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Long poem by Gary Bateman | Details |

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Seven

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Seven

The Final Days:  Rosalia’s Death and Destruction
In the wake of such evil, debauchery and depravity what can be said now in the case of Rosalia?

Now in her mortal form the old black witch no longer had the unspeakable power of hell-spawned evil at her instant command. In spite of the victory of the power of goodness and light and the attenuation, if not the dissolution of witchcraft in the Harz, the memory of who Rosalia was and what she had done could now begin to be eased somewhat from the minds of local people and the clergy. But the memory of Rosalia and her evil could never be forgotten.  How could it be otherwise?

After three months of confinement in the dungeon at the Burg Worlerede, a fortress castle, very near to Cloister Marten in the Harz, Rosalia was eventually tried and convicted in a special church court convened at this castle to try cases concerning witchcraft and sorcery, which were beyond the normal jurisdiction of civil courts. Monseigneur Wolfgang Augustus Hardenberg of Cloister Marten was the residing church chief judge with four priests in his assistance serving as subordinate church judges.  One civil magistrate judge from the local Harz provincial government participated, in an advisory capacity, with the five church judges in these special judicial proceedings against Rosalia.

Everyone in attendance at the witchcraft trial of Rosalia knew what the outcome would be. With that said, the testimony of her victims on public record dragged on for several weeks, to include the final interrogation and confession of witchcraft and supreme evil doings by Rosalia herself.

In her rebuttal statement to the assembled church tribunal, Rosalia actually gained some of her old fire back as she spoke to the group—in a taunting and derisive manner. Rosalia showed no remorse whatsoever for what she had done and perpetrated upon others. She still renounced the Almighty Lord God and did not ask for his mercy and forgiveness. Her love and passion for being and existence was still with her god, Lucifer, who had forsaken her at last in her hour of need during All Hallows’ Eve and the Black Witches’ Sabbath. 

As easy as it might have been at that moment to pity such a pathetic and revolting creature, Rosalia’s hurtful words in complete defiance of God and her taunting mockery and snickering at the victims of her black deeds were beyond the pale of any shred or strand of human decency.

At the conclusion of Rosalia’s rebuttal statement, Monseigneur Hardenberg announced the verdict and sentence of the special church court:

“Rosalia, Black Witch of the Harz and Purveyor of Lucifer’s Evil on this Earth, you are hereby adjudged by this special court of being guilty of the practice of Witchcraft and Sorcery, and the murder of untold numbers victims over the centuries to this present one, and for the malicious corruption of your victims’ souls as they died in torment and faced the reality and agony of eternal damnation. And your acts even against young children and babies are so unspeakable and abominable that they readily defy any iota of rational understanding in our human society here on Earth. All these actions reflect your absolute depravity and lack of regard for human life, and they defy directly the teachings of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. All of your transgressions have been entered into the final record by this assembled court.”

“As a priest and a man of the cloth, I would normally ask the Almighty Lord God to have pity on you and your soul. But you have no mortal soul since you have been in very long service to Satan himself. Once more, you have committed the ultimate sacrilege by renouncing the Almighty Lord God yourself.”

“Therefore, there can be no plea of mercy or divine forgiveness rendered for you by this court on your behalf.  Your final fate and disposition beyond the reach of this court lies ultimately with your master—Satan.”

“It is therefore the judgment of this court that you Rosalia—Black Witch of the Harz—be taken on the next morn’ at dawn to the gallows specially constructed here at Worlerede and this is where you shall be hanged by the neck until pronounced dead, and then your mortal body shall continue to hang for three days on public display, for all to see, and then your mortal body shall be burned by fire while it is still in its hanging position. Your mortal body shall burn until it disintegrates into nothing but fine burnt ashes.”

“In God’s name, this is so adjudged and it shall be done!”
 
As Monseigneur Hardenberg finished his verdict and sentencing, before Rosalia was to be bound and shackled for her departure from the court, he asked her if she had any final words for the court.

At that very moment the wily old hag became extraordinarily animated, and in a wild-eyed uncontrollable manner, jumped high into the air with an energy she had not possessed in a while and made this very provocative pronouncement to the Monseigneur and all concerned:

“Monseigneur you may have me hanged and burned into nothingness, but I shall once again triumph with Lucifer’s will and power behind me for I lay eternally in his bed and seek not Jehovah’s forgiveness and the rapture of Heaven. My Master will restore me once again and resurrect me to return and execute his evil deeds once again here on Earth. It is I who renounce you and all the people assembled in this court. I renounce what all of you stand for. I curse all of you forever, and I shall be there at the very Gates of Hell awaiting the day when I can greet all of and condemn you to eternal hell fire and damnation on my Master’s behalf. A curse of death and eternal damnation be upon you all, and all of the relatives who follow you for future generations to come!”

