Mardi Gras "The Medieval Story"
On a hot, heavy night in Orleans,
Joan and Jane were seen rubbing chest on chest
An inviting, intimate moment, to undress
Two pretty trimmed tops, eating like dames
They touched in ways, that drove those who make war insane
The secret spilled before the sun sprawled across the floor
Medieval England, banging on iron set doors,
All around men and women, wanting to witness the whiplash
Beads and beads of love, thrown at their feet
Joan' and Jane', having fun in front of, yesterdays courtyard
Sweet acts of flagellation were performed to stimulate the crowd
Screaming, and receiving, intense, brutal lacerations
In the eyes of endless nudity, everything wet in between
Left to right, a secluded society, dance in masquerade
Two men rise and ravage Jane, from hip to hip
Join-in, was a Jouster, and Lord Johnsburg,
They came in a little closer to claim, Joan
Closing, and inflicting as much damage as possible
Crestfallen forces of the unknown, -the audience grows
Remain firm and indulge this wet period of the Middle Ages,
The first crusade held stones in each hand,
Applauding to neck the beauty of friends
A noose hanging high held no head on this day
Yelling to feel the pain perils of anguish,
This was in reality the vassal of Jane
The King, ask to see them on their knees
Before he seeded, sending the Spanish tickler,
Fetching for the finest skin
At her end, Joan, watched Jane, spread like never before
Perfumed skin, rising up in smoke, -Joan's final stroke
Left burning at the Stake, In a Medieval World, from hell
The Siege of Joan and Jane did not end well
A lonely Bard, now sits and sings a sadistic tale,
A tale, of dirty deeds, -a dancing bloody masquerade
Joan and Jane, compensating for the Mardi Gras Parade
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
Bodies molded into one, golden by the fire-light
Heat between the lovers touch could warm the coldest night
Golden locks around her shoulders; the softest hands upon her waist
Of all the sweets and wine been tasted- his lips the sweetest taste.
Her cheeks were red like roses, and his eyes were bright as day,
Imprinted on the others heart, there could be no other way
Gentle moans and gasps of love, ensconced in lovers game
Eros, Philia, and Agape, with neither lover tame.
His heart was her heart, his breath was her breath
Making love until time's end, and then his death her death.
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013
Courage held In heart of Lion
Celtic memory of ancient reunion
In arena of Death's bloody passion
Lion's fight for life the prize
Swords held high salute the Caesar
Two giants hold their swords down low
Back to back now Celtic Lions
The Caesar drops his mighty hand
As pipes they began churning tunes
lamenting sadness sails across oceans
eternal darkness envelopes grief
in victory a crowd roars kill
within lust rising a mob salute
Thoughts fall back to ancient homeland
Mighty Arrach sacred mound
Sun In golden light descending
Emerald green this sacred land
Professions of Love given
Warrior queen does take my hand
Peace and Love once In a Celtic land
From hibernia out of a mist
one lonely teddy bear at sea
dressed in her green attire
sparkling shades her jewels
caressing rocks at her feet
shores washed by the great atlantic
kissing white foam spray
Mighty mountains stand together
Weapons crashing thunders song
As enemies strong advancing to destroy a Celtic song
Yet heart sings eternal memory
Ancient pride Celts viper sting
Blood rising crowd passion
Cheering death In passions' thrall
Celts In storm of fight
Ancient memories golden passion comes
In Pride and honour
we are a fighting race of warriors
groomed in our mothers songs of freedom
sail a world over wild geese
defending with pride in great honor
strong our calling haunting deep waves
we are the children of a nation who cry
mourning in the spirit drunken sings out
in prayer kneeling down welcoming freedom
red flowing a river soaks battles soil
another fight one bites the dust
A Collaboration by Liam Mc Daid & Michael Clarke.
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014
High upon the highest heights
I see the most tremulous sight
A small girl, fair and tranquil
Smiling strangely, sitting still
Beneath a sobbing willow tree
She recites a verse upon her knee
She sings a rhythmic hymn
Not of death, nothing grim
But prays that life will return
Even for those who are doomed to burn
The girl is a woman now
Beneath the tree and upon the cloud
She whispers, “I am watching you”
Why then are you so blue?
