I can't believe he has to be a poet
To tell you how he feels
Maybe he does not know
When words are written on paper
does not mean your wounds
are going to heal properly
To be or not to be?
That is the question you should ask.
The man should never call himself a poet
Unless he has lived, learn, lost, and gained it back
The man who writes good poetry
In my eyes is a man of art
He can paint you anything without a paintbrush
This man I call a poet, with a colorful heart
Using all his manly skills
He is way ahead of the ordinary man
Leaving the imagination, filling the soul with chills
aroused ------- he calls for me
While (I) the woman swims in tears
She finds herself helpless
Without a man, she thinks she is lost, nowhere to be found
The secret of the female
When she is broken
She begins to feel and thinks life is over
Little does she know her time will come
When the time calls
The lady is stronger than ever
One thing I learned about a lady
You better respect her (me)
Don't destroy (my) her better days
She will crumble you
She will crush you where it hurts
This is my demo to all ya poetry freaks
Keep it real!!
Don't steal my words.
I have feelings too:)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Nineteen twenty-four and the wind was cold,
When men in uniform entered our town;
Forced us to leave in their boxcars,
Made us believe that it was for our own safety.
With no time to fix our things
We hurriedly got in the box.
And when everyone was in,
The doors were locked.
The place was hell
For not even a whisper of wind
Could enter the place,
Nor could a light shine through its walls.
Our eyes were dry and lips cracked
Plead for just a single drop;
As four nights and days we travelled
Inside the cars with no food or water.
The box unimaginable in its very state,
For dung and human liquid fragranced the place.
Weak-hearted both young and old struggled to live
Even the strong wished not to survive.
And on the fourth day, the box went to a halt!
Survivors were singing songs to God;
“Please end this tormented journey,
And deliver us home safely.”
Light shone as the heavy doors were opened!
We dropped to our knees
Hoping the place was Paradise
But Paradise was it not for we were in Hell.
Ironically, the gate held words
Like that as ‘Beware of the Dog.’
Written in frostbitten wood saying:
“ARBEIT MACHT FREI.”
My mind was puzzled upon seeing those,
How could labor set you free,
When labor here meant
Dying in force and agony.
Jew, work or die!
Jew, never complain and lie!
Those were the words
That became music in our ears,
As we bent our bones
Working for freedom that is bound.
Jew, form your lines!
Jew, the choosing has come!
And in this place we call Hell,
An Angel waits for preys.
Not to feed to its cherubim
But to the ovens decay.
Jew, old and sick!
Jew, to the ovens burn!
As the sun paints the sky red,
A gray smoke danced with the setting clouds,
And in the heavens, the old and sick smile
Grateful to be forever free from the Angel.
On and on, the days passed by
Not faster but years it seem.
Millions were killed by the monsters of time,
Feeding them to the hungry gas ovens.
Then one even night,
I dreamt of food, of home,
Of freedom and safety
And a voice calling me to follow.
I had no choice but to obey,
For in that moment I was already tired,
Sick and losing hope that once was mine
But seem to be forever lost.
On the 16th of March,
I lied still in my shelf.
I slept forever smiling,
With my red babushka in hand.
But disappointed and angry was I
To share the very day of my death
To the birth of the Malach-ha-mavis:
The Angel of Death.
Copyright © Joseph Sabido | Year Posted 2011
--Goodbye--To my Addiction-
The time has come to part,
I will leave many with broken hearts
If one day you call on me,
I'm sad to say I will hold my tongue missing each one relentlessly
I'm not doing this for me; I am doing this for you
I could stay here and win, and not give in
But, this soup bowl comes with demons and nasty shadows
Demons and nasty shadows, taking and crashing my light
Demons I had to fight off the entire time I was here
Shadows hating the way I welcomed every poet with a happy cheer
Demons and shadows whom drown in their selfish everyday pity.
For those smiling on my departure,
I want you to have this wonderful gift
So please copy paste this moment from the bottom of my heart
**I hope this gift brings you laughter, knowing
I've been sad, these past few days, drying up my final soup tears**
I will miss this part of what makes me ME -my love and lust for poetry.
I agree with many I should never surrender to the envy of demonic dust
Giving up the passion that completed a part of my soul for years
But, the reality of life, is the life's I give and given when I make love happen
In my heart I know it's time to give myself back to reality
SO AT THE END I WIN, I'm the one who ends up with an everlasting smile
I'll finally be free from this place, where most treated me unfair & unkind
Free, from the negativity of the few who hide behind a dishonest disguise?