End of Part Seven

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany (September 20, 2014)


Long poem by J. W. M. Earnings | Details |

Your Sanity

Stuck in place…
Free in space…
you’re insane 
I’m as sweet as sugar cane…
Whatever happened to your unique personality?
Whatever happened to your sanity? 
Has it transformed to insanity?
I like the way you make me feel
Oh, you don’t have to make it a big deal
I love the way you lie about me 
Right behind my back
I never needed you in the first place
I don’t want you back! I don’t want to see your hideous face!
You pushed me in the margins…and you threw me away
You took advantage of me as if it was another boring and laborious day!
I don’t want you back, 
So go ahead and run away with your pack!
I’m the last magazine, 
Left alone on the magazine rack
I don’t want you to see my cry a river…
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you see my ocean of emotion? 
Why are you sponging in melancholy?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
I don’t want to bleed without you…
But you’re rather bittersweet 
You boast way too much – that’s just neat…
I hate the way you treat me – like B.S. literally  
You think you’re better than everyone else – 
I think otherwise, you stinging bee!
You are literally bad to the bone
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you understand what I’m saying? 
Do you consider my plea?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
I’m a loner, talking to myself again, 
Walking all alone…in the streets of shame
My happiness is hardly ever shown – this feeling of rejection has no name
Feelin’ this shame without a name…
I know these feelings might seem lame,
But they’re real to me – 
I’m jaded corrupted
Am I the cause of your misfortune?
Am I a singer, singing out of tune?
I miss you, but at the same time, 
I’m happy that you’re gone
I’ve never grown out of my fears of losing you – that’s sublime!
But, it seems like I can’t move on
Move on…man…just move on with this life
Though I might be the victim of strife
Your envy and heartless comments stabs me like a knife
And you ask if I’m alright…
Good riddance, you weren’t my ecstatic delight! 
You disowned me 
You joined the pack…
You rejected me…
You never got my back
Instead, you stabbed me in the back…
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Do you even remember who I was? 
Your friend who would make your 
Heart jump with glee?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His… 
His compassionate child of jubilance
Am I of any significance? 
You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing
You will feel my loathing…
I’m gaining fruitful insight 
That you lack tremendously
Your thoughtless words 
Made me taste your envy and vanity

Whatever happened to your sanity?
 
Whatever happened to your sanity? 

What are you afraid of? 
Returning to your misery?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll accept you in His family 
We’ll all sing with merriness 
In our hearts, we’ll never let our passion 
Get in the way or our lament will stay
God is our Father and 
We need to honor Him 
And obey every single day
I’m surrounded by my enemies now….
Save me…deliver me from them, 
For they use their bullying ways
God will answer our prayer in His own time – 
It might take hours, it might take days…
Until He takes full action
But He wants us to have a cheerful heart, 
Beating vigorously with gratification 
My emotions are ganging up on me…yah see? 
Will you ever leave me be?
I’m fighting this battle for my own sake…
I will watch you suffer and slowly, but surely break
Don’t take it easy, you’re getting it the hard way
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Whatever happened to your singing, uplifting me?
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of tranquility
Tough luck, you jerk! You’re so berserk! 
You’re like a madman…
Bombing the city and doing abominable work!
 
Maybe you’ll find your courage another day
Do me a favor and unchain me free from my poverty
Maybe we’ll be in good terms 
And in the same demented boat
Whatever happened to your sanity?
Why are using uncalled for profanity?
I can relate to your eccentric insanity…
I need you to do me a quick favor and 
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll consider you His faithful child of serenity
Pray to God for forgiveness 
He’ll craft His miracles of mesmerizing euphoria 
Free me from this abhorrent agony 
Keep on pressing on with your uplifting ecstasy…
You would win my heart 
If you’d be so kind to make me a root beer float
You are the opposite of gravity, 
Lifting me higher than the mountains 
That used to stare me down 
The morning will be brought back to life 
Sooner than you think
I’m not in the brink of total disaster – 
I trust you won’t break my heart 
Like you did in the past…
The past’s wicked adversaries reduced me to sorrow
IS there hope in store for Tomorrow? 
Please tell me if it’s so…or this envied grief and curiosity will grow…
You wouldn’t catch me before I sink 
I’d like to thank you – that was sarcasm
I’ll give you a wink that signifies my appreciation of having you, you little brat 
But, you and I have gone through hardships in our personal lives…
I should’ve not of trusted you, but you were as mysterious as a bat! 
You were as sneaky as a black cat! 
You are so deceptive…so corruptive…so inattentive…but I still love you 
Hey! Don’t even try to step on me over and over again like a mat!
I won’t let you stomp all over me like that! 
My faith towards You will never shrink
As long as You’re here with me…
That’s what matters most, you see?
I would like to visit you 
We’ll meet eye to eye one day with a smile on our faces – 
Not a trace of dismay is seen and we’ll share our embraces
I really don’t know what to do or say
I’m speechless, but I’m fatigued, 
So let me lay my head on Your shoulders for a while
I want Your relief to shed Your perpetual peace on me, 
Wiping away the despicable bile
Rinsing away the mixed emotions, piling on me for a while…
It seemed like a long time 
At least it’s all over – at least I don’t take pleasure in committing a crime


Long poem by cassie hellberg | Details |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
FAT
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
repeating,
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
no
is daddy raping her?
no
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
pass...
did anyone molest her? 
pass....
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
more... 
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
FAT!!!!!!
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
FAT!
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...


