My shadow flirts with the sun
As I caress the darkness
We are one and separate
As my shadow smiles
Anxiety suffocates me
The shadow will soon fade
I shall die
One happy, one not
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
A WISH -- In Memory Of
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?
Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this and make
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.
In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013 --- RIP March 25, 2013
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
Live Or Die, You Couldn't Do Both
Upon that dark ground, life was bloody and blue
all dark mists brought more than was due.
Dusty storms, blew about with black hands of Fate
lost as hurt seemed to escalate.
Within hidden shrouds, nights ate sad, dying souls
you cried within odd rhythmic rolls.
Never again, never again, your sworn oath
live or die, you couldn't do both.
Crying for rest on that spirit-eating ground
dancing along but with no sound.
Whenever that rare day's gleaming sun did shine
you grabbed it fierce, saying its mine.
Greatest of dreams was life would find saving lights
hope shown, banishing blackest nights.
Robert J. Lindley, 11-13-2016
Sonnet form, Lin 11, 8 ...
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 11 8 11 8 0 11 8 11 8 0 11 8 11 8 0 11 8
Total # Syllables: 133
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 102
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
Tell me why, but tell me True-
Spare me the heartbreak of a Lie
I would lay forever in these meadows...
Forever, until I die!
To rid myself of all the Pain,
And the Sorrows of what I feel
To ease my Mind, my worried Brain
(Lord! The Cuts! I need to heal)
*Referring to my problems with "Borderline Personality Disorder"; many of us are "cutters"
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2013
Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins
Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment
Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls
Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl
When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp
Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent
But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand
Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015
One day there was an accident, and to heavens gate I was called.
As an angel sat down beside me, upon the bed I had been put upon.
Such a shining warmth ensued as it held me in its thrall.
A thought from God proclaimed, “What with your life have you done?”
Then all of life fled past me, but not as I did expect to see it done.
For all I saw and felt were things I hadn’t known I had done, and yet…
So much pain inflicted to each, with such little words and thoughts.
I never would have known such power, by one person, could be wrought.
I bowed my head in shame at the pain I knew I could not undo, yet…
Suddenly, I found myself forgiven. Yes, TRULY it was true!
Hallelujah became my amazed and impassioned cry before him, that night!
His warmth had never wavered, nor even his illustrious, wonderful light.
How could he forgive me, someone as wretched and lowly as I?
And yet, he did… and so he changed my life from then on out.
But low and behold he wasn’t yet done with me, or so my story goes…
He sent me back to my home again… it in comparison brought me low.
But he said my work lay uncompleted, so now I must go back…
He said to stay clean and I would blossom… What do you think of that?
A veil he placed upon my eyes to remove me from the knowledge of all I’d known.
Then he sent me from his side, where I could not see him but knew he was.
Now, here I stand before you, a totally changed and humbled one.
Still, I have found I have sinned again… I know he must have known.
Perhaps some day, as I patiently wait… I’ll be allowed once more within his gate.
Only time will tell, as again I’ll feel every ones pain…
All I can say is: God Forgive Me… as I continue to wait…
(This Near Death experience really happened and changed my life.)
Written 5-25-12 By Carol Eastman
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Just Do Not Be
Waves of sadness overflow my heart
I tumble, no care at all for a new start
Buried under autumn leaves
I hug the soil, knowing deeper so much the sweeter to be
I hear a voice over looking me
Don’t be like that!
Get up and carry on
Enough of the silly sadness lets move on…
I am anxious I say
Why they all ask, what’s up your craw?
Not a thing, why nothing at all
Then don’t be like that, DO NOT
I think of ropes, of tall building and fires
I think of ending it all, got no desire
You think I enjoy this feeling that death holds
The answer is always, don’t be like that
How can such educated ones be such fools?
Do they think we choose the sadness, our ugly muse?
Do they think we chose the darkness and always lose?
Shaking with anxiety, I can hardly but move
Don’t be like that echoing in me ears
See a doctor about all these fears?
All I see is the empty glass
Wishing it full, with two more pills to blast
No one really cares about you
I am sure for me this is true
When I was dead, after months I was blue
A year later someone opened the door
I kid you not, they looked and stared
Why did he have to do a thing like that?
