This girl, she's crying inside,
But all everyone sees is smiles,
This girl, she's hurting inside,
She's lived like this for quite a while,
Always holding her pain inside,
She won't ruin everyone's time,
This girl, she's breaking down inside,
But all she does is smile,
Those deep eyes,
Hold a lot world of misery,
Playing pictures from her mind,
Showing her past, her history,
She doesn't want to remember,
But the memories continue to play,
Every night she prays,
Wishing them away,
But this girl lies with her laugh,
And hides behind a mask,
So that no-one can see her pain,
Her past, her denials,
This girl, she's dying inside,
Although no-one can see her pain,
She just continues to smile bright,
From day to everyday,
With beautiful lying eyes,
For everyone to see,
Everyone and anyone,
Everyone but me.
Copyright © Loretta Bailey | Year Posted 2011
Here in my room,
I lay in my bed,
With every thought of you,
Intruding my head,
Like snapshots in my brain,
Of the last thing you said,
My gut is violated,
And I twitch with rage,
I cannot free myself,
From this anxiety ridden cage,
And in this chapter of our life,
It seems I can't turn the page,
This torture is much worse,
Since you have been away,
I am so scared,
That away is where you'll stay,
And no matter how hard I try,
I will have to lay here in my room,
Alone one more day.
By Mac Holmes. Janettas grandson.
Written sitting in my room alone still waiting...
Copyright © janetta harrington | Year Posted 2007
The thing with giving is Expectation...
The treasure of giving is the giving itself without expecting anything in return.
A loan creates dependency, inequality.
bend over and kiss you
while you are sleeping
The fragrance of your
Softness of your skin
rub this balm in the palms
of my hands
to warm it, to give you
pause of sickness
softness without pain
And I lift you against me
Smile in your ear
You whisper soft tufts
of warm air in my neck
You give me the gift
expect nothing in return
Only this, be here, with
you alive, I give you my life,
to love you
April 4, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
It was something real -
love's lucidity stretching to eternity.
The dusky pink air of evening, salty gravel underfoot,
and the five o'clock brooding on water and mud flat.
There you were, fixed figure on the landscape,
black irregularity against all that pink,
your solitude clutching at my uncertain empathy.
You wanted to be understood.
It shocked me softly - your impenetrable cocoon,
the warm human reaching,
and the sea of your separation
washing up over my disregard.
Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011
Though my stall here is empty now
If you listen close...
You can hear me running through a greener pasture
Your sorrow opens the gate and releases me free
Thank you for rescuing me from worldly darkness
And giving me love unsurpassed
So that I may now run with others so loved...
But never forgotten
I am a child again young and lean my spirit afire
And oh how our spirits thrive here
Never again to feel the pain of the earth
Hear me running!
For your tears have watered the grasses for me
In God's Greener Pasture
-originally written for Kae Surrah
an Arab rescue mare
Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2016
Nothing is ever black and white,
Who am I to speak - zip it...
I'm not going to lose my head over it.
Well I won't
...but she just might.
Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2016
R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee
Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012
She tries to rearrange the sunrays,
calls clouds clutter,
Namaqualand daisies that stray
are worthy of slaughter,
too erratic, too off-colour
find her unaware, bleed hurts dry,
sand grains are sorted by composition
and size, though many fail
to comply. Secrets, dozens,
this paladin keeps,
their shadows bring chaos
when she submits to sleep. Somehow
she inters her cry,
an art she has mastered.
Hidden, a hint of formaldehyde
in tears, for ghosts return
to box her ears. Few would guess
at the cautions she takes,
how trust strains against barricades.
But love is there, a babe pressing
on crib bars, it stains sleeves,
it fills her ribs and yet somehow,
it dissolves in air. How could she be
so misunderstood, defending
restoring perfect order,
freeing truth from falling stars,
from ancient stairs
and re-gilding tarnished alters.
All she wants is peace,
harmony, everything good,
so she does more,
more than she should, schools truants,
tames the wild
and refuses to falter.
Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2013
Split apart your ribcage,
Open up the corridor, and let me come in
Uneasiness instantly strikes through me
Let me sway away...
Let me flutter away...
Like a butterfly out of its cocoon
I'm trapped!Let me depart
Split apart your ribcage,
Unwrap me, let me go!
Believe me...reflect on me
Let me sway away...flutter away
Let us both seek the sun,
So we can grow together once more
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2010
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.
Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.
Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
people are like stars,
some are younger,
some are older,
some are brighter,
some are darker,
some are bigger,
some are smaller,
but in the end we are all the same.
shining bright with our personality.
dont care about what other people think.
its their own opinion.
be unique,be you.
you are who you are, and who you are is all their gonna get.
so shine like a star!!!
Copyright © mary youkhana | Year Posted 2013
Author: Joseph Osita
From the swamp
Haunts me the tears of my blood
Stripped of all hope-the soil to shelter
And banished to swim in oil-poisoned sea
Do they know
Ghost of revenge haunts the weeping soul?
From the swamp
All sorrow-veiled mourners gather
To unfold reaper's choice of the day
As muscles are crushed by soldiers’ bullet fury
Poised by Hobson's choice
Young men breed strength for crime
For ghost of revenge is haunting the weeping soul
From the swamp
Haunts me the stammering musket of angry souls
Where owners beg stealers the share of oil
And the dead man’s amnesty is of twilight solution
For ghost of revenge will forever haunt the weeping soul
On the oil rich people of Niger Delta who are given peanuts by Nigeria government, despite oil companies’ excessive spillage in the region.
The people hauled their anger against the government but were apprehended by Nigerian Army.
For Michael J Faloticho's 'Sounds of a cry'
Copyright © Joseph Osita | Year Posted 2011
Mother’s dirty offender seeded life that demanded nurture, demanded attention….
Demanded unforeseen fate
Twins, thrust upon her…. strained to love, and yet….
This happening urged her to live
Her head lifted, agitated,
Soaked from head to toe in the sweat of her labors…
The sight of blood reached her tear-blurred eyes heightening the pain
As she cried…
“May I toil till love reaches the mouth of hurt he inflicted!!!”
And, as her thrashing heart ceased beating,
The dear children, were born, one screaming, one gazing…
The other’s neck protruding from a little chest…
Big eyes observing, squinting, shuddering….
Mouth sputtering… and breath ceasing….
This little girl was born, a woman Mother once was—
Her death a source and justification to hate all men
A dreamy-eyed artist with yearnings driving her under,
Lips pure as newfound blossom, kissed once, though never plucked
Reaching for skies that welcomed her wishes,
Her seldom smiles brought tears to the sun
Her hair in curls of silk did bounce upon her back,
As every roving eye could not hold back,
The moist little build-up of awe…
Mouth ajar, for there lived upon this growing girl, surely…. no flaw
Save to her, tormenting imperfection….
For there… heavier and heavier everyday….the secret upon her chest—
Her poor dead brother,
Loved religiously by her martyr mother
Whom she hid under layers of clothes with much shame,
Never to reveal to the men who yearned to see her
Brother was always there, staring into the void,
A tumor child, shriveled, though gazing
A wretched burden to the girl now woman,
Her heart pounding with unanswered questions…
“Father...” She whispered, alone.
“Salt upon the wound, worthless is one consumed,
By death dangling upon my very chest…
I cannot live life like the rest,
The pretty girls of age, with plump and polished breast,
With skin revealed so freely,
Smiles countless, and genuinely……….
See, when a woman is just a woman,
Her opportunities are as easy as her grin,
And her future is clear as her flawless skin…
She bears no little boy attached to her heated body,
She enjoys little frivolous walks in arms she trusts…
Chance seemingly on their side…
Chance with me, dying, where Brother has died…
My heart could not bear to remove Brother,
Though even death I do not fear….
Father, I ask…now why,
Why am I here…?
And why are they gone?
All of them….Mother….Brother…..and…. him….”
Standing up, her face hardened
She put on her clothes and makeup, as was her routine,
And with a multicolored scarf she wrapped around her neck and chest
Covering the outline of her ever-gazing Brother
She could not think away from the scarf…
From what was gazing under…
And upon meeting another,
Anxiety raided her every being…
So afraid….and so unsure….
We are born,
Either man, or woman…
Acceptance of one another’s differences and flaws
Reduces fear of self, replenishes the soul
And love, above all,
Must meander through complications, defects, and serendipity
With a grace only leading one to fulfillment and happiness
-Inspired by Justin Bordner’s ‘When a Woman is Just a Woman’ contest
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
you pick on the innocent
pray on the weak
leave the unwanted in your dust
harming all in your path
they go home
bruised and beaten
filled with tears
a lump in their throats
still a love in their hearts
yet they have more strength
than you ever will
Copyright © courtney webb | Year Posted 2011
"Put on channel seven.