Long poem by Jorn Kolding | Details |

An Introduction: an introduction

Considering how many times I set out to pen a small,
Master piece of art, a gem that might underwrite,
The utter liability of being just that stamp,
Or tramp, or whatever other denomination one might reliably take into use,
To put me in some camp,
By way of classifying the contingent being -me- 
Whose eagerness presently strives to present 
Himself as himself as truthfully as Truth writ large,
In terms, of course, both endearing, flattering and “brutally honest”,
(Which, parenthetically, is what my soon to be deceased ex-step-mother-in-law once Said,
Would be the way she would have to describe some of My more salient character flaws)
To you my reader, my chosen few, my undeniably very few chosen few,
As a being in the here and now,
As living flesh and burning spirit,
As a man of substance and substantial capacity 
To transmit radiant rays of thoughts,
That reside, quite Evidently, 
And in no doubt to some degree by Providence,
Within an interior space- MySpace- where nothing gets elbowed around-
Nor for that matter ever gets liked, commented upon, shared,
Or, even worse, put at risk of going viral-
For this is after all an authentic  space, 
Not a virtual race to create a face,
Nor a terrific place to leave a cyberlinear trace
But a true mental galaxy, 
An individual-wide web of self-associating neurons, 
Where all and everything is self-made and dependent upon Nothing more, 
Than a small light switch which I alone am the master of-

This then will indeed be far from the grandeur of the art I imagined.

Therefore my fair friend
I humbly ask,
With hand on heart,
Notwithstanding those fingers so inclined to be bent and crossed,
And hat in hand 
(That would be the other hand)
For your forgiveness and forbearance
And do solemnly promise to get this little ritual over with
As fast as a cat on a motor scooter- 
Which is an image I kind of like by the way
Because it reminds me of Sally,
The old toothless Steinbeckian woman who lived alone above the basement apartment,
A dank little hole I might add, 
Back in 1992,
Where my ex-wife, now an Artist, used to live in a snotty little town called Westport.
Sally uttered those timely words
With a Cheshirean grin to boot her point home
Because her landlords were kicking her out
Not only for going sour apple on three months rent
But for being a rotten apple to begin with in a part of the world
Where only Golden apples were entitled to reside.
Sally had to get the hell out.
Faster than a cat on a motor scooter.

Oh toothless rootless Sally how I celebrate you!
Hardly a master of your own destiny
You were at least a Masterful speaker
Unlike those marginal creeps,
Mr. and Mrs. Somebodyimportant, 
Whose sharp noses wedged you out 
Of their little cash crop cottage 
And who no doubt live comfortably  
This very day
In some vaulted tomb under Floridian myakka 
While you 
My little friend 
Are but dust in the wind.

With that aside now put aside 
I now commence
To end quickly this brief debriefing 
And by way of Introduction
Will only add the most necessary details to conclude 
What urgently needs to be concluded as rapidly as possible,
Faster even,
To paraphrase our heroine in modern idiom,
Then a cat going global on youtube.  

However,
One important detail to get over with,
A small but relevant 
Fact of the matter,
Is confessional by nature:
I hate introductions because they do 
In fact Matter
Under the unique circumstances
Which with bated breath and increasing alarm
I have come to recognize
As not only necessary
But obligatory
To outline
In a way-
Um…. 
How do I say this?-
That will not only defy
The very conceptual idea 
Of brevity
But defy it in such a way
As to peel its meaning down
To its very atomic anti-structure
Semantically speaking
Which is to say,
Apologetically, 
That brevity in my hands
-Drum roll please-
Is brevity in geological time.

Why you ask?

My reader,
I suffer from nothing less 
Then a syndrome, 
Unique upon this earth-
(Oh wretched wretched earth you are!)
Unique among all earthlings,
(With some note-worthy exceptions among 
Those posturing, lumbering humanoids called writers)
And certainly unique among all rational creatures
(Who Nature by way of de-evolution has so endearingly
Immunized against MyDisease by way of social nurture 
And social constructions that protect humanity’s bloodline from madness),
Called-
In proper taxonomic terms-
“Ican’tstopwritingIcan’tstopwritingIcan’tstopwritingIcan’tstopwritingeizer’s Disease”


Long poem by Gary Bateman | Details |

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Six

Rosalia - The Evil Black Witch of the Harz, Part Six

Archangel Gabriel and His Force of Heavenly Angels
Upon seeing the radiant, almost blinding light as it lit up even the darkest corners of the forested area, Monseigneur Hardenberg and his party dropped to their knees and in earnest prayer thanked the Lord God for making his presence known to them.