A single tear of sadness and joy
Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy
Who sits down beneath the blooming tree
Listening to her silent voice attentively
She reminds him she was once young too
That she also was a misty shade of blue
But when the boy grows into man
He has come to ignore the fair woman
Who watches him still from above
Burning and swelling with disdainful love
The ways of the world have sweltered his heart
And time has torn his soul apart
Thus he has lost all innocence and light
Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight!
I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears
Reducing the vigilant woman to tears
The prayer of the innocent has been ignored
Life has died and hellfire stored
Into the hearts of the impotent
In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent
Toiling in misery and lament
Savaged and severed by our regret
The heavenly woman grows old and frail
And the man still treads the sinful trail
As the rotting tree withers into dust
Can I revive it? –I must!
Low as low can possibly be
I watch myself condescendingly
A tombstone, gray and hell-bent
Frowning knowingly in bewilderment
Above the dust that once was a tree
She cries out a verse anxiously
Faintly she whispers the undying hymn
Not of happiness, nothing of whim
And prays that life will come to end
For those that break instead of bend
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011
When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...
I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky
The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn
I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe
The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul
Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through
Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost
I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art
As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow
Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place
The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost
Day was Life,Night is Death
And the latter has given counsel on my final steps
Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009
Through somber steps each climb is made;
The fruitless efforts fail.
Thus, love unshared and work unpaid
Disturbs the nightingale.
In song it copes
With fears and hopes;
From limbs it hung,
All feelings sung.
Warm waters crawl beneath its wings
On lonely twilight trips.
Yet, cold of nighttime softly stings
The feet with which he grips.
So many are the shamed
Whose sorry sights were aimed
To win the hopeless fight;
The one unanswered plight.
Where care once came
Comes only shame;
Now only rhyme
Recalls the time
When lovers held each other tight
On nights of endless laughter.
The nightingale would take its flight,
Rejoicing ever after.
But friends refuse each others hands,
The sign of cherished life.
On edge of death his heart now stands.
Serrated is the knife.
Now gone away again to mourn
The winged creature flies,
Until the warmth of love reborn
Revives the sunken eyes--
Those bitter sockets filled with tears
Reflect the speckled moon.
Escape from tortured life appears--
He ends the final tune.
Copyright © Mike Ruff | Year Posted 2009
This thrill? that can kill……
Feeeellll the WINDddwindddddddddd
G forces of sensation
PRIMEprime the PUMPpump* for the
s e n s oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaary ~~~
Air gasping open gilled
life near.. yet LIFE’S DEATH**… the razor’s edged path
This thrill can kill………
s e n sayyyyyyyyyy tion
Die! Why die! FLYYYYYYY
RIP! ROAR! RIDE! RIDE*>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
the wind on this PRETTY UGLY** Harley's skin.
This heartless surrogate horse
without FAIL SAFE**
R I D E!
* alliteration **oxymorons
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009
stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.
she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.
the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.
fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering.
she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.
giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.
she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.
her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin;
their oasis away from home.
she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin;
their oasis; their heart's retreat.
a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.
they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".
startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced,
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.
her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".
she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.
