly abominable
Simultaneously makes me feel unwanted, a child so hideous and deplorable
Since when is it a mother’s first instinct to be so contemptuous?
Clearly of the feeling known as love is she not conscious
Oh, wait, apparently aware of love she is
But only when she looks deep into his eyes, love she sees
Not when she feels me move inside of her, no never!
Sometimes I wander, “love me, will you ever?”
At the same time I wander, “why bother keeping me alive?”
It truly is a struggle, for to stay alive I solely strife
When it feels like alcohol gushes from wherever into my system
Cigarette smoke from him blocking my lungs become an unbearable problem
Obviously, none of them care
The beginning of my life is marked by all things highly unfair
And him — don’t even get me started!
By now, I’ve memorised all the words he’s blurted
All his insults are now engraved in my once innocent mind
Truly speaking, in his voice, apathy is all you can find
I am partially disabled by his emotional numbness
And so is she, oh what an experience of sheer distress?
I would rather soon very swiftly disappear
And on the other world of nothingness reappear
For he slabs her and throws her around as he pleases
And for a moment the woman who ought to be my mother ceases
To seek a hiding place, safe and secure
To find for her heartache a temporary cure
But then the cycle begins again
And by the end, once again, not much did she gain
He hurls insults at her and once again, slabs her the face across
He overpowers her always and she is at a loss
For words, and only her tears speak of her anguish
If all this could go away, oh how I wish?
If only there’d be a moment of peace
If only for a moment, however short, everything would freeze
Just when I think my wish is going to be fulfilled
An even colder rush of naked Reality into me is instilled
He screams loudly “get rid of it or I leave!”
And she on the other hand, gasps for a moment brief
The verdict has been decided upon
But this time around, she tries to reason with him, “Please, come on”
To listen to her, he stubbornly refuses
For he cannot by a lady be in any way refuted
So now I am in the middle of all this
The two people who are supposed to protect me with their all are these
I have not yet stepped foot into the world but it seems twisted
The two who are to be united are against one another listed
Now I get the point very sharply
I got in the way of their happiness haply
In all honesty, I didn’t mean to exist
Then I suddenly feel him pulling her by the wrist
There, my thoughts are interrupted, as I sense a moment of rough wrestling
For the manner in which her body is shaken resembles no sort of nestling
I feel forceful Gravity mercilessly pulling us toward her
Our bodies fail to defy her, and I for one, disappointment I wear
How could he be so heartless?
To the point of knocking her out cold, almost lifeless
The unrest was born the moment I got here
So I’m leaving that they will be of good cheer
I have no idea whether I’m volunteering
But I sense that the fluid which I know as home, red is turning
Yes, I think they both stabbed me in the heart
The nameless, unloved object can no longer bear the hurt
I would be lying if I said anything of this world I’ll miss
Fare thee well, please do now without me enjoy your life of bliss
Long poem by
Poetryof Providence | Details |
You spoke of Love in the kingdom to come
Where the works of hatred would be undone
you bid your disciples to follow whats true
to demonstrate its power in the actions they do
But I have seen injustice
In the congregations of God
they have castigated children
with verbal tirades they did flog
committed vicious slander
and the innocent threw away
refused to hear their lack of justice
and those who tell the truth they slay
But these actions are not hidden
from our King God has given throne
those of us who’ve seen it
our thoughts to him have shown
His retribution will not linger
with his army he arrives
expose he will oppressors
those who cover deceit with lies
They profess to be disciples
of the Christ and Father Jah
but the errors of injustice
have trespassed the Love that’s law
Into the sanctuary
I have sent this word
that like prayers of incense
their cries and tears be heard
At the house of God there’s punishment
until true mercy we can learn
willing to investigate the truth
and its advocates not spurn
You have practiced Law and Judgment
the child of God you did not see
you interpreted the scriptures
and pronounced his children unworthy
I have trouble understanding
those who lift your eulogy
so easily destroy their kin
blame not themselves as ungodly
Its always someone else’s fault
not the things you did or say
you couldn’t possibly be the reason
that from the “truth” they walked away
When you stand before the throne of God
will they judge your actions clean
all the thoughts that you committed
will prove you kind or mean