From the depths of hell, I laughed and I spat
Before the killing of a thousand deaths
I broke a leg and walked slow at best
They all showed concern, said what can I do?
If they can see the wound
Apparently they may care for you
I replied with a bitter taste in me insides
Don’t be like that
I only wanted someone to care
I pulled the trigger
Cause I followed the dare
Now tiss I, covered on the wall
Hasn’t a care in the world
Why none at all
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
If only you could see the tears
In the world you left behind
You fill my days, my nights, my dreams
You’re all that’s on my mind
Your laugh I’ll never hear again
Your smile I’ll never see
Memories now are all I have
Since loneliness found me
Time was never on your side
Your short life had to end
Now I'm left in pain without
My love and my best friend
The sadness, the emptiness
The pain I have to face
Will never leave my life
For you’re a loss I can’t replace
Even though the rain will fall
And the sun will still shine on
My life will just exist
Because my whole world now is gone
You are an Angel high above now
Watching over me
But someday I know once again
Together we will be
For when my time on earth is done
You’ll come and take my hand
And guide us to eternal love
Together in God's land..
By Raina Hutchins
Copyright © Raina Hutchins | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
There you are being conceived in your mother's womb.
Before you know it you will be born in this world
As you develop; you start to move around. You take in
your first food as your mom gobbles it down.
Your ears start to develop; behold now you can hear!
You start to move around as the sounds you hear are
You look around to only darkness. So you yawn and fall
asleep. Look at those precious toes that are taking
shape on your little feet!
You hear your mother talking and you react to her voice.
You start to kick. You start to coo. It seems to make
I can hear the sound of your heart beat, and at hearing
it I fall in love. I take a moment to see what is now
going on in heaven above.
Yah smiles down upon you as a precious baby is starting
to take shape. Everything seems good so far, but hold up
A pain hits you hard. You're wondering what's the
commotion. You don't even know it, but your mom
is now having an abortion.
You don't deserve this. You're a precious baby. To be
born is the Father's will. But you don't even know it,
because now you are being killed.
The pain is killing you...unbearable pain, but what can
you do. It hurts too much to say this is what your mom
thinks of you.
Some think they know better, but your life began at
conception. Why do some think otherwise? Is it because
they fell victim to the devil's deception?
Look at you torn to pieces. I'm crying at the sight
of you. But it's a relief to your mother, she sees a
different point of view.
Another child dead. Another life gone. I can't control
my emotion. A precious gift from above is now the victim
of another abortion.
Copyright © Jarid Miller | Year Posted 2010
She sits alone
She draws her knees up to her shoulders, hugging them tightly
She shivers in the icy wind
Her teeth chatter and the stream of tears from her eyes, sting her cheeks
As she lifts her head towards the heavens,
Her eyes burn with pain and her piercing scream, barely human, expresses her Excruciating
suffering and anguish
She is gripped by immense sorrow, the most powerful and destructive emotion
It roughly envelopes her, throwing her into a pit of darkness, filled with evil shadows
The shadows claw at her, ripping into her flesh like daggers
She shakes violently, tasting blood as she bites down hard on her bottom lip
But she feels no pain, her body is numb, numbed by the demons of sorrow, who,
Are slowly overpowering her, devouring her heart
And locking her in an eternal web of pain
She is engulfed by fear as the intense sorrow surrounding her, compresses her
She gasps for air as the merciless hands of sorrow close around her throat
She fights in her lonely vacuum, with everything she has
She reaches for her only comfort, her fingers coil around the blade
As she stretches her arms out in front of her, her void eyes gaze upon her pale skin
Her skin is etched with scars
Her scars an eternal, entwined, tattoo of her excruciating suffering
As she runs the jagged blade over her skin, its cold feel calms her
The compressing sorrow surrenders
This is her saviour, the one who can release her from this life of pure hell
Her skin begins to open, the river of blood flowing strong
Her pain is flung into the open, through her wounds,
Leaving a sense of tranquility in her distraught heart
Her red stained fingertips caress her raw wounds
She is mesmorised by the life force flowing from her, as it paints
Her tragic story on her body
Painful tears bleed from her eyes as regret shudders through her
She rocks backwards and forwards, lulling herself into a sense of peace
Her body is drained
As she lies back she becomes limp
Her eyes close and her whispered prayers fill the open air,
Creating the painful melody her heart sings
As she slips away
Thunder roars and the starry heavens open
As God’s tears rain over His beloved daughter,
Healing her wounds and piecing her broken soul back together
As the sun rises above her,
It illuminates her peaceful expression
Her earthly father collapses besides her
His silent tears wash over her beautiful, pale face
As he lifts his dead child in his arms,
Vicious sorrow rips his heart apart,
Creating wounds which will never heal
Copyright © Amy Sullivan | Year Posted 2011
How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them it's the end?