Wait until you notice your soup bowl's going stale
You will miss me, and I will miss you
But, my enemy will miss me even more
Reminiscing the times we spent hogging up 70% of blogs,
Arguing and fighting over not agreeing with many thoughts.
But, it was never the differences of opinions, it was more like---
Let's slay the Destroyer, a name like that should never be on top
So please know I am sad, and this is not the way I want to go
I'm not leaving you because I want to
I'm leaving you because, the rumors are
"The soup is better without the sweetness of the poet destroyer."
The only big thing about me -was my heart not my ego
I never claimed to be the best;
You're the one who claimed I am good enough
You took me in and returned my love
In ways others could and would not accept.
And for you my loving poet friends, and fans
I will walk away with my dignity/integrity;
I can CARELESS IF I PLACE OR DON'T PLACE IN YOUR CONTEST
I guess I'm finally growing up
In becoming the bigger/better poet.
Signing Off ---Love
The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
I used to be a dreamer
Growing up within my mind,
I was no heavy sleeper
By creativity confined
I used to be a hero
One day, and then the next
I could've been Jack Sparrow
Prancing between the decks
I used to live in a circus
With carousels and flying cats,
I'd muck about without a purpose
All day out, with Mr. Tall Hat
I used to be a rarity
From anyone else, I was unique
I used to live in fantasy
Believed in fairy tales, even magic
Today, I am another person
As normal as they define
Too scared to be uncommon
Afraid to be left behind
Today, I live in blunt reality
A world of black and white,
that outlaws every little oddity
and punish them on sight
I have been dead before,
When they took my dreams away.
Copyright © Christy NP | Year Posted 2014
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013
the jaguar's tear
slides off his single whisker
clouds do sigh
dragged into the river's teeth
they both stretch
the moment of sorrow lost
life leaps on
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
I was moving way too fast for you,
it took me a little while to realize
you had reached your plateau.
My sights were on the infinite universe,
but yours was always without goal or prize,
our love became a coffin and you were a hearse.
We once made love under the stars and the
Milky Way was reflected in your pale green eyes,
you failed to comprehend the majesty of infinity,
and sulked about the wet grass and humidity.
We sailed along the Nile to wonder at ancient
temples and walk like an Egyptian in the
Sahara Desert, "Could have read about this place
in a book", you did frustratingly assert.
I rhapsodized about the beginning of deep time to when
mankind will be superseded and obsolete, yet your passion
was for a silly T.V show called Coronation Street.
I felt my zest for learning and life slowly evaporating from
my blood and bones as I watched you eat your daily
4 PM butter and scones.
I was slowly becoming asphyxiated by your insipid routine,
your life ruled by the clock and nothing shall come between.
Those months slowly turned into dreary years and I was resigned
to a death by boredom, I prayed to the Grim Reaper,
I was slowly dying of ennui and you were insouciant and blind,
my penchants for discovery were locked away and you
became the doorkeeper.
The fire in my belly was merely a dying ember gasping for air,
I stumbled upon a provocative and tempting fate who was
beyond compare, secretly charming me to end this nightmare.
Patiently, I plotted my escape from your castle of lackluster
dreams and its moat of banality, over those humdrum hills
to a land overseas and renewed vigor and vitality.
Copyright © Chris Peers | Year Posted 2016
My feet drowned water
My fingers ate dirt
My mouth failed filth
My heart beat yours
While trying to kick habits
You silenced my life
Suffocated spring rain
Melted snow white pleasure
My eyes burned charcoal
My toes grew deep roots
My waist encircled
Your hate with metal
Today your cold bed
Will wither and wilt away
The story I needed to tell you
I take with me without regret
Our story ends here.
Mine now begins.
April 8, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
I do not know?