I can only say to you
I saw your justice taken away
my own afflictions and slander
paralyzed my voice that day
Even now to late in time
their judgments I do fear
they’ve spent their time convincing me
my perception is not clear
But I have spent my time
considering the instructions in your word
their placement in my heart and mind
and my pen has proved I’ve heard
to those youths I’m still connected
you’ve remained in mind and heart
I’ve considered what you experienced
and I know it’s origins start
Not all of us who worship truth
will condemn your walk away
those who expose their heartlessness
before the throne will pay
I only hope you remember
those of us who cherished you
If I could manipulate nature
none these things would you go through
I want you to remember
that’s whats broken and with flaw
have difficulty executing
the perfection of cosmic law
I hope to see you in the future
when you’ve considered my digress
what you’ve experienced in life
is very difficult to digest
The things that connect us
are more than human skin
together we are the children
of the parents who gave us sin
This is my apology
for you whom I could not defend
I was suffering my own afflictions
which prevented my love to mend
I have failed far to many
and on others can lay no blame
unlike the power that controls the cosmos
my limitations physics name
My complaints here I have spoken
but the threads of them are true
they are laid before the throne of justice
and our God and Christ will see them through
Choose to invest in excellence
but these are traits that you must learn
to humans they come not natural
your inclinations they will confirm
From your introduction I have loved you
and to my thoughts have given voice
but your own road you must travel
and free will is yours of choice
Only one thing can fill whats hollow
a majestic gift from Christ and God
that we “learn” to love each other
correct the inherited things and flawed
Self justification (self rightousness) is a peculiar
trait among mankind ….and is significantly
emboldened when applying law and tradition
and distinctly visible among those who “practice”
religion , instead of “following the truth” like a
detective …….outside appearances can be so
deceiving, whats hidden and out of visions
range the guilty are not just catholic and protestant
those who abuse the truth have always sat
right among Gods own chosen people ….
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Long poem by
matthew harris | Details |
Pardon any absent adulation, bequeathed capitulation, devoted dedication, indiscretion, blabbering peroration, improper salutation or any unintended vexation if this unknown earthling sent a nearly identical message. He over-looked a small number of errors and hoped that this version accepted as the most satisfactory to me.
Oh please for the sake (and sock e) of brethren deemed friendly, i beseech ye with genuine humility to desist launching nuclear missiles!
This American bloke put his lock, stock and barrel of gunmetal faith in mister Dennis Rodman to serve as a figurative lightning rod against any aggressive actions that would set in motion the end of civilization.
Not only would the majority of homo sapiens (yes, some clusters of earth-linked yahoos might still remain a live) suffer a nasty, short and brutish death, but also other flora and fauna could be equally annihilated!
Understandable, those grievances against sanctions against the populace of north Koreans (who most likely experience unfair hardship) fuels resentment against the hegemony of western powers. Many of these societies authoritatively brandish their devout pledge for concurrence with democratic principles.
Any endemic protestations declaiming objection to the American way affect an immediate alarm. Imposition of so called "puppet" regimes get forcibly installed sans those countries leaders who run counter to capitalistic productivity.
This one anonymous citizen of those fifty states also takes umbrage how the might of american to predominate and demand that other nations follow suit solely based on what agrees with those like minded in power sans the brotherhood/sisterhood of vast swaths of the global population.
No great expectations (by dickens) to affect passionate sentiments per those peoples somewhat hermetically sealed off and separated (viz - by the demilitarized zone) from the billions of other human beings.
Thy sole missive from one older mwm dreads the catastrophic chain reaction of events once atomic warfare triggered by the disgruntlement over some differences in outlook could possibly resolved via "active listening" and access to exchange a word of reconciliation.
As one flawed chap prone to his own bouts of anger, he attests that more positive pleasing results can prevails with the treat of world war three diffused in a manner that plays less havoc once unleashing of weapons of mass destruction occurs!