In the distance, the search party could see a large group of light beings with halos. Aurelia’s sensing proved correct. This was the Archangel Gabriel with his trusted group of angels. Perceptively now, Aurelia could both sense and see the entrance to Rosalia’s cave beyond a thick grouping of trees in a small clearing. Archangel Gabriel was pointing the way to them to the cave.

Once more, Aurelia also knew now that Rosalia, despite her vaunted powers of darkness, was actually clueless to the arrival of the angels in the vicinity of her lair. Under God’s power, Archangel Gabriel was shielding and protecting Monseigneur Hardenberg’s search party from detection by Rosalia and her witches.

As it turned out, the search party was there in reality to help and assist the angels as they could when people who were prisoners of Rosalia were freed from her control. The real battle though that was commencing was at the heavenly level now. Archangel Gabriel with his angelic group descended quickly now into the cave immediately followed by Aurelia and Monseigneur Hardenberg and his group . . . The element of surprise was theirs. 

It was now after 6:00 pm and the final preparation for the Black Mass celebration for the Black Witches’ Sabbath to occur at midnight was underway. The key was for the angels to strike decisively before the appearance of Lucifer at midnight.  If they had to confront Lucifer directly, Archangel Gabriel knew he needed God’s direct intervention.

The full force and radiance of the angelic heavenly light permeated the deepest and darkest reaches of Rosalia’s cavern. The witches and the lost soul minions of Rosalia were totally surprised by the sheer light and power of the angelic force. Those who fought and resisted—and there were many—were immediate destroyed. There was still a small grouping of Rosalia’s witches and vassals remaining that immediately surrendered to the superior force of angels and the supreme will of the Almighty Lord God. The surrendering group pleaded for mercy and begged forgiveness and recanted their allegiance to both Rosalia and Lucifer—and then turned to the Almighty Lord God for their ultimate salvation.  It was indeed a truly remarkable sight to behold.  

In the confusion which ensued following the success of the angelic invasion and the demonic capitulation, Rosalia was nowhere to be found. It looked as though she had literally vanished from the face of the Earth. But this proved to be not the case. During the moment of surprise when the angels attacked her dark forces, Rosalia was caught completely off guard and for a moment froze in fear and indecision.  A real first for her. For the very first time, her ability to summon the forces of evil was not possible for her. Her only way out was to turn herself into a Black Cat, a favored creature of hers.

Rosalia’s deception did not last long.  Aurelia alerted everyone to the evil presence of the Black Cat. She knew at once that the Black Cat was indeed Rosalia. The deception was up.  For once, Rosalia could no longer hide. And it looked like even Lucifer had forsaken his prized favored witch and mistress.  Perhaps this could be his punishment for her failure to effect the ritual of the Black Mass as planned and the important celebration of the Black Witches’ Sabbath.  

In the Lord God’s name, and by all of His Power and His Glory, Archangel Gabriel stripped Rosalia of all her magical and other worldly evil powers, to include her spirit of immortality.  With this done, she was now a very old mortal women who looked both disheveled and haggard, but was still quite hideous to look upon by all concerned. Rosalia was released to Monseigneur Hardenberg and his priests for confinement, trial, and eventual execution. 

End of Part Six

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany (September 20, 2014)


