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Best Poems Written by Richard Lamoureux

Below are the all-time best Richard Lamoureux poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Broken People

I wish to be with the broken people
the get in your face challenge me people
The sometimes hidden
sitting in a dark corner kinda people
The don't you love me
I wish you seen me sorta people
People just being real people
not having to have it all together people
Them doing their best to figure it out people
dancing and singing without the smooth moves people

I don't care about the color of their skin
or what others think of as their sin
They don't need to be perfect to win
seeing and listening is where I'll begin
Beyond appearance of fat or thin
I only know what I know
I've never been where they've been.

We'll start 
with our broken smiles
It's the best we've got
It might seem like so little 
still I think it's a lot
Through life's struggles we've all fought
lessons needed learning
experienced not taught
real is real it couldn't be bought

So forget the fake people
the all about perfect hair and clothes people
The I live in the right neighborhood and drive the right car people
It's all about me, top of the hill people
They only hang out with the supremely cool people
those too important to talk to me people
thinking they're the best of the best kinda people
when all along they are merely Sheeple 
ba ba baaing, thinking they are strong instead of feeble

I love characters 
people who are unique
I look under exteriors to gain a peek
strength of lions disguised in meek
unconcearned with fab or being chic
Worth listening to if allowed to speak
the stories they tell will make your eyes leak

For in the end
we are all broken
stumbling and choking
Disguising hurt with our joking
victims of others and their poking
So look close maybe you'll see
eyes that aren't blank 
hearts that aren't empty
Who we think of as complicated
in the end might not be
They might push when others come close
yet they are affectionate times three
Each just a bit afraid and broken 
all the while wishing  
and wanting to be
A part of something
If only we choose to see
those on the fringes
are a part of the we
All we have to do 
is let them be!

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Big Girls Do Cry

They expected her to be the jolly fun one.
The one   w e a r i n g   a smile on her face.
So she became.....who they wanted her to be
She was quick with her wit, telling her practiced fat jokes.
It was a pre-emptive strike of sorts
her attempt to remove the target
from what some thought was her "considerable ass".
Never again wanting to be the "butt" of people's jokes!

She remembers the year she was "Chubby Checker"
the year her parents gave her that checkered jacket
she also remembers how hard she cried.
They laughed, and one boy sang 
"Big Girls Don't Cry----- they don't cry!"
She vowed to herself on that very day
"I will never ever cry again!"

There were the many diets
the yo yo effect..."Yo big girl, lookin good"
 Friends asking her “have you lost weight?"
Those "good for you’s!!!!
The attention felt good in a way
but the weight she'd lose seemed to come back the next day.
Somehow the cursed food felt like her only true friend
the only one on whom she could depend.
The food never judged her
instead it filled the empty sad part
the part that weighed nothing
yet felt like it weighed a thousand pounds!
The part that felt lighter when she was full
it somehow felt like a hug from the inside.

She stopped eating in public
not wanting to hear comments like
"she could do without that ice cream."
There were also the buffet comments
"She's going to get her money's worth!"
Still what hurt even worse
were the nice people
the trying to be kind people
the ones who felt sorry for her people
Saying "all you need to do is lose a few pounds." 
or "you have such a pretty face." 
Some people would tell her "You're just big boned."
Then there was comment she hated the most
"You have such a great personality!" 
For she knew it was all part of the "Fat Girl Show"
the persona she had gifted to them.

Then came the day
that epic day she stopped joking.
When she smiled when she wanted to smile
when she dressed in the ways she wanted to dress.
She embraced the form she was given
she celebrated all her curves.
She decided to eat when she was hungry
nourishing and loving her body
she allowed colorful foods to occupy her plate.
Strangely, she started losing some weight
but it wasn't her goal
for inside she was becoming whole.
Skinny was not who she needed to be!
When tears came she allowed them to flow free
she was no longer her own enemy
The more she cried
the less she felt her empty.

She learned, everyone
y e s.... everyone,
has some kind of insecurity!
No one is completely who they wish to be
some have hidden bits
others are more obvious,
even if   some are somewhat oblivious.
She now has learned to be a compassionate witness
one who is much kinder to herself
she doesn’t keep her thoughts on a shelf
So, when others make jokes
or give painful pokes...
She tells them "That's hurtful and it's not okay",
"I am who I am and I'm perfect this way!"
Maybe next time they will consider what they say.
For today and tomorrow and every other day forward
she is more than some number on a scale that she weighs
or some joke in an insensitive phrase.
She now can be and see her true self in extraordinary ways.

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Cup of Empty

She pours him a cup of empty
From a teapot of childhood dreams
He loves the sound of her giggles
Hers is the light of a thousand moonbeams

Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud, crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip

He lifts a cup of empty
and gives his baby a wink
"Mmmm, dear darling, this is so delicious,
it’s the very best I've ever had to drink"

In the evening he turns to his bottle
With his friends he goes to the bar
She faithfully waits for hours
Thinking "Dear daddy, I wonder where you are?"

Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud, crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip

She sets their table and faithfully waits,
hoping that daddy will be coming home soon
But her tired eyes give way to sleepy
as her Teddy watches under the moon

He comes home way after midnight
Sees his angel asleep on the floor
Smiles and sips a sip of empty
and thinks "I shouldn't drink anymore"

Years have a way of taking
She doesn't wait for daddy at home
She's found a new kind of pleasure
Her hunger grew from being alone

She fills her veins with her empty
Has dreams she can't explain
Trades her body and those giggles
In hopes of escaping her pain

Moonbeams and butterflies, petals from roses
Counting out loud crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip

Daddy sat home, and he waited
His baby girl she never came home
He still drowns himself in his bottle
But now he drinks all alone

Her teacup sits on the counter
Emptied of her childhood dreams
He misses the sound of her giggles
and the light of a thousand moon beams

He lifts the cup full of empty
To his lips and takes another drink
Empties out the rest of the bottle
As his pain is poured down the sink

Moonbeams and butterflies, petals and roses
Counting out loud crossing fingers and toeses
Unicorns and Teddy all enjoying a sip
Cups full of empty never spill and can't drip

He traded what was real for his empty
As she relinquished her childhood dreams
Now his baby girl has flown to heaven
On the light of a thousand moon beams

He wishes he could be with his baby
Lift her cup and give her a wink
Say "Mmmm this is so delicious,
it's the best I've ever had to drink!

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Yellow Shoes In the Darkness

Walking through the land of shadows 
wearing my yellow shoes
With each and every step
I created color and hues

The shadows started retreating
As color permeated the ground
Out of the shadowy darkness
I heard a horrible sound

"You do not belong here
I command you to go away
You are in the land of darkness
You must listen to what I say"

I kept on moving forward
Not sure what I would see
Where was the voice coming from
I looked behind a tree

Light and color expanded
Traveling up straight to the skies
The entity that so scared me
Was right before my eyes

As my shoes banished the darkness
The entity was reduced to tears
Without the aid of shadows
He couldn't tap into my fears

I then reached down to touch him
I told him that he was safe
He looked up with confusion
As I gazed upon his face

"Are you here to destroy me?
Have you come to take me away?
There is a purpose for shadows
They create hope for brighter days."

I heard what he was saying
The shadows have their reason
In order for spring to come
We need a darker season

So I removed my yellow shoes
Watched as the shadows returned
It was time for me to go home
With this strange lesson I had learned

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Pretty Shoes and Cracked Feet

Once I'm gone 
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part 
on this watery ball of granite and clay

Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave 
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part 
trying to find people to save

Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone

Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed 
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity 
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Doors

There are so many doors
Which ones should I choose
Green, yellow, brown, purple
and many different blues

Some of them are rustic
Others modern and clean
Some lead to the future
others back where I've been

Some doors open easily
while quite a few are locked
There are some left open
and others that are blocked 

A few so enticing 
promise pleasure within
They are slightly hidden
so few will see me sin

I look through some keyholes
wondering if I'll be safe
I see rooms of plenty
and tables draped in lace

The doors that are daunting
they fill me with such dread
for I know there's sadness
in the land of the dead

Many doors are happy 
Friends and loved ones are there
those doors are the best ones
being with people who care

Behind some there's music
Pleasured time we can share
Moments of pure magic
those times are far to rare

Doors leading to adventure
Made me glad I took the chance
The sheer exhilaration
that caused my spirit to dance

Some doorways disguised as books
Yes they caused my mind to grow
They pointed to other doors
so I knew which way to go

The doors that I left closed
In the end I don't regret
They could have brought me ruin
or led my soul into debt

Of all the doors I'll walk through
The final one is the best
For there my Saviour waits
therefore, I know I am blessed

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Prejudice

I hate 
your brownness 
your whiteness, 
your blackness
your freeness
I don’t care about niceness
I’m more partial to meanness 
 
I’m all the things bad
ugly and cruel
my venom pure evil
I’m partial to a fool

No one is safe
no not Christian or Jew 
If you’re  Buddhist or Muslim
I will hate you too

Richer or poorer
or shades in between 
I will exploit your weakness
That’s always been my scene 

Woman or man
Transsexual or gay
those straight as an arrow
they’ll all forget to pray

Fear and deception 
are the tools of my trade
Sometimes the water looks calm
but it’s a trap I have laid

Love is the weapon
I most truly despise
Because it reveals who I am
and it opens your eyes

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Boy Oh Boy and a Girl

I wish to claim
My boyness
My yesterday sillyness
Innocent shyness
My crinkled nose grininess
That hide and seekiness
Spin the bottle 
kind of geekiness 

Getting caught 
My hand in the cookie jarness
That pushing too farness
Collecting comic charminess 
Pulling pigtales
Stolen kisses
Hidden playboy kinda business
Cop a feel inquisitiveness

Being a bit
Self conscience  
A true life witness
Loving the mysterious 
Laughing more than being serious
Feeling delirious 
Not afraid
Somewhat curious

Wondering
About adultness
What it was all aboutness
Thinking that it leads to freeness
I'd know just how to be-ness
Eating what I want 
Staying up late kinda keeness

Now I wonder
What was the rushness
To reach adultness
Full of it's doubtiness
What's it all aboutness
I witness it's dreamlessness
It's no longer about me-ness
More mundane
To much saneness
Routine and sameness
No one cares if you cameness
Less is less
And more is moreness
Can't see the trees
Through the dark forest

So grab onto your girliness
I'll bring my boyness
There will be more
Way more 
Yesirey
Hotdigity
Joyousness 
No more boringness 
We'll spin in circles
Enjoy our dizziness 
After all
Having fun
Is a serious business!