This notion came to me while tending to a basic bodily urge, thus intent to share my poem whence sitting
Upon the porcelain goddess,
A most brilliant idea in me mind did lit
This sole seasoned bugs bunny car tune character son of kit
Soon after on the road his imagination
Fired up with gaseous fleeting thought that softly hit
Attempting with futility to net ideas in me mind that flit
I yam a poet favoring words that rhyme a bit!
Iambic pentameter strands crochet themselves
Magically into verse
Interleaving like boughs of an arbor
Shielding this solitary soul
From shafts of sunlight that doth dapple
The canopy affecting shadows to disperse
Ebbing and flowing in tandem & sync
With circadian metronome this troll
Transformed by serenade from Mother Nature
With hand doth scythe lent curse
Congregating amongst a distinguished flora and faun
The latter sending tendrils
Poised on the brink of some philosophical revelation
Delicate as hocked china
Which capricious metaphorical musings
Resurrected from propriety
Devoid of any vicious evocations nor premonitions
While ensconced in eyesight of my adobe
Dwelling away from mass of society
Return of this native son harbors thoughts
Against madding crowd that cease to dwindle
To less than the effect of a mosquito needling proboscis
In the nape o me neck
As this contemplative human being feels
Leaves of grass each like a spindle
Completing a colorful pastoral palette
Of utmost verdant splendor upon flotsam speck
Allowing wisps of euphoria
To warm thine psyche easing books set afire to kindle
Under the azure vault
The entire warp and woof of one mortal male as he does lie
Where arises finding incriminating fault
Beneath the celestial sphere transfixed where mysteries catapult
As those simians who preceded him
Millenniums before similarly inebriated
From wondrous panoply of one star
That comprises a near infinite candelabra
Guiding the mind to posit the universe
This mission must come to a HALT!
From - one whom u kin newt re:fuse
No claim to be Walt Whitman only venturing forth
That all of mankind we lose
In the event of such apocalyptic once the fuse
Lit to launch missiles meant to zero in and cruise
Upon the masses a severe planet earth detonations
Inflicting concussions more fatal
Than the most lethal booze.
Long poem by
nick armbrister jimmy boom semtex | Details |
You died in protest in Iran. Agha-Soltan age 26. Your death caught on camera. In the wrong place at the wrong time. Sent around the world. Condemning the Iranian government led by the mad man Ahmadinejabd. Your fellow country people said they were called your name. We are Neda. Your death was one of the most witnessed in history due to television and the internet.
Human Rights Watch said: "She a philosophy student who was a bystander to the protests when she was shot in the chest on Kargar Street. At the time of the shooting, Agha-Soltan was not actively protesting, according to her relatives and eyewitnesses. She had been travelling in a private car stuck in traffic several kilometres from the main protests at Azadi Square, and had just stepped out of the car. Numerous witnesses have stated that there were no active clashes between protesters and security forces in the area where she was shot."
Your years of study over, stolen by an assassin's bullet. Unable to live your life, follow your dreams and contribute to life. But in death, you Neda, won't be forgotten. You stand for freedom, life and against tyranny. Music was your love, you never did play your new piano. Stolen by that evil bullet allegedly fired by Abbas Kargar Javid, member of the Basij militia. Symbolizing the people versus the government in the disputed election. Government authorities denied you a proper funeral and a ban on collective prayers after your murder, threatening your family if they mourned you. Evil actions by an evil government, like Hitler or Stalin's evil way. Nothing but brutality. You Neda are the opposite of that. Others died too. Grand Ayatollah Hossein-Ali Montazeri fiercely opposed Ahmadinejabd and called for three days of mourning. A single candle in the darkness, a positive point of hope for your people. Uniting them by your death in the breath of free freedom. It's not here yet but it will, waiting in the wings. Even in death the authorities hounded you by desecrating your grave and shooting at your portrait. Never mind the slander and lies. They can't ever kill what you stand for. No matter how hard they try dear Neda.
Long poem by
Sheri Fresonke Harper | Details |
(after Edgar Allan Poe's "The Angel of the Odd")
It was a tidy day and I sat, replete, under vellux blankets.
Sadly, my tea was weak, the bottle of cinnamon whiskey
tantalizingly low, and my feet swelling above my anklets.