the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;
with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;
to become one
with the magic of;
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
Legs that can’t fly
Heart that can’t love
Kisses under go a rye
I am blind
Only seeing within the past lens
Only holding on to memories
That wont last
Your sweet smile fades away
As I whispered in my deepest of dreams
Now I live inside insane mad thoughts
You have moved on
I am not longer in your way
My love lingered
No more can I sway
I have lost directions
Flowers never come in May
Waves’ roll to shore
Angels play in the tempest sea
They know not love was not for me
Blankets keep the royal lovers warm
I left to winters charm
Coldness is my home
Chilled thoughts haunt my very bones
Broken and all alone
Battles yet fought
Over me grave
Besot, tears still drop
Poetic flowers bloom
Copyright © arthur vaso | 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
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 saw a death shadow in the eyes of my infancy
a soft mercy with calm blue fancy,
in childhood, when free will asserted it's wild supremacy
we sang of star charriots and laughter loyal to hyperactivity,
I see a death shadow in the prime of my ascendancy
outlining my temple of truth, whistling thy words of wizardry,
I hear It like the madness of morning's ending,
I taste It as if from the burning breast milk of a Dragoness,
I see It in the bleeding smile of my heart's kindness,
I speak to It when love's luster unlocks the lunacy of loneliness,
I feel the humble shade of It's jade justice in a world hot and hustling,
My death shadow has a surface sweet with patient purpose,
It is not rough with forboding frost that frights the fight of flesh,
rattling the scythe of doom and cackling for cataleptic crisis it does not,
It is not a grim God or a greedy Goddess, no taxing terror trumpeted,
It has never been an angel of escape or a demon of dour delirium,
when suffering becomes a seduction of brute beauty I share in it's wise joy,
my death shadow follows the desperate yet disciplined form of my body battle
through life's plethora of coy poisons and possessive passions,
marching along side me with martial grace, sculpting my face with lion spirit -
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2015
“Once very near the end I said, 'If you can -- if it is allowed –
come to me when I too am on my death bed.”
“Allowed!' she said. “Heaven would have a job to hold me;
and as for Hell, I'd break it into bits.”
Oh God, God, why did you take such trouble to force
this creature out of its shell if it is now doomed to crawl back
-- to be sucked back -- into it?
~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed
The division should be acute,
the before her, the with her,
the after her.
There is this constant
rattling of doors, though they remain
locked, in theory. I think of her
as gone until I turn a page,
read a passage of pompous
dialogue and she returns,
My Joie de Vivre,
entertaining me with that puckish
She smiles in the dusk with crusading
colours that bend dark horizons,
changing clouds, unexpectedly.
What was I before Joy?
Content, pleasant, productive.
But was I alive, aware of life,
its blissful rhythms?
the heart which awakened stone
no longer beats.
Finally, I understand.
Lessons are sharp things
which infect both fresh
and aging amputations.
What do I do with this knowledge?
It is like learning a language
that is no longer spoken,
a long monologue
unbearably forlorn, painful.
Faith dismisses hauntings,
yet she does so in daily degrees.
O, the sweet ghosts that peer
from those notes,
my name underscored in margins.
Why is there only one glove
in the sewing box?
Agony hunts me
in the garden. Perfume almost,
but not quite a match.
Some rooms have snares.
I dare not open a kitchen drawer.
Pain waits there.
The specter of my former self,
a staunch gent, so sure
of Heaven's role,
that cold bloke follows me
into the shadows,
land of man’s rage
and despair. There is no pretty
death, no words can comfort
the ravaged left behind,
There is no poetry
in our departing.
I only pray
there is Godspeed in mine.
Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2012
If the waves clutched for my feet once more
And invited me to drift
Would you pull me back from ocean's shore
Or let my spirit lift;
Would you wade into the waters deep
And hold my frozen life
Or discontent with ocean's tide
Let be with saddening strife.
If moonlight was our only cover
And her reflection beckoned me-
Would you swim a naked body
And sing our souls as "Free"
If ensconced in nature's grasping hands,
Whether waves or Freedom's play
Will you follow me, but nature's pet,
And embrace the dying day?