Long poem by Amber Stratton | Details |

Blinded By Darkness

I was blinded by darkness
Not knowing where I planted each footfall
I had a body I had a heart
I had a mind and most of all a soul
I thought I was alive with happiness and joy
Alive with peace in my soul
But I was wrong dead wrong
I was all but dead to the world
It was Death that captured and trapped me
In a grave not letting go of me
In the end not knowing it was little ol’ me
Trying to breathe trying to fight my way out
Thinking I was almost there to the top but not even moving
I thought I was justified by my negativity and actions
Not knowing it was trapping me further down
Displaying the ignorance of my ways without caring for the ones I loved
The pain of it that was caused went noticed 
Everyone telling me but not realizing it until now
Letting the deceit and evil willingly roll off my tongue
Thinking I was always right on everything
Thinking that all I need was the trust of man
No matter how long I sat by the fire I was cold
Even when the sunlight was resting upon my skin
I was still ice cold as Death’s very own 
I did not think that life would be this dead within
The darkness of the ice cold abyss of the grave yard
Picking and choosing what to do seems right but it wasn’t
Trying again and again until finally picking up the one thing 
That I thought would not help me in the long run
Thinking that I had all the love in the world 
Knowing that nothing can bring me down was one
Of the biggest lies I made myself believe for so long
Thinking I had fait and love in my life but I was wrong
And in the end all there  is was nothing but darkness 
Deceit and evil rolling off the tongues of you so called 
People walking blindly through the shadows
Of the ever present grasp of Deaths darkest abyss
Of all the wickedness that has been committed in my life 
Why now has the Mighty Father and Mother given me a second chance 
Why have they forgiven me of my sins without a second thought
Have I really forgiven myself so the Father the Mother and the Divine
To enter my body my mind my heart and my soul
Has the Lord and the Lady really seen that I have been trying to 
Change and to become an adult woman mentally so my 
Husband can rely on me in the time of need like now
I thought I was ready to begin a life with kids 
Until I realized that I am still one myself
How will the Lord and Lady tell me when I am ready to have
The family I want with my husband who is my soulmate 
All I can do is wait ever so patiently for the moment
The Lord and Lady will tell me when I am ready 
Inside that dark grave a white light came to me
With a hand to pull me out of my hole I dug and saved me
From my own condemned version of hell after praying 
They deliver me from my sins and the trespasses I’ve done
What are people going to do when they see me 
Completely changed after the long visit to LCJ
God and Goddess thank you for saving my when I thought 
There was no way for me to be saved and unworthy of it
Again thank you for everything I currently have
In my life my wonderful loving husband that only
Sees the potential in me all the time and the love he 
Gives so unconditionally to me even when I 
Do wrong in his eyes or the law’s eyes please 
Show him the same lovingkindness and forgiveness you 
Have so heavily laid on me to realize and forgive 
Myself and those around me like I should
Have so long ago when you tried to show me the light
I have forgiven myself of the anger and hate I had
For my adopted family and now it is in the past I cannot 
Change that but however I can change how the future 
Goes by what I say and plan to do now today
I can look back not so long ago the darkness that 
Covered my eyes then and hope the light keeps the veil away
I can see all the negative emotions that were running 
And controlling me I had no idea what to do 
Now I am grateful for the things I have for 
The things I have come to realize on top of everything
I am the most thankful to you in my life 
When I thought I did not deserve the love 
And the care you have shown me 
 
Love is for an eternity, not just a second, minute, hour or even a day. 