they end all fight
the bride with no veil
to see with no eyes
why do we despise
as the world does turn
our minds they do churn
thinking too much
my mind loses clutch
and the wall does grow
so high i cannot throw
my words at your mind
they fall short then behind
frustration sets in
as the sun goes to fin
the darkness will win
not i as this is my sin
i will glance with no stare
find the pain that is there
and the wind will be fair
as it carries my prayer
one day you will feel
what i meant to steal
as the darkness will peel
my pain from this real
communicate i cant
i try but its faint
i turn on my pain
i turn on my pain
i turn on my pain
i cannot regain
i want to show the day
that the sun will remain
as the clouds unite
they don't end all fight
it is i that must cite
it is i that must fight
for only i can prevail
only minds can grow stale
if not used you will trail
if not used you will fail
if not seen its your grail
if not noticed your in hell
i will try to tell all
i must try to not fall
only you will be seen
in my eyes of ever clean
that the tears will one day fall
down my cheek in all glory
as they will be of not pain
but rejoice as i gain
and rejoice we shall reign
to the water of no shame
as i finally can blame
no one else for my rain
and all the world will see
it was i that was freed
it was i with no creed
that was released to bleed
Copyright © Penn Kname | Year Posted 2006
As happy melodies hum,
Underneath, the sounds of sadness come,
Provoking all the sorrow and fear,
That all hearts are forced to hear,
Looking at the glowing mirror,
Seeing the reflection of “Myself”
Shadow less, I stand,
Contemplating the solid glass, imagining “Me”
Hearing the terrified breaths of “Myself”
While inside, I am touching the joyful “Me”
That an eye no longer can see,
No sympathizing, no sympathy,
Through “Myself” I could feel my lonely soul,
Desolated from the incomprehensible world,
Surrounded by rhythms created by void,
That I hear “Myself” continuously sing,
My soul sees through “Me,”
Unleashing the pain, making freedom surround,
But “Myself” comes and interrupts,
My freedom and my soul begin to corrupt,
“Me,” someone that no longer lives,
Someone that tries to forgive, “Myself”
The person that took place,
The person living a life drenched with dimness,
“Me,” is gone,
“Me,” has disappeared into non existence,
My soul is surrounded by “Myself”
Cherishing “Me” by the colorful memories...
Copyright © farah chamma | Year Posted 2006
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change
People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.
People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names
The list could go on
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou,
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew
George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise
Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X,
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle,
But obviously greatness can be done.
We can rise above this stigma
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2011
Based on a true story from a television documentary on Human Trafficking...an international crime with participants from a broad spectrum of society...occuring on a daily basis. I have only seen documentaries on the trafficking of young girls between the ages of 5 and above!! Law enforcers, it seems are fighting a losing battle against the men and women who sell and enslave young girls and I have no doubt, young boys as well.
Somewhere this day on planet earth
A Mother-to-be, while in labor, cries
Not so much for the mounting pain
Nor the fear of possible death
So many fears for the future…
“What lies ahead in the coming years?
What “fate” will meet my child?”
And added to all her heightened fears is…
Will she be there to protect her child?
Those dark years have now passed into decades
When Tanya walked the shadowy streets of the city at late night
While kids her age slept peacefully in their beds
They made her dress up so she’d looked twenty one
Days were spent locked in a room, under watchful eyes
She was fed cheap fast food to her young heart’s content
Soon she'd lose all hope of liberation
This was the second man she had been sold to
And after a while she’d adapt to the situation
Still fresh in her mind was that last day at school
In her backpack was her favorite teddy bear
Her Mother had chosen to believe her step-father again
Now that her twelfth birthday would be in a month
As no one cared, she decided to run away
While at the bus station she met this “nice” couple
Who listened to every word she spoke
They promised her a ride to any place she wished
And she’d always wanted to see Disney land
“Maybe, she thought, it’d be a birthday treat”
However, that would be another promise broken
Weeks dragged on and they bought her “stuff”
Although treated well, sometimes she still felt alone
Then one day came the grown up clothes and make up
That night her innocence was stolen once more
Later she’d try to make an escape
Only to be caught and tied to the bed post
‘Make it easy on yourself and accept your “fate”, she was told
That was years ago, although it seems like yesterday,
When arrested by a new officer on the vice squad
Who saw the flaw in the picture before him
The pimp gave no reasonable answer to the simple question
‘Why are you parked late at night on the street corner with a minor?’
Looking back over the years, she came to conclude that “Fate” is just another word, made up to cast aside blame; when we do not want to see the path we’ve chosen which has led us to our present state
When Pilate symbolically washed his hands, though he had power in that moment to act..
When there before him stood truth and innocence,
Yet, he chose to make a comfortable bed for his conscience
Today, Tanya is a college graduate and a Mother who has vowed not to leave anything to “fate”. She’d teach her children to take responsibility for the choices they make…
She would teach them that no one is of lesser value than another..
Male or female; black or white, all hues; rich or poor
All have a God given right to live free!
For: Richard's "Girl Rising" Contest
(3rd Place Win)
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2013
I know its the summer time because of how naturally
Your beauty compliments the caress of a summer breeze
As I watch the world from beneath a shady tree
I take in the delightful comfort of everything I see
But in the same breath I am holding up my hands
Lord will you please give me back the things I no longer have
They are even more a part of me now that they are gone
As the sun falls below where the horizon is still holding on
Somewhere between the falling light and a star lit night
Is a dream that last forever and will never say goodbye
As the wind gently blows through the brush and shakes the leaves
It begins to hum a melody that I want to sing
At that very moment I smile for all the joy I have
Its so uplifting for me to see melancholy dance
Soon the morning sun will rise and capture my eyes
As I watch the hand of God paint a brand new sky
With every stroke of color I swallow all my pride
And I find a new place to dream of endless times
If I should ever get to the place I left my broken heart
Only then will I believe this brand new day will start
Again Im reminded of why my heart beats so restlessly
Only the speed of thought and my soul beneath this tree
Copyright © Jesse James Forster | Year Posted 2013
Breaking down in the heart and mind.