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013
If he's here
Or has he slipped
To the other side
Past the reach of her hand
His mind grasps for her presence
Hearing the softness of her voice
Wishing himself back into her arms
Eyes open he sees her angelic face
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
Alone in loneliness
Amid forever nights
And these four walls
In faint, whisper soft your name
I beg out loud to the nothingness that remains
"Please not another nightmare, no more storms"
But, answers are merely glimpses of light
Filtering through the pane
Cast empty shadows on the wall
Of places where you used to be
Eyes wide open
Now asleep, afraid I am to fall
Trapped within this never ending dream
I cling to all the memories that I have
Spinning me closer to where you were, in parallel on the edge
The thoughts, like imaginary rubble, comes tumbling passed
A fire for you still burning inside
Why can’t I let go of the tragedies last
And silence your unrescued suicidal screams
Or is it only the rain falling faster as it taps harder, and harder upon the glass
Or is it of your wandering spirit
Haunting with its vindications
Of "why’s" I can never seem to grasp
All this amidst lost stares into black windows
Where gutters overrunning, burdened by the strains
And I swear I see your reflection
Among the flashes, tracing out illuminations about your face
And for the first time
You are noticeably absent of all the worldly pains
And your lips releasing out a comfort that for so long I've been seeking
As I hear the words echo within my stormy heart "That where you are everything is okay"
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2011
happy birthday april
for an eternity to come
because with your faith in God
an eternity was won
no more worries or fears of death
no more choking or gasping for breath
no need for doctors or even a nurse
there is only one cure for every single curse
no fighting, debating
or picking sides
love is the answer
and love decides
i thank God for this day
the day that you were born
for without this day
my love would be forlorn
one day for certian
when the deadline comes
i'll pass through the curtian
and straight for you i'll run
and as God as my wittness
to the many days i cried
i often wanted to be with you
but thank God i never tried
we could have had our love story
and then let that be that
but the Lord has a better story
and i believe that that's a fact
i still believe in a love
that is so so true
the love that holds us together
me, God and you
Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2012
He is above us in the clouds
run through the fields and speak of thee
He will grow roses
I will be the stem of the roses
for I shall never leave your soil
You will be the tree I grow beneath
and he will be our rain.
Copyright © Andrea M Christian | Year Posted 2010
"When the rose dies it falls open, spreading perfume. You will become a window for every house. You will be a rose garden in every field."~Rumi
There were no secrets between us...
Oh! Beauty's unveiled saline rush!
Deception is now done.
Every man knows your scoring gush...
Fate! Has now claimed my only blush!
A Harlot's life begun.
~by deborah burch©
Copyright © Deborah Burch | Year Posted 2012
She felt like a queen with sweet memory and life
nestled in her fortress of lush poetry and light
a place of passion where the world could not go
as she forged on with sweet memories and a loving novel bestowed
Of tattered pages strewn in moments of flowers and lace
where words came with delicate emotion and could not be replaced
She fought to relive a time when all was fair
just one more moment where her loving song was shared
Upon this solemn silence in hushed light of loving dream
she placed the pen and paper at the edge of life redeemed
And on that final day
she came home to be fulfilled
as she lay dying in feathered down
she found him once again.....
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2012
Imagine lakes of dreams
Blood contained streams
Imagine oceans that behold undiscovered beings
Imagine human life depended off of cheers and games
Man design’s umbrellas
And eventually would play a part in acid rain
Imagine not wanting to smell another rose
Or touch another soul
Because of despair and shame
Imagine in the mist of your demise
You have the passion to rejoice and sing
Imagine driving pass shattered glass
The interior is soaked with blood stains
Your mind can't comprehend the fact
that it's a dead family in the next lane
Imagine dreaming for freedom
As a result by your neck you hang
Imagine for the sake of progress
You whip a man on his back and call him a slave.
Rage, Pain, Fortune, and fame
You don't have to imagine this
Because that's what life brings.
Copyright © Andre Sanders | Year Posted 2012
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
SLEEPING WITH THE DEVIL'S WIFE
Some night you'll wake before morning
Sweatin to the oldies she will sing.
She'll make you think you're in Heaven...
Long enough to tell you ANYTHING...
And you'll believe her.
Some night you'll wake up hearing voices
Sweatin to the oldies of here life.
She'll never say you're in Heaven.
Or tell you you've been sleeping with the Devil's Wife.
She'll never tell you, you've been sleeping with the Devil's wife.
But you will KNOW.
You will know.
That's when you'll need her.
That's when you'll love her the most.
That's when you will die.
Sleeping with the Devil's wife.
That's when you will die.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa ---hear the song and First take Video on Youtube, search for vee bdosa then select SLEEPING WITH THE DEVILS WIFE. One of my personal favorites, more poetry than song.
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2012
She ran her finger through sun kissed locks
As he lay sleeping in her bed
His handsome face smiled in a dream
Her breasts the pillow for his head
How she wanted their night to last
But soon t’would be the break of day
When he would arise and then be gone
Her charm could not make him stay
But, oh how she did adore him
As she gazed at his muscled form
Even more than she loved his strength
Was his passion that took her by storm
She had lain often in this bed
With countless other horrid men
But none had ever touched her heart
As this man fast asleep right then
Earlier she’d once more asked him
That which would bring her wealth and fame
She asked as she slowly undressed
“Delilah, your question’s the same.”