How can you possibly do that without shedding tears?
Or even blinking?
Do you not feel it? That pain, that pain that's taking over
Their soul, as you tell them their life is ending?
Or maybe it's just that you have lost your own soul?
In that instant when you found out that the greatest part of yourself
Is about to disappear,
That its light was about to be permanently extinguished.
Can't you feel it? That sorrow that slowly shutters their hearts?
Or the fear that's taking over their minds? it's a furious fire,
Cutting off any glimpse of hope with its smog,
That fear, its suffocating their soul into its last gasp.
Can't you see it? How that laughter ends sharply, in pain?
How it breaks in half every time, never to relapse into its fullness?
How the darkness stealthily takes over those, once life-filled, eyes?
That following calm,
It's the call of darkness,
Smoothly enchanting their soul into submissiveness.
Until all is in deadly silence,
Their bodies still, their souls forever gone into unknown.
Do your tears come then? Do you feel their pain then?
Do you see it? Or do you stay the same?
Unchanged, unemotional, shell shocked,
And forever unbelieving still?
Copyright © Alina Councilman | Year Posted 2013
There’s no glory in death
As you take your last breath
Loved ones sit and mourn
Thinking they won’t see the dawn
But they will and here’s why
They ease the pain as they cry
They will move on each day
Pain slowly will go away
Life is as normal as it can be
Till the pain hurts them less
After we all say bless
For a moment or two
You forget its true
Then the thought comes again
With a little less of pain
Years will pass and you’ll cry
On special days till you die
Then loved ones you will meet again
Find them all free from pain
I have absolutely no doubt
That’s what deaths all about
So it’s true when they say
Time heals a bit everyday
Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2012
Memories, Long Sad Journey,
Bitter cold that Saturday morning, late in November 1969, I could see my breath parading before me. No breakfast as I had quietly left the house and started my slow walking trek back to our old home.
Memories flooded my brain with each new turn along that dusty road. Along with questions about why I was now so rebellious. Quicker, walk quicker my heart and soul demanded. Do you not want to touch the bedroom door where you father slept? Slept before that long dark sleep. Slept in such pain and sorrow? Yes, bellowed back my invisible friend.
frosty morning dew
loose pebbles crunched beneath feet
earth, morning sky paled
Halfway there, with my heart racing and anticipation heightened
I could almost imagine a real touch. A real touch, of he now lost, to all eternity!
What wild thoughts come to a teenage soul and mind in its greatest of pains and sorrows. Can death be denied? Can one bring back even for the briefest moment a loved one.. A father, a beloved father!
blackbirds silent view...
light ahead, welcomed beacon
wrapped in winter's sheen
Walking up the short drive and onto the front porch. Only gone away half a year and such change found! Silence, silence engulfed my thoughts. Struck numb as I entered our vacated home. Home were my father had exhaled his last breath. Hand shaking as I reach for that doorknob..
What would I see? His ghost? Would I dare touch his ghost? I walked into cold, lonely room,nothing!
No smile, no hug, no long awaited touch! Only tears, tears by the bucketful.
What had I come to find? Was I crazy to want to see, talk, touch one more time?
one old shoe, lonely
broken window, dusty mounds
bleak abandoned walls
I knew, knew with certainty that this was it. Life gave no overs and no going back to happier times. Terror of that reality, would it ever leave. Would it?
Father is dead and my life is over. I walked out into this dark world ready to fight. Fighting to be left alone, with my never ending sorrow and its sweet cuts. Cuts embraced to keep my rage, to yet again feel something, defeat the icy numbness in a rebellious teenager's aching heart.