With all regrets that are truly not kind.
Shocked at people are, so painful to see.
Abused with hated and ecstasy.
Violated and directed with torments
Lost of words or comments.
Hatred gushing out of life long experience.
Reminding yourself to become absence.
Coward and scared to even breathe.
Like the feeling of knives unsheathe.
Sharp but not enough to cut.
Enough to scare like a door that immediately shut.
The hand raised to help you is a lie.
It is a hand that slaps you so you can die.
Rough around the edges.
Crawling in your dreams in ledges.
Powered to stay alive.
You feel people want you to take a dive.
Just stop, and fall down.
Hoping to break your mental crown.
Hiding a feeling that never feels real.
Like shaking hands with demons for a deal.
Blocked out, out of your own story.
Thinking that people are stealing your glory.
Ashamed with fear.
With eyes that are full of tear.
Lost in such hidden romance.
Luck has it seems to be a dance.
Moving around in your head.
With scary thoughts and dread.
Feels like you never leave.
So you feel so many that grieve.
In your mind that is lost.
Full of drama that holds you down in cost.
Keeping in the shadow.
You watch people so shallow.
Gut instinct says that life with them is a muse.
When your just standing your accuse.
Society is just so lame.
Like all the people that are in it your to blame.
Soloing life is a brief.
Walking away is some what a relief.
I dreamed of many things.
With beautiful sorrows of wings.
Wavered in a direction that leads no where.
Escaping everything by a hair.
Pointing into the sky.
And asking yourself why.
The cage is so big.
Just enough to put on a huge rig.
Moving back and fourth.
It feels that your life does not have a worth.
Caned by laws of laughter to deceive.
Shackled up to be bent to your will to receive.
When you hope to hope.
A person can just show you the rope.
They have such friendly hands.
Like the deserts of sands.
Dangerous it is to just keep walking in it.
Lost cannot find your way even a little bit.
Just seem like your heart feels dry.
Then you give up and give a sigh.
That moment that you do is just all a dream.
You are really in a ward you will scream.
Thrust upon you because you could not protect.
So what cost you is this effect.
Warping in to your mind to leave this place.
You feel full of disgrace.
With nothing to drink.
Causing your true self to think.
Grief is such a pain with sorrow to gain.
Looking out in your own rain.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
They tried to shoot me
Then rape me
Then enslave me
I am empty inside
Where shall be my refuge?
Is there any humanity left in this world?
You, with your earthy comforts and peace
Why do you fear me?
You, who has not seen war, why scorn me?
I am you, I AM YOU a human seeking only tranquility
Yet you belittle me
I am not a terrorist
I am terrified of your behavior
So I ask you then, who is the terrorist?
I, who have suffered so,
Shall embrace all lost souls
I with nothing, would give my all
To comfort any anyone in pain
My heart is mine, no one can steal my kindness or smile
Even I cower in the shadows
Afraid of our times
I am here
In the cold
I once had a home
Now I have only fear
Not even a sweater to stop my shivers
I wrap myself in old newspaper
Do you read the news?
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
I have fallen victim so many times
To nobody's fault except only mine.
I will ask for forgiveness and have faith,
Even though I feel like I am not saved.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
Copyright © Angel C | Year Posted 2013
Which way leads to the
land of green white
Which way are we
A country the wicked
bears the rulership, and
the people sighing
A terrible thing sprouts
beneath the sun: a
Imps come to lime-light
by snuffing air from the
goose that laid the
The blind guiding the un
The weak suppressing
the strong-a terrible
Like the overthrow of the
gods at Mt. Olympus by
A country where also
thieves appear as men of
Land of green white
A land where the
enlightened ones are
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that
eat the crumbs.
Which way to go you
Iliterates stand on
podium of power
bellowing orders as milk
of sorrow known as
dividends of democracy
is passed around.
The machine of progress
manned by the
"There is better
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white
where rule of law walk
The proles are sentenced
to adversity,and there
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People
dancing on thorns
whimpering as they
I see a new sun rising
from the horizon,hope is
rekindled as its rays
grace on hopeless bodies.