My Lord!! What have they done!
I can not believe it..
they killed my only son!"
Raised with respect.
Never a problem.
Worked hard as a Man.
Problems..he would solve them.
He did well in College..
He struggled..but made it through.
Held his chin up when he was down.
Gods help..guided him through.
He put down his cup of coffee.
Kissed his daughters face.
Ran to catch the bus.
To join the daily race.
On the 105th floor,
"Ding!" and he steps out.
He can already hear.
His boss’s vivid shouts.
We are staring at the screen.
The worst disaster I have ever seen.
The building collapsed.
My heart went numb.
is my only son?
Did he make to the office?
Lord tell me..it’s not true.
God, take me instead of him!
Please help him get through.
"Where is my Daddy?"
I was staring in her eyes..
I saw it then..she realized.
"Why would they do it?
..What have they done?
I said, "We are not to hate but..
..but they have killed my only son."
Copyright © Jennifer M. | Year Posted 2014
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011
See how you left me
Just see how you kept me
A lonely canoe paddler
In turbulent and windy waters
Let me go into oblivion
For i am lost in nowhere
Yea! Let my memory be swallowed
In total and unrepentant coma.
I am not blind yet i cannot see
I am healthy yet very sick
Because you left me with nothing
Gasping for strength in solitude
I turn left, its emptiness i feel
My right holds darkness in daylight
My foot knocks in utter fear, for
Pain has become my friend
You left carrying my love unreturned
Wearing the hood of a stranger
Uttering dark and piercing words
As you sail away to strangeness
Oh just see how you left me
A proverb before many mouths
A walking flesh without bones
Just see how you left me
Copyright © Otome Elisha Okoromoba | Year Posted 2014
I went to the dentist today.
The lady who cleaned my teeth had hair fit for a Weasley with large piercing eyes to compliment. Her name is Sierra, and she is 22 years old.
She asked me if anything had medically changed since the last time I had came.
I told her about my chronic pain and alopecia.
"Is that all?", she innocently questioned. I told her about my anxiety and insomnia.
"What's that sore on your chest?", she probed. I told her about my dermatillomania.
She nodded and got out her tools.
Here, is where I thought the conversation would end.
I'm so thankful I was wrong.
She looked at me with her large eyes and told me that she too has anxiety.
She said she has PTSD from some family issues a couple years back.
She knows what it's like, how it feels.
She sat behind me and asked me how I was coping.
I thought she meant with my mental disorders and informed her I was ok.
The only answer I can semi truthfully give these days.
She asked me if I was sure.
Told me I have sad eyes.
Asked if all of it together was overwhelming.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Yes, it is. It always is.
The only word that managed to escape was yes.
She said that only people who have it can see it in other people.
I have it, I know what she meant.
She recommended certain Melaluca oils to help.
Recommended melatonin for the insomnia.
Said I should text her, call her, Facebook her.
Heck, even make an appointment just for the sake of talking.
She'd go on break and we'd go outside just so I could vent.
Shared with me an inspiring image she loved.
It is a picture of Jesus, smiling, holding his hand out to Peter after he's fallen beneath the waves.
How even though we fall beneath the waves, Jesus isn't disappointed or mad with us.
She said he'll always be there for us.
She said that she knows it's overwhelming, and hard.
But keep your head up above the waves.
She recommended I read a novel titled, "Redeeming Love".
She said it helped her immensely.
Somewhere in here she mentioned I have striking features, and pull off bald better than most.
So much love and compassion radiated from her very words.
I've forgotten what that kind of love feels like.
People who spread compassion and understanding like flower petals give me hope.
Thank you, Sierra.
Copyright © Hailey Coraggioso | Year Posted 2016
Alone; as you lie on your bed
The stars brighten, serene
Such an ecstatically lovely scene
While these visions float in your head
Imagining hues of purple: divisions of colorful red
Teardrop sparks sprinkle the room
All around in sweetness croon
The words unheard, not said.
Beauty beheld in radiant eyes
In you resides the strength of Achilles
Though at war within your smile is silly
All and sundry cries
A child unknown, underlies
This babe: birthed in the lion’s den
Whimpering song of saddened sin
Precious glowing guise.