Long poem by jack oritx | Details |

A DARKEN ROOM

A DARKEN TALE  
ONCE UPONE A TIME IN A LAND FAR BEYOND THE REACH OF GOD’S  
GOLDEN SKY 
THE DEMONS OF MY SOUL ARE CLUTTERING AROUND THIS  
COLD AND DARK ROOM PATIENTLY WAITING TO SEE ON WHICH ROAD THIS LOST 
SOUL OF MINES WILL TAKE ITS LAST RIDE ON  
FOR AM I TRULY ALONE OR PERFECTLY DEAD 
I WONDER NIGHT AFTER NIGHT  
AS I SIT HERE ON THIS COLD HARDEN FLOOR JUST STARING AT THE WALLS OF  
HEAVEN AND HELL 
AS THEY CRY OUT TO ME  
CHOSE WISLY MY LITTLE ONE 
FOR ONE OF THESE ROADS WILL FREE YOU FROM ALL YOUR BUDERNS AND GRANT YOU  
ENTERNAL LIFE FAR FAR AWAY FROM THIS FORSAKEN PLACE 
WHILE THE OTHER WILL SIMPLE JUST ADORE YOU AS YOUR GENTLY BURNS AWAY 
FOR COULD THIS BE MY UNHOLY FATE TO STAY LOCKED UP IN THIS DARKEN ROOM 
FOREVER WITHOUT NEVER KNOWING THE REASON WHY 
WHY THIS OLD SOUL OF MINES MUST REMAIN SHACKLED TO THIS ROOM 
EVEN THOUGH IT CRIES TO YOU  
PLEASE RELEASE ME FOR MY HEART IS JUST ABOUT TO EXPLODE FROM ALL 
THE YEARS OF EVERLASTING PAIN 
BUT I GUESS MY PLEAS HAVE FALLEN ON DEAF EARS 
SINCE I CAN’T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME I’VE HEARD FROM YOU LAST 
OH WELL 
I MIGHT AS WELL JUST TURN IN FOR A FINAL GOOD NIGHT 
OH BUT WAIT  
WHO IS THIS I SEE FLOATING THROUGH MY WALLS OF TORMENT OF DELIGHT 
WHO IS THIS GHOSTLY FIGURE WHO DARES TO ENTER MY DARKEN ROOM 
FILLING IT WITH SOME KIND OF HOLY LIGHT  
IS THAT YOU GOD 
OR 
IS IT YOUR BETTER HALF  
SHALL I KNEEL BEFORE AND BEG FORGIVENESS  
OR 
SHALL I KNEEL AND BEG YOU TO JUST PUT AN END TO MY POECTIC LIFE  
TO BE HONEST WITH YOU AT THIS POINT I DON’T EVEN CARE EITHER WAY 
ALL I PRAY FOR IS THAT I CAN FIGHT ALL OF MY FEARS AND STILL 
BE ABLE TO WORSHIP YOU ALL WITH ALL MY MIGHT 
OR 
MAYBE THERE’S REALLY NO FIGURE STANDING BEFORE ME 
MAYBE THIS IS JUST A FIGMENT OF MY IMGINATION AND HE’LL JUST  
DISAPPEAR WITH A BLINK OF AN EYE  
BUT INSTEAD OF VANSHING THIS MYSTERIOUS STRANGER SUDDENLY  
REACHED OUT HIS HAND TOWARDS ME AND SPOKE IN GENTLY MANNER 
HE SAID 
GIVE ME YOUR HAND COME AND STAND BESIDES ME 
DON’T BE AFRAID I’VE COME FROM THE PROMISE LAND TO TAKE YOU 
FAR AWAY FROM THIS DARKEN AND TAINTED ROOM  
AND AS I WENT TO TAKE THIS STRANGERS HAND 
SO I COULD FINALLY BECOME FREE FROM THIS DARK AND DREADFUL ROOM 
THAT I’VE BEEN LIVING IN FOR SO MANY YEARS 
MY EYES SUDDEN WIDEN FULL OF FEAR AS THE LIGHT THAT WAS BLINDING ME 
SUDDENLY BURST INTO FLAMES  
SURPRISE!  
THE STRANGER SHOUTED IN AN EVIL LAUGH  
STOP TRYING TO FIGHT ME CHILD 
FOR I PROMISE IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR WRIST STILL 
MY KISS OF DEATH WILL NOT LAST  
NO!  
I YELLED WITH ALL MY MIGHT I CHANGED MY MIND 
I DON’T WANT TO DIE  
AND JUST AS I THOUGHT THAT THIS EVIL STRANGER WOULD OVER POWER ME 
AND END MY LIFE 
A CALM AND SMOOTH VOICE CAME OUT OF NOW WHERE AND ENTERED MY MIND 
IT WHISPERED  
IT’S OKAY NOW DARLING FOR YOU’RE SAFE AND WARM JUST OPEN YOUR EYES 
AND GREET THE EARLY MORNING LIGHT 
WAIT WHAT? 
THIS WAS ONLY A DREAM 
NO IT COULD’NT BE IT FELT TO REAL 
COULD IT 
OH WELL MIGHT AS WELL TURN OVER FOR ITS WAY TO EARLY 
FOR THIS YOUNG POET TO GREET ANY KIND OF LIGHT  
AND AS I ROLLED OVER TO FALL BACK INTO THIS TUNNEL OF DARKNESS 
I’M GREETED WITH A FAMIIAR LAUGHTER  
OH NO 
NOT THIS AGAIN  
 I CRIED TO MYSELF WHILE SLICING THE BLADE DEEPER INTO MY FLESH 
PRAYING THIS WILL BLOCK OUT THIS EVIL LAUGH THAT HAS GROWN LOUDER 
AND LOUDER WITH EVERY SLICE I MAKE BUT THIS ISN’T WORKING 
FOR SOME WHERE IN MY HEART OF HEARTS I KNOW THAT THERE WON’T BE NO 
ESCAPING FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 
NO NOT THIS TIME  
FOR I’M FULLY AWAKE NOW WATCHING AS THE BLOOD FLOWS FREELY 
OUT OF MY OPEN VEINS AND DOWN MY ARM 
AND AS MY BLOOD SPILLS ONTO THE FLOOR THIS EVIL LAUGH CONTINUE TO ECHO 
THROUGH THE WALLS OF MY BEAUTIFUL DARKEN ROOM  
I SLOWLY CLOSED MY EYES ONE FINAL TIME AND SMILED 
FOR NEVER AGAIN WILL I EVER LEAVE THIS DARKEN ROOM AND GREET  
THE HEAVENS GOLDEN LIGHT  
Copyrights © belong to jaci 2006


Long poem by Darryl Ashton | Details |

GOOD GOD AND ALLAH GET DOMESTICATED

GOOD GOD AND ALLAH
GET DOMESTICATED 


Good God and Allah sat
down to eat their meal,
God asked Allah: “Why
do you kneel?”
Allah took his shoes off
but his feet weren’t so
clean, 
So Good God got his 
hoover out and cleaned
them using steam.

You are tickling my feet,
said Allah – please don’t 
don’t do that, 
Shut up whinging, said
Good God – and your
feet are getting fat!
You look so very smart
tonight, said Good God
yawning with a bore,
Oh, thank you, said Allah,
now why don’t you play 
the piano?

Play the piano? But I 
cannot play? 
Oh don’t be a spoil sport – 
we could always pray!
Yes, I know that – we do
that every day – 
We need some excitement – 
and we can shout; HOORAY!