Look!! there soon be
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013
I did it again; I need forgiven.
Will He still forgive me even though I've fallen before?
I've fallen into these same sins countless times before;
I still haven't learned my lesson.
I am an ignorant hypocrite.
Am I still forgiven?
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
Clumsy days and hazy nights
Haunting and bring me tears
I should stop perturbing
Whilst my heart still whipping
Wrath of nature is just reflection
Of my fragments that created imprints
Within my being that stands steadfast
Even in the darkest days of my existence.
Copyright © marvin celestial | Year Posted 2012
What was that sound?
Who was that man in the funeral shroud?
Who walked behind the man at the head of the crowd?
Amandla! The man’s fist was raised
Whilst the world showered him with praise
But he has passed now and he is gone
And the silence of his grave
Speaks to no-one.
His shadow no longer lines the ground
And no trace of his legacy can be found…
A long road to freedom, a long road indeed
At the end of the road, only malice and greed.
Does no-one see, and no-one understand
That the freedom that was sought
By the blood of the distraught
Has come to this, to naught!
As only anarchy was bought…
What was that sound?
As the father shouts and the infant yells?
What was that sound?
Was it a widow, crying for loss?
As her husband’s blood
Was traded for dross?
What was that sound?
Copyright © Daniel Human | Year Posted 2015
I AM SHE THAT HATES TO DEBATE, ESPECIALLY, WHEN IT IS TOO LATE TO CONTEMPLATE WITH FAITH.
I WISH I HAD TOOK THE BAIT AND WAIT, TO STEP UP TO THE PLATE.
BUT NOW IT IS TOO LATE.
I SHOULD HAVE, I SHOULD HAVE HAD MORE FAITH.
NOW THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT.
BUT NOW SINCE I DIDN'T, I HAVE TO SUFFER MY FATE.
WITHOUT MA SOUL MATE.
Copyright © Abiygayil Yisrael | Year Posted 2016
My sorrow, is overwhelming my 'entire' soul
for my jaded life, my dear "Nath"
would be the next breath taken away
Why does God continue taking those
who play the most critical rolls
my life will never come to see
any hint of ease
Heart heavy loss and pain
all consuming me again
God, I plea with you
leave me those that I love for just a day
It's become that time of the year
my Nathan was taken with the swine's curse
tears flood my entire being, why do you always insist I live entirely 'alone'
Sorrow just in this year now at 'half point' has finally taken the 'full' toll
I no longer see, any thing as my destiny that I shall 'exude'
When, will it 'ever' be my turn, I wait..to become the next called to heaven
am" I not worthy, of your abundant grace?
You, seem to take 'everyone' I 'entrust' to a faraway land
Nathan Reide' these are my tears containing, the 'most sorrow' I've ever let fall
But, every memory of you and me, stop all of the pain
just, another pain and despair to add to my life's endurance 'till'
I long, for peace, joy and 'any' kind of life would do me,
at this point of my life, I can not take anymore, seriously, lighten up on me!
I fear in new friends, how long..before you conclude they too will end
You bless me with a loving husband, mother, father, niece
When do you think you might, 'let' me see them... this is my plea
returning me back into church, I am in need off being blessed
How 'come' you did take that away from me?
faith in me stayed 'strong' you alone know the extent
I need to move 'now' I have stayed still, and achieved what I think I was to become a poet
I assume that was 'my reason' why you kept here
With that now in full swing
can you now spread my wings
You are 'overpowering' my soul, and I now do as I am told
patience never was my best strength, have I 'not' proved to you
I'm completely at your mercy, you are the entity that drives the heart of me
with all that, I need a break between all these sorrowful times, may I now move
This is the deepest of despair, I have ever endured, please see me through
I am more than 'positive' I WILL NOT make it through, another emotional trial
Not to be left here, still bleeding the way I still am...
darkness has taking more of my light I'm loosing all sight, of who is me
My heart full of anguish and grief, depression takes her advantage, of the ease
I have nothing worth finding joy or enlightenment anyway, she will have me
I don't have any strength to even consider the thought of even trying this time
in defending myself against her this time
She only win's by default...
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
The innocence is transfusing
the goat skin drums
children of the mills,
children of the junkyard,
and we keep filling them with
mercury, nitrate, espestice, baby bombs
blasted out of their shaved heads
Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)
Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,
they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.
They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,
and white was right in South Africa back then,
but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,
you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.
You, my mother, would not, could not break,
You stood firm, you stood tall.
You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.
You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,
the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,
my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,
by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.
You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.
You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,
you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,
you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.
Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,
all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.
I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,
the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.
I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,
you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,
of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.
I salute you!
(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013