A moments life on a dealers rate
Mommy’s whoring liquid lance
Living within your secret trance
Ungodly was to procreate
Yet yours is to a tempted fate
To feel, to float, to steal a scream
A life conceived within a dream
With this are you given another date.
Heaven awaits sweet heroin hero
Innocent babe with your precious grin
What you have now is only ten
Seconds counted backwards to zero
Alone to dwell in your place of limbo
A pasture for you, a bed of clouds
One more broken breath allowed
Goodbye sweet heroin hero.
BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
Copyright © Darren J McMurray | Year Posted 2008
I down poison and sleep for days
trying to take the heart ache away
I swallow rasorblades to take the headaches away
but nothing matters its always the same
what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger
liar liar pants on fire!!!!
Overdosed and dieing
survived it and now paying with liver damage and internal bleeding
The car crash of the drunk driver
nail biting aftermath
and another reason to go out and party
for the celebration
of the alcoholic
who just took the life of his best friend
I'm the victom
I'm the victom
I'm the victom he says
but low and behold the survivors in the other vehicle
stronger than ever
all crippled and in wheel chairs
they should really thank the drunk driver and condemn
all the hippocrits who know nothing of survival
so here i am
wishing to be more strong
why bother to exercise
they surely have it all wrong
why pay attention to science any way
all those cliches can tell you about apples and sunshine
but we know what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
so i think I'll cut off my leg
go play in traffic
or fight the wars by doing too much drugs
the place inside the fire can tell you
what doesn't kill you will only make you strong
A second lease on life
a new found reason to get up and go
and find god and praise life
and all the things i should have done
and all the newfound glorious reasons to cry
why oh why oh why oh why
thank you lord thank you Jesus
thank you wars thank you liars thank you lies
thank you doctors thank you poets
thank you psychologists
thank you preachers for truly understanding an age old cliche
I'll peel off this apple to keep the doctor away throw out the core
if it doesn't kill me
I'm probably just weak
and after all the rehabilitation and speach therapy i still don't feel like me
Copyright © Troy Nelson | Year Posted 2007
your velvety blossoms
slowly withers away
once tender roots
have now decayed
at the thought i cringe
such insidious disease
each and every leaf
moldy black spots
crinkled stained edges
your magnificent growth
your unsurpassed beauty
now fuzzed up and gray
crinkled debilated stems
a dull distorted array
shoots barely opened
leaves now curled and bent
such unforgettable moment
your petals soon descend
your spicy scent has drifted
such sickly brittle vein
Flowers now discolored
and left to thrive on pain
after months of nurturing
your once marvelous display
the thought of you slowly wilting
has left me in dismay
*My theme is taken from Constance's Poem "in Memory of a rose"*
Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010
I hold it in
falling apart inside
close my door
walk up the familiar stairs
reach for my only friend
no questions asked
not a doubt in my mind
i tug at my wrist
let my arms Cry Red Tears
full of pain desire hate
tape up the emotions
put away the fears
so i can hold it in
and let my arms Cry Red Tears...
Copyright © courtney webb | Year Posted 2011
They say the one you think of last before sleep,
Is the one you care for the most— the one you wish to hold, admire, love…
The two of us…beings of bravery,
Had labored all the night,
In harmonies livid, longing and bright…
In music so construed in golden blues…
A masterful melancholy in strange, light-stricken hues
He boldly slept, in heavy breath
As I dozed into the deafness of the demons’ wrath
I awoke, unaware of the time at hand,
As he lay there close beside me, cradled in a beat…
I sensed morning’s marvel, thought the darkness crept
Leaving me in a sinking feeling as our Prince vainly slept
And there, with the drumming of his pulse,
I began my morning song of Time,
“Oh, how alive she dares to smile,
In the crisp cradles of first thought
Time, with surging love for the dancing dial,
Melts our sleeper from the wars he fought
I tame her humbly in darkness doomed,
For I know the Lord shuns worry of loss
Unlimited life, craftily bloomed,
I dare paths to narrow, and I dare him to cross
Oh, how in sleep he refuses these dreams,
Of Time’s immense mercy and strength
How his eyes rest, in nightmarish filth it seems,
Tossing in pride, and I in faith
He lifts Time’s feathered mess
In an embrace he calls his own consolation
In his deranged, dreadful wilderness,
She waits in ardent resurrection…”
He began to groan in his sleep,
Tossing and turning…
His lids lifted, though his eyes were trapped
In a dream so unnerving and unwavering
I could do nothing but sing again…
“Wake up in the comfort of company
As she gathers the feathers you lift,
I will see too that she is smiling
In the morning mist of bliss
Let the veils of night terror arise
So I may see the life in your eyes
As the lizard on the rock bathes in warmth,
I suffer with you, saturating cold
Time offers space between,
As the trees in winter soon return to green…”
He was awake, though grimacing
Angered by my gentle push
Pissed that I sat there before him
No longer trapped in his soot…
“Time, time, time…
You’ve bored me in your rhyme, rhyme, rhyme-
Witness wretched reality, sweetheart divine-
Then we can talk about the slut you call Time!