August 5th, 2017
Written for Debbie Guzzi
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017
I do not know?
Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having
a bad day.
Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't
help but ask "where is humanity?"
Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.
Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.
How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.
In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.
Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
Heroes of my age in their morning mourn,
Filled with teardrops of pain and sorrow,
They'll be now part of the epic history,
But the cloudiness of who ones's fault still remains a doubt for justice,
When all lies in secrecy,
Can we blame peace and harmony?
Where we are all thirsty.
The masters of war behind the walls,
Safe and sound from the bullets of death,
The heroes in order and duty,
When guns can't do anything for victory,
When bullets can't do anything for survival,
They hide behind the seeds, behind the prayers
Behind the first fallen hero.
They, who are grabby for one's life, for one's blood,
Thirsty for distraction of one's covenant,
They, who pulled the trigger, who ought killing is a game,
Shooting one's body as if a little toy,
Like the Trojan war of old, was trapped and deceived.
Will their consciences arrest them?
Will forgiveness forgives them?
When they will die?
In service, for security the heroes died,
To sacrifice one's life in the name of duty,
A peace we wish is a peace they're yearning?
Or an inside job for another piece of power?
Who knows, we only care
But the Man can see them behind their masks,
Through their eyes, inside their brains.
The agony and heartaches they leave behind,
The scars that'll bleed for justice and life,
For the woman of love, alone in coldest times,
Somehow tears may dry by the aging of time.
For the cries of baby longing for daddy,
Searching for brawny arms that will lift them,
The baritone voice that will laugh with them.
Now change of path, life will never be the same,
The light will also be now the wall.
All will pass, all will calm like an ocean after the storm,
But justice still pursuits justice, must not hide from another demise,
Will give them the truth? Will the lives be not wasted?
Afraid for this will be one of the unresolved cases,
Repeats the failure of my Country,
Their coffins, their graveyards, in memoirs for the heroes
Once the stewards of us, once the fathers of Country
Worthy of prayers -for them, for families and for justice.
We salute the Fallen!
Copyright © Nebuer Peroy | Year Posted 2015
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost half of how we came to be
We lost we four girls first love
We lost our Best Friend
We lost more than just a Dad that day
Our Mom lost her Soul Mate, Her other half
Our children lost their Papaw
We lost our family’s foundation
We lost the glue that held us together
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost the Strongest man we ever knew
We lost the man we looked up too
We lost we four girls Teacher of many things
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We four girls lost our Hero
We lost some of our Light
We lost part of our Heart
We lost part of our Soul
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost some of our Courage
We lost some of our Strength
We lost some of our will to fight back
We lost some of our will to carry on
We four girls lost more than a Dad
We lost more than just a Dad that day
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes. Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.
‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
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....
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
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
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?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her?
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
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
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,
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
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
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,
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
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...
Copyright © cassie hellberg | Year Posted 2013
I fall down
deeper and deeper
the sounds of evil
dripping into my ears
and sliding down into me
filling me with echoes.
terror courses through
into each cell
turning them against
they are no longer mine
they follow another
a stronger being.
icy breezes come
they whisper to me
they say I'm bad
they call me to them
the breezes dance
hiding me from the light
shielding me from hope.
my eyes are taunted
I see people
the ones I know
they are hurt
I have betrayed them
I am hurting them
it is me
but I can't stop.
my mind is plagued
comes a new terror
a cruel joke
all a prank.
only deeper do I fall
light is disappearing
all a game
for one person
the man in the
the one who is running the show
the show that is me.
he sees me falling
I can't see him
but he is there
teasing my brain
taunting my senses
he hates me
he wants to hurt me.
he throws it
I feel the pain
running up my leg
showing my bones
releasing my blood
it is blue
my blood is cold
it splatters my face
sprinkling my features
dotting them with blue
the blue liquid drips
jumping onto my tongue
I taste dirt
my blood is dirt
blue is all I see
blue is all I become
I am blue
blue is me.
a distant shout
who is it?
a cry for help
the sound is mangled
the sound is mine
I shut my mouth
but I still hear it
chilling my blue blood
ringing in my ears
shaking my breathing
jump-starting my heart
then it's over
the scream has ceased
and silence returns
sounding more deadly than ever before.