After our meal we can do
some cleaning – 
Who’s bright idea is that  
then - I can’t reach the 
ceiling?
Oh, just sit on the magic
carpet, that you stole the
other day,
And you have the nerve
to seek forgiveness – when
you kneel to pray?

We can both clean our
cave – and evict those forty
thieves,
Who trample all over the 
place – wearing nothing  
but their fig leaves!
Those forty thieves are all
my friends – how dare you
call them that?
Oh, shut up whinging – and
go and feed the cat!

And please stay off the 
mobile phones – and try to
look professional?
We live in a cave you know – 
not an Indian temple!
We’ll have to spray the cave – 
it stinks of curry spices,
How can I bring a lady back - 
and act out some heavenly 
vices?

Heavenly vices, what about
me? 
Oh you can watch if you want
to – or sit firmly on my knee?
Sit on your knee – and watch
you? I’m not a blinking pervert?
Well, you can join in if you so
desire – you can snog that guy
called Bert!       
Who the heck is Bert, I know
not that funny name?
Oh, that’s the guy on the dance-
floor – he danced with that 
great fat dame!

We can invite two lovely ladies,
into our heavenly mosque,
Then sit down, have a beer – 
and haggle on the cost!
Haggle on the cost - what are
you expecting?
Well, you never do know – 
things could get exciting!

We can take them to the 
disco – and bop the night away-
And we can do some somersaults – 
but you always want to pray?
We can take to the dance floor -
both hand in hand – 
Jiving like we are demented – 
to the meerkat rock n roll band?

Who the heck are they, are
they from the temple?
You know; Aleksandr, Sergie,
and baby Oleg – they always
say; “simple!”
Oh, yeah, now I know – I see
them on TV,
Aleksandr, Sergie, and little 
baby Oleg – their toys, they
gave to me!

Gave to you – how do you
mean – you don’t drive a
car?
No, I know that, you silly 
man, but I do smoke a cigar!
And as the politicians keep 
saying; “smoking, is bad for
you” – 
I have to make a claim – and
get quickly what I’m due!

Yes, yes, but that’s in the
future, what about Christmas?
Oh, let that wait – I’m sick
of it – we’d better go to mass?
Well you can go as I’m staying
in – and watch the boring TV,
Well, if you don’t pay your TV 
licence, in prison you will be!

Just then their alarm went off,
and what a dream they had.
Let’s go to the holy temple and
pray for my dad?
Why, what’s special about your
dad – is he still classed as mad?
He used to be a terrorist – oh 
he was very bad!

Okay, old chum, we pray together – 
but please sit over there,
As when you let off an horrible
fart – the stench will fill the air?!
Here’s to good times and freedom
for everyone, 
Now just don’t forget to carry – 
that thing called a ‘mobile phone’?

So, as both Good God and Allah,
both held each other’s hands –
They started to mysteriously dance – 
and also threw in handstands!
Both Allah and Good God – have
now achieved world peace, 
And everyone lives in harmony – 
in the glorious human race!


BY
DARRYL ASHTON  
            
                      


Long poem by Reg Rhodes | Details |

A Mutual Enemy

A Mutual Enemy
By Reg Rhodes



My friend and I have a dangerous and mutual enemy. It is called alcohol, and 
it is killing her. 

Masquerading as her best friend, the alcohol is cunning.  Repeatedly, it sells 
her dreamy promises of escape from reality. 

The alcohol is baffling; it keeps her convinced that she is not sick, that 
another drink wont hurt.  

Powerful in its relentless pursuit of her soul, the alcohol exposes its true 
intentions, slowly draining her life.

Escape from reality was only an alcohol induced illusion, the relief only 
temporary.

Only small traces of her once-vibrant personality remain,  her proud stature 
reduced to an unrecognizable slouch. Her once healthy figure now skinny and 
frail.   
Alcohol; now the great betrayer, is tenanciously pursuing its goal to kill my 
friend, just like it tried to kill me.      

The alcohol is merciless, and it aspires to steal her soul.  

The alcohol is patient; slowly destroying my friends life, drowning her in a sea 
of loneliness and despair. 

She frantically swims for shore, and it is so far away. Miraculously, a raft 
materializes. Gods concern is apparant.  
She rejects the concept of God, even In the face of adversity. She is stubborn, 
and refuses to see the raft, rejecting Gods help. She swims right by.  

The alcohol shows no sympathy; it destroys it's victims slowly and painfully. 

The alcohol is poison in her body; it doesn't care that her liver is shutting 
down. 
It pays no mind to the plethora of mysterious health problems,  the endless 
barrage of doctor appointments or the many surgeries she must endure.   

The alcohol is cunning; providing her with a dark veil of tears, keeping her 
blind to her own terrifying reality. 