Bitching and raving how she has bludgeoned all these men,
With the sweep of her arms, she crushes all condemned
She mocks me now, after screwing me naughty
Her feathers scattered across my body
I curse every morning I see her face
I love how she beats me, and then demands embrace
I hate her, woman, as I hate you
I lift her to throw her down,
As the cockcrows coo…
I am in Time, over Time, beyond Time
Cross in her spirit—frail in her rhyme
If your Lord has taken anxiety from your heart,
Have him take your innocence—now that is her art!”
He laughed, cackling loudly,
And the demons chiseled,
The soot on the ground grew hot and sizzled
My lips moistened with tears…
“I thought about how strangely you slept,
Even in your bitterness for dwindling Time…
In our last notes before drifting,
I thought of you,
And all the days we have left
I want you to know my light is kind,
And we can all learn in the rhythm of Time
She is very sensitive,
She weeps at every loss,
Though secretly, though in day she boldly stands
At night she lets down her hair and grieves demands
For not everyone can she save,
Truth it be, she has saved no one
But has inspired men to the end…
No one knows Time better than God
And yes, you too must know her well,
She labors as we sleep
Though she would be hesitant to tell…
She destroys…though inward she heals
She sees potential, though leaves the action
To the one who truly feels…”
“Stop singing in riddles and nonsense…” He sputtered
“If sleep is so important to you,
Why do you force me awake?”
He sat up, quaking, his anger loud
I shuttered in his presence, looking down
“Just… sing with me…..”
And we sang…
“She is cruel,
She is patient,
Living in darkness and in light,
I rest her in my trust,
And I in my ceaseless bite
I lull her,
I seduce her,
She calls me,
Time, do not forsake me now…
Let our thoughts nestle in each other’s company
With the clocks that capture us…”
At the tipping of Death’s dark chimes,
The Devil’s mouth salivated in restful rage
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
Is it cause youre small minded Mr jones asks the many voices who once had
repect counting the crows pecking the and gouging out their eyes?
Is it cause you loathe what you dont understand and this revelation is something
they need to see in themselves?
Is it the fact you carry a heavy load and need a helping hand
was it the opium you down like poison that you Jones for
leaving you to ask who i am?
Whats the will I am saying?
as he steals my spotlight
leaving me here assassinated verbally like a sitting duck
sure im no hippy sniffing daisies
pounding on drums in peace beads begging for sex
with a picket sign saying peace please
Is it because im gay?
Is it because im spiritual?
do we have penis envy?
Have you read the lists?
are you going to pay the tithe?
and before you mash the send button with snide cruel bitter comments
don't think twice
the murder of crows circling
cawing in the blood moon sky
November rains down on this wedding day
and I am forever by your side
why does my will
the will i am hate me?
is it a syndrom of an itchy trigger finger
an itch below the waste
why must everyone pull eachother down
back into the boiling pot
like the crabs we truly are in this amazing race
to lose it all
and sing and
sway and praise
and humm such blasphemous amazing grace
of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes
oh sweet sugar coatings
and icing on the cake
The will iam
I wonder counting crows
a famous last name with me
why do you hate the will I am
Is it because i read tarot cards?
is it because i'm gay?
is it because i'm amongst favorites?
is it because im controversial?
is it because you have nothing to say?
but who am i flamethrower
i sit here a hack
with a curse gor the harpie you are
and a smile upon my face
i throw this effortless nothing
and never look back
the stone falls into the pool of the abyss
oh will i am
why do you loathe what you dont understand?