So I was snippy one might say, zippy, flipping with zee...
from one screen to the next, oops, forgot! Poor Usain Bolt!
Yes, I took it out upon him. Dressed him first in bouncy hearts
cruel, I admit, and then purposefully fried him, let him float,
banged him, tripped him, let the sloth dine, and let out a fart.
Crude, I admit. Let's blame it on the tea, shall we? "I say not."
I sat up. Who had spoken to little old me, an old lady too weak
for any great villian with a booming voice. I blew out my snot,
found my glasses and good grief! The speaker made of teak.
Pseudo teak, my stereo a bit old. But leaning against the wall
fruity-kins wearing leotards when he should not, the belly
like a spiked watermelon. I admit I considered a sip at neck gall
but got turned off by papaya thighs, arms turned banana jelly.
Who are you, I squeaked, smushing low to hide like a flea.
"Zolar, the Inet God. Say, I wonder, are you a high roller?"
No, no, said I. No bingo, no slots, no high stake poker, just see...
"See? I see far too well. You let my buddy Usain go polar."
Tee hee. Just, um, fun and games. How about a nice slushy?
Yes, I admit it. With such as he, I couldn't help but imagine
giving a blender whirr, a smash and splash, sort of plushy.
With glee whee, off went vellux and I set to the kitchen.
The rum was old and watery, the vodka scummy at collar
and all went crash. Imagine the horror if you will, foot rot
in my fine spirits? My hoover sucked it without bother
and when I examined residue, found crumbs, hairs and a dot
of mushy raisins. So I googled on my phone with askance
how purify spirits? Zolar suggested kindly, "Try a colander."
A genius of the mash, a nonpariel of the objective chance.
My mind turned to such grater things I made my first blunder.
Who'd believe a fresh market reject could move with alacrity
I swung a hammer, missed his head, slipped on the slick floor.
The recoil hit my head, and I bled red vintage, singing a ditty,
Oh me, oh my. I'm gonna cry, while Zolar went out the door.
Not leaving my just desserts to chance, I slipped and slithered
rubbed my foot rot, and hopped after him, butcher knife in hand.
A beep from my iPhone and away he dodged, while I dithered
leading me, up, up and out to where it rained to beat the band.
It hit me then, just get close enough to hug Zolar, then push
he must have read my mind because he darted and I flew
head over heels, but thankfully over a branch like a lush
who did okay on the acrobatic bars, hair tangling in dew
covered maple leaves and my dismount worthy of a ten.
I mucked toward my door, my bare feet covered with mud
I opened the door, except it was locked, no window open.
I checked my pockets, found a lighter, snapped, a dud.
No phone, can you imagine? Even Usain Bolt wouldn't recover
such blasphemy as rain, muck, and maniac fruit without zen.
I now had an axe to grind and a green house to uncover.
My thirst now absurd, my mind stuck on might have been
I raged, thrashed through cabinets, seeking a bottle once stored
and found it. Amen. I uncapped it, took a deep swallow
Hot. Hot, hot! Immediately I upchucked, help me I implored
to the God of the Inet, Oh Zolar, call 911, don't let me wallow
It's cold, wet, dark and mucky, and here I'm all upchucky
I pounded on doors, they'd open, snap a flash then close
oh, woe, woe. I clutched my head, my throat, I'm ever so unlucky
to wish to slip into slushy and end up posted before repose.
A siren in the night grew and grew, then flashed beside me
a voice said, "Ma'am? Can you hold it right there, put your hands
overhead?" Sure, but bladder being bad I couldn't stop my wee wee
from dribbling down my leg, then my feet slipped unplanned.
That's how the news pictured me, along with neighborhood
postings, feet all asply, a phew of urine and of whiskey,
my hair filled with leaves, eyes black and blue, and would
you believe it? My hand rests on watermelon, me unable to flee.
I never go near the iNet, never search out or bash Usain Bolt.
The night of Zolar in mind, I even gave up cinnamon whiskey.
Because a fruit in hand is better than an axe to grind or a volt
from lightning, with tush grounded and no vellux to cover me.