The alcohol is the great deceiver; keeping her wrapped in a cloak of denial, 
the pleadings of her friends and family go unnoticed.                        

The alcohol is the great repressor; It stole her smile, her laugh, her 
personality. 

The alcohol knows nothing of love; it has no regards for her kids, her family or 
her friends..    

The alcohol silences her fear of death.  It replaces happiness with anger, joy 
with sadness, and confidence with bewilderment.        

The alcohol is the great supressor. Warnings from her doctors go unnoticed, 
she no longer fears death. 

The alcohol keeps her in a constant state of self loathing, sadness, loneliness 
and fear. 

My friend and I have a dangerous and mutual enemy that preys on our 
unaided will, it makes her blind to Gods love for her.  
Stripped of her many wonderful attributes, she no longer sees his plan for her, 
or what he had in mind when he created her. 
If only she would stop pushing God away, and allow him to embrace her with 
his love, forgiveness, tolerance and understanding. 
If she could only understand that only God can restore her sanity. That only 
he can relieve her of the unbearable cravings and compulsions to drink.
If only she could believe in a higher power greater than herself, give up her 
stubborness, drop to her knees and cry out for help. 

Even an inadvertant prayer can be powerful, provided she has an 
overwhelming, genuine desire to stop drinking.
For her,  a spiritual awakening would mean freedom from the bondage of 
herself. 

A liberating fact for her is that she doesn't have to drink anymore.  
The chaos and turmoil in her life will disappear. 
Tumultuous mental torture will be removed, and she will feel serenity and 
peace. 
She will find that God will do for her what she couldn't do for herself.  

Hand in hand, my friend and I will skip our way along the road to happy 
destiny.  
Our dangerous mutual enemy, no longer a threat.   

  

































Long poem by randall graves | Details |

Seed of Birth

Moments to Reflect
Seed of Birth
After a summer shower I watch the wonders unfold Gods truth is being shown. His love for all shall be known to all who have eyes that can see. The miracle of life that is a delight to behold can be seen in a drop of rain on the end of a leaf. Sparkling like a diamond in the light, more precious than gold, a secret is told. The water of life, without it we cannot go on the earth would be has dry has a bone. A desert: a waste land as hot as Hades and not fit to be called home. The water of life He is known. 
The air so sweet and clean the breath of life He has been called. A blessing from the father it is a Gift given to us all. When the air can been seen it is unclean and in this state I call it satans breathe, oh so foul and within it only death can be found. 
Flower and trees, grass that is so green that there is not any artist in the world that could paint a more beautiful scene. Concrete streets and black top parking lots; progress is what it is called…maybe not. An eyesore, mans’ master piece his legacy, beauty it’s not. 
Like a spring rain or after a summer shower; new life does salvation brings. Like the morning dew shining like tiny jewels, in the sunshine they do glow.  Flowers blooming and life a renewing, with Jesus this is how salvation goes.
Rain can be seen as the world being baptized and cleansed, purifying it of mankind sins. This is a fresh beginning but it not at its end it only truth starts when you ask Jesus to come in.  
After a gentle rain shower our God reminds humanity of His power and His promise: rainbow in the sky a wonderful, magical miracle, truly a delightful sight. His signature written in the sky, proof that He tells no lies; never again with water will He end the world that has bought to Him so much pain. His tears of sadness, never again will the world end with rain. 
The evil one try his best with his temptation and his tests to cause us to die and never to rise; humanity he do hate want to take all with him into that fiery lake. These are the tools of his trade war and strife adding in a touch of worldly lust doing his best to kill our trust in the Lord who has given us so much. The spiritual war is what we are in do not fall for satan schemes. Heaven or hell which one will it be? Like the sun gives life to flower, the Son gives life to all who follows. He who is free is free in deed.
Christ the savior God did send, it shows us that satan cannot win. Like a summer day after a spring rain new life will begin. He will pardon us of all our sins but you must ask him to come in His forgiveness know no end. Open your heart and let Him in then and only then can you win. In Him salvation is guarantee and a new life can begin; so you must choose Heaven or hell where will you spend eternity in? 
God our Father gave His Son to the world so that we would have a path to the truth a light to shine in the darkest of time. Allow His attributes to shine forth you do not would to lose your soul. Before time ever begin He love us, will you not trust in Him sight unseen, the One who gives all life meaning?
All it takes is faith to bypass that fiery lake, because tomorrow is not promise and another sunshine you may not see. Time is on no one side, so do not go chasing rainbows you cannot fly. Keep what real in your mind the reality is sin must die. God give His Son to pay a price that He did not owe, the cost was high, but gift that is given for those who believe; is to be by His side, salvation is free are you ready to receive?
Summer shower and gentle breeze,
Golden flower and dew drops of leaves.
Soft green grass beneath your feet.
                    The only thing sweeter is than life is living with Jesus for all eternity.


Long Poems