Copyright © Troy Nelson | Year Posted 2007
In a little town
with a little street
and single traffic
was a tiny diner
with just a few people
among them Robert
and his wife Francine
who for twenty years
order the same things,
pancakes with butter
for mister Robert
omelette with truffle
for Mrs Francine
the same time forever
the same routine
but one morning
oh what morning
Bob came alone
and ordered for two
this is for Francine
said with some guilt
that came just alone
and time, what time
it was going quick
and Bob the postman
it was growing sick
pancakes and the omelette
were freezing quick
waiting for Francine
but she never came
because was killed
from a drunk driver
who got in wrong place
in the wrong exit.
Rob the postman
comes all alone
and orders for two
pancake with butter
and truffle omelette
the first is for me
second for Francine
she is coming late
because the traffic
after sitting lonely
with coffee across
he gets up,awake
goes back to work
aged a million
and totally lost...
Copyright © Dino Spahillari | Year Posted 2016
Water / Water
New Hamburg, Ontario Rubkuai village, South Sudan
locals rise locals starve
with the river, heed warnings where once there was a river,
to keep from its banks travel along arid banks
thirty thousand gallons a tanker arrives with a few gallons
of unwanted rain rain is worth all limbs
burdens how burdened the village —
storm drains the drought drains life from fields
this summer, filled sport bottles this summer
will be abandoned near will crust tongues
splash pads, as the dying
where saturated children riot tend to the dead
in mist & spray, soak in inconsolable mothers silently
the never-ending fount riot [eyes too dry to mist
until fingers prune, can still spray bullets
until thirst or thirst for just one more look
sends them skipping as irises prune in the sun]
cars gleam and grass grass is a memory
springs underfoot; & graves spring up underfoot
the bridge is power- like emaciated bridges
washed, as though the downpour nothing stops the downpour
hadn’t flooded of diarrhea — the filth binds
spider’s webs cholera’s web
people shower, run half-filled people kneel for droplets
dishwashers & laundry machines, the desert launders
a kettle screams the jawbone
for someone, of the newest ghost who still
anyone to listen listens, waits, for anyone
Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2017
I've watched her vanish and dietirate into withering roses.
The pain that takes over her body is spreading fast and furious,
and only weakens her!
How can she bring so much light into a room of darkend souls, with her smile,
When she has only those two weeks to remain?
Why her a mother and new bride?
She doesnt want to miss a thing in her young boys lifes.
But... she already knows how it will be and how it will come.
Six days, six days she had before the death withen her took
one last breath, and she vanished into the atmosphere and left.
Copyright © Emily Kroeger | Year Posted 2009
A single bird rests above
Singing over and over again
The same notes in the same logical order
Again and again
Seconds, minutes, hours pass
The song never changes
Doesn't it know what is around it?
Doesn't it see the world below?
The grass and flowers
The small dogs yelping as they chase a ball
Doesn't it see the two people in love?
The two who want a beautiful melody
A melody that matches they way they feel
Soft lilting music
Notes that match the sound of the breeze
The distant waves
Does the lonely bird care?
Does he see the reds, golds and yellows of the sunset
Muted by grey skies
Chased by true blackness
Do the notes reflect the sadness of a sunset?
Colors lost never to be seen again
Or do they just repeat?
Again and again
Until the grass, the dogs, the lover and the sunset
Fade into the darkness
Into a distant memory
And the bird, still singing the same notes
Never realizing that he is not fully alive
But knowing that his music is still logical.
Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2008
The decanter is filled with chicory blooms
(blue, for the sky is her pleasure)
while the snapshot turns nigrescent
marking rain for the evening weather
The ring with which they two had wed
lay gilded 'round her finger
With her eyes closed oboes quarreled
'gainst the scent of him, that lingered.
Her languish comes but once a day
She turns to the mackerel sky
and sits upon her lonely porch
In sight the ibis fly.
She remembers sweet the sparkling mint
his eyes had held in winter
and the rush of tangling wild wars
they waged when he did kiss her.
As evening falls the grass gives up
it's scent from dew to rain
and again her footsteps lead her
to a solitary grave.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
They told me..forget it..!
They confused me..
They ordered me...
"Control your thoughts.."
Whenever I see flowers...
My heart leaps with joy..
But when I reach near...
Whenever I see babies...
My heart leaps with joy..
But when I reach near...
Whenever I look in mirror,
It frightens me.........
THE SCAR !
Copyright © THUSHARA JAMES | Year Posted 2007