only black do I see
the monsters' playground
the demons' joyride
and someone is hungry
it wants me
it wants to take it
it feeds on people
people like me.
objects hitting me
ghosts' fingers prodding me
as I fall
I fall down
down into this never-ending hole
filled with misery
my worst fears
how did he know?
he knows I'm afraid
doesn't help me see
I can't see why
how does he do this?
they cut me again
spilling my blood
oh, the blue
I don't even feel it
I am numb
the sound of me
a quick slashing
and they are done
I am cut
I can't see my blood
but I can see how evil it must look.
the thoughts that fell
fell down with me
they talk to me
they tell me what they see
they can see
my cold blood
it is everywhere
I am pale
I look sick they say
they see the bottom
I fall faster still
slowing for nothing
for no one
being pulled down
the puppeteer has me
he's got my string
and he's pulling
with no sign of letting go.
now I hear a song
they all sing it
the notes are cruel
they bump into the others
struggling to be heard
with no set order
it is musical chaos
he yells to me
it is beautiful
and he sings along to his song
it's made for me
musical notes are played
they come up to me
they greet me
right into my cuts
surging into my blood
they search inside me
keeping them steady
picking up tempo
they found it
the music does the talking
it says to hush
my heart listens
and I get sleepy
the music is evil
played by the man
the man in the mask
my brains sends
one final request
it says to my heart
speed up, can't you see?
she is dying
you must speed up!
I still fall
with no way up
letting go of hope
dreaming of being saved
when I already know
I'll only be dropped.
I know what
it is flesh
but belongs to someone else
they smell of dirt
they are nothing to me
they are the stench
in my nose
the smell overcomes all
all the other senses
until it becomes me
and I burn too.
even in the dark
I see something
blacker than black
they are shadows
they mock me
I fill with evil
a longing to hurt
hurt the ones behind it all
I hear him
is his pleasure
oh so dark
I'm at the bottom
laying on the cold ground
in a small ball
too weak to stand
in a pool
of dark blue blood
I hold myself tight
I can't trust
he likes my weakness
he tells me I am small
I am ugly
I am worthless
I am nothing
he laughs when I cry
I thought that
it would be better
instead of up there.
hell is not a game.
death is not an
easy way out.
do not try to visit me.
do not try to rescue me.
for I am more lost
than I hope you will
now that I am
at my fate
at the entrance to hell
at the bottom of this grave
of my eternity
and if I am truly
I'll have plenty of time
to ask myself
why did I jump?
Copyright © Allyssa Pate | Year Posted 2014
Obama drew his mighty line in the sand
Dare ye not to cross me
Assad replied in kind
Gassing thousands and laughing
A little Syrian boy has drowned
Siblings to weak to cross that mighty line
Salvation was the evasive dream
Father shall never escape the nightmares
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
(In memory of those lost in Newtown, CT)
We may not know the answers to all the questions asked
We cannot control how great the pain or how long it will last.
Nothing we can do will erase the pain you bear
But we cannot remain silent as if we didn’t care.
The blood of precious children was shed this very day
And grieving families wonder when this pain will go away.
We know time will heal a multitude of wounds
But we also can be very sure it won’t be very soon.
Evil came to visit here and we all wonder why
The souls of friends and children were made to say good-bye
What happened here today we may not ever know
And haunting thoughts of loved ones will follow where we go.
You may be called to travel a higher road than we
But you cannot travel faster than our prayers that follow thee.
We know that we can never bear the grief that you go through
Just remember we are here – Our hearts are broken too.
Written by John Posey
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
Business is booming and there's no end in sight, Death came to a huge
He called in his partners Pain and Sorrow and said "we're holding auditions
"Auditions, Pain asked, what are you looking for?" For a third partner and he
reached for the door.
The very next morning hanging there on the wall, was a huge flyer
reading "DEATH'S OPEN CALL"
Come one come all but you better give your best audition, because we only need
to fill one position.
As the day moved along Sorrow watched in disbelief, next in the line was his old
Grief walked in and handed them his lengthy resume', thank you for coming
friend you'll know by the end of the day!
The auditions had been going on steady for hours, the decision would be tough,
they all had great powers.