For Nina Parmenter’s Tongue Twister Contest.
I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it.

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

She Touched the Water

She Touched The Water

My muse
touched the waters
of a spring fed river
She had a special gift to deliver
Releasing the inspiration 
from deep within her
She said “ Drink please witness 
about saint and sinner.
Surrender your mind 
become a true believer.
The line between real and fantasy,
you can make it thinner.”

So with my cupped hands
I began to deeply drink
Muted greys 
became a vibrant pink
Thoughts and ideas
were transformed into ink
It was all so fantastic
those things I could think
She said “Write them all down
or they’ll be gone in a blink.”
Not all thoughts were happy
some they made my heart sink.

The more I drank
the more I was elated
Oh how easily 
I concentrated
Ideas expressed
tales of wonder consecrated
Secretly I craved 
being congratulated
What was written felt solid
those things I created
Wise, wonderful words
emotionally weighted
Wanting more and more 
I couldn’t be sated

My magical muse
began to worry about me
Who I was
or might soon be
She said “I must share 
this burden to set you free”
So next to the river 
she planted flowers and trees
Other poets coming
abated my dis ease
She told them “Drink from the river,
as much as you please!
If you don’t I will cause it to freeze.”

Our Muse whispered loudly
“Poets take your words near and far.
Be true kind and vulnerable
let people know who you are.
Hide messages in bottles
Transport people to a distant star
Sing from the rooftops
Tell Limericks in a bar
Poetry is music
play tunes on a guitar
Shine bright like a fire fly
that has escaped from its jar!”

Together we have community
Being with the rare few
Who share our lunacy
The ones able to decipher
these things that we see
For us it’s a river
this place we love to be
Gardens free of enemies
Green grass, rivers and trees
We gather by the shore
like birds and bees
You are welcome to join us
stay for as long as you please!

Details | Richard Lamoureux Poem

Slave

Like a herd of cattle, placed on a ship.
Upon my back, I felt their whip!
Ripping into my flesh, excruciating pain.
Forced across the big water on a trip.

Living in darkness with little to eat.
The feel of chains around my feet.
Amidst tortured cries, the ship did shake.
Waves pounded the hull with relentless beat.

Only once a day, would we see the sky.
Huge sails, caused the ship to fly.
Further and further away from my home.
Feeling confused not understanding why!

A white devil, steered the wooden ship.
All his mates evil with scabbed putrid lips.
Yet we, depended on them for our lives.
Without them, into the ocean we'd slip.

The journey long, felt like an eternity!
I longed to be anywhere but on the sea.
My mind occupied with thoughts of my home.
yet, I could not escape this horrible enemy!

Sick and dying were forced to walk the plank.
Then into the cold water they quickly sank.
The sailors laughed, as the last man was tossed!
Their spirits boistered with the rum they drank.

Many days later we finally made land.
A place of stone and wood, I could see no sand.
Crack of the whip, we rose to our feet.
"Off of my ship!"was the devil's final command!


For Verlena's "Writing in a black Perspective" Contest



Story continued for my own pleasure, not part of the entry.

Slave Part Two

Brought in chains, to a raised wooden stage.
Bids tallied carefully, sales written on a page.
That was when I witnessed, a most perfect girl.
Bought by a fat man, she was placed in a cage!

I was up next, I stood still as he bid on me.
"One dollar, gimme two, two dollars, sold for three!"
Then I was taken and locked up in the cage with her.
Together we both dreamt, of one day being free.

Brought to the plantation, in late September.
I worked in cotton fields, until November.
Then I would be purposed, to cutting fire wood.
For cold and snow came, by early December.

In the evening, we were left to be with our kind.
While in the big house, our master dined.
Later at dusk, my angel girl would come.
Her beauty so amazing, she made me blind!

The taste of her body, my rememberance of home.
We gave each other pleasure, when we were alone.
Even though the master, wanted her for only him.
I felt like a free man, when I would hear her moan!

Her pregnant, I wondered if the child was mine?
If I was the father, I would be bound in twine.
Still inside I prayed, that the child belonged to me.
In the end, that would be certainly be fine.

Nine months later, almost to the day.
The love of my life was taken away.
In death our child born, middle of September.
The master's anger, I could not sway.

I was awoken, ripped out of my bed!
He took out a musket loaded with lead.
Finally free, in spirit we both travel.
There are certainly worse things, than being dead!