Next in line would be Misery and he gave them his best, "Thank you for coming,
wait outside with the rest".
Death having some free time sat in on the last few, after over 1000 auditions it
was now time to choose.
Death left the decision up to Pain and Sorrow; they would just fill him in by
All that he asked was they used their best discretion, when suddenly in walked
the vixen Depression.
With eyes dark as night dressed all in black, she walked to the stage and the pair
just sat back.
She said, "Am I too late for this open call? I just happened to notice the flyer on
We'll give you a shot now show us what you can do; this is only because we've
both heard of you.
They told her to give it her best shot and that's just what she did, for her first
victim a sweet little kid.
His name was Billy he was only 13, she found him alone sitting out on a swing.
You see he had just lost his parents in a huge fire; to be with them again was his
She climbed in his head and she did her thing, Billy took his life right there on the
"WOW" they exclaimed lady you are good, come with us now to see the "man with
A new chapter has started with Death’s open call and it all started will a flyer on
No longer a trio, now a quartet, a new force to be reckoned with this you can bet!
Copyright © Shannon Goodson | Year Posted 2006
She is the muse to her own sorrow;
She is the digger of her grave.
She is the painter of her ocean view
and every fatal wave.
She is the shadow of her Father;
She is the darkness in your sight.
She is the night without the stars
surrounding pale moonlight.
She is the music with no words;
She is sweet love without the reason.
She is your dreamer with submission
cold by warmth with every season.
She is your pet with cold intentions;
She is your baby scared and shaken.
She is the bold and pure- the lost and found,
She is a soul awakened.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013
Lasting memories haunt a tearful mind
How distant the dreams that no one owns
Etched marble, another name to remind
Lay in silent fields of flowers and stones
To search for days that will never be
unearth youthful years that quickly passed
To stand in a field where soldiers are free
know their torment is over at last
Eyes flow freely at a stone so cold
Brushing her hand across a marble name
fingers tremble for a son she can't hold
years to live with the pain she'll claim
Handed a flag that eight soldiers fold
Knowing her son will never grow old
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
You had lots of fun
At the local where drinks flowed.
Night took you away...
One last breath in mangled wreck;
My heart aches. Why can’t I cry?
Contest: Tanka Tears
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Chosen POTD ~ 14th Feb 2015
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015
Sometimes the memories won’t fade
All the places we have seen
All the prices we have paid
The memories of the happy as well as the sad
The people we’ve lost
The friends that we had
Some memories just seem like a ghost
I always lost everyone that I loved the most
The wind would just carry them away
Along with my tears
And my ability to pray
I wonder how far is heaven from here?
How many more heartaches
How many more tears
I wonder how far it is away
Because I have so many things that I wish to say
To all the people that I loved and I lost
I’m not even tripping
My heart paid the cost
The reaper rode the river in a bikers disguise
I’ll never forget the fear in my mother’s eyes
As he drug her under and then let her go
Through my four year old veins hate started to grow
My eyes were blind my ears were deaf
After that I forgot
There was anything left
Karma is like poker for it is bound to luck
When I was just a boy
God through me under the truck
Of all the things in life we feel
We are all bound to God’s will
Passion is a doorway between love and hate
God is the dealer in the game of fate
Our place is not to question why
For if we do our faith will die
The deeper we hate the deeper we love
I was gifted wisdom by the Lord above
Every gift comes at a price
A world of experience behind my advice
Every smile holds a lifetime of pain
Nothing that happens should happen in vein
It is our choice that which we do
Know in your heart these words are true
The harder we fall the further we climb
No ones life is totally sublime
Illusion after illusion will be offered to you
But only the living word is true
The living word that beats in your heart
Will keep you safe as the world falls apart
Through the pain of a boy watching his mother die
It’s never to late to kiss the sky
A man of faith who could never give up
Please come break my bread and share in my cup
By the time our journey is through
I’ll share all I am with you
Hopefully somewhere in my words you’ll see
---Untwisted is truly the way to be---
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view
I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused
I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone
So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss
April 14, 2013
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star
Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries
A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn
Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015
This despair is mine,
this seed was sown
The roots spread fast
their depth unknown
But no one knows
For it is my own
Copyright © Joe Inca | Year Posted 2005