“But, Samson if you do love me
You’ll share your secret that’s profound”
Then she molded herself to him
He couldn’t breathe or make a sound
He moaned as she touched and pleased him
But she knew timing must be right
Before she’d let him possess her
Her vict’ry had to be in sight
She called him in the grip of passion
“Your strength drives me insane
But, Samson, if I don’t know the secret
You’ll never touch me like this again”
His hair flowed down all about her
Curtaining all except his face
“You’ll always be mine, Delilah
My hair is my God given grace.”
Then she closed her eyes and let go
And they both tasted ecstasy
Now he lay spent on her full breasts
Would she let her strong man go free?
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
With the weather cold and dry
My mind wanders far and wide
Within the future things in store
Negative thoughts, nevermore
Of course the mind can think of horrible thoughts
The pain that left the memory, not forgot
Until one day, it returns to life
To fear it with your heart, nevermore
This stone inside is your sanctuary
Not to be broken or to make one wary
Demons from the past surround your love
Let these Legion win, nevermore
Alas, true lovers can fight them off
Not lie, bicker, hate or scoff
Predict the weather tomorrow pleasant
Allow the rain to come, nevermore
You cannot allow this darkness to thrive
To swarm your soul like a hornets’ hive
Beware of those who intend to kill
Let them take your heart, nevermore
Titles are a trivial thing
Would phones or your heart start to ring?
When your darling returns home in your arms
Let the outside in, nevermore
For you and our love are all that matter
My heart and soul come together in patter
For my weakness is your voice
Allow us to be apart, nevermore
Copyright © Andrew Johnson | Year Posted 2010
I see her still in twilights shroud
At visions edge she’s standing still
She lives on for me, but makes no sound
Her presence felt , a loving glow.
She watches me with sightless eyes
The look that speaks but makes no sound
Where shadows spill she lingers now
But when I look I cannot see, just feel.
She should be here if fate were kind
My partner in the quite times
I miss the things she needed that I gave.
That giving soul that has now passed.
She waits, I know she does.
The bond that held will always be
She was my friend, my love, my charge.
Now my pain, my loss, my memory’s dear.
Copyright © charlie milne | Year Posted 2009
Drowning is excrutiating.
More so in your own blood,
Slowly, I hum along to the
tune of my own death.
What else could a puppet do
Death is a treasure. Peaceful.
Life is torture. Unbearable.
Ashes lie where a bright flame flickered.
Choked by a diet of untruths.
My endurance is puzzling.
Maybe i was ensnared-
Inevitable isn't it?
To feel the ripping of a heart
And the extermination of young emotions.
The humming ceases-
The end is near.
His pulsing palm is
where my pump rests.
The fiction" I love you,"
sometimes seems so true.
Love is pain.
Pain is not love
Copyright © Yvette Lisa Ndlovu | Year Posted 2012
Stomp, stomp, stomp,
Scream, scream, scream,
Before the stomp, stomp, stomps,
He, she, they screamed screamed,
And screamed, at I,
Scream at I which the thoughts,
Of comeback come near, near, and nearer,
Stomp, stomp, stomp,
I hear the stomps, they come closer,
And closer and closer,
Stomp, stomp, stomp
My heart beating faster, faster, faster!
The room, spinning, spinning, spinning!
Times going, gone, gone!
Stomps coming closer, faster!
The screams getting louder, louder!
Stomp, scream, stomp!
Nothings more worse than when you see the,
He, she, they behind the stomping of the stomps,
The screaming, of the screams,
The fire, hell, saddened in the eyes,
Is what hurts most, rather than the,
Stomp, stomp, stomp,
Scream, scream, scream.
Copyright © Amanda Governale | Year Posted 2009
The trail of the dying sun
told me of your tears
and the west wind
brought me your name
The river spoke
of all our fears
felt the same
The earth waits to receive your bones
and your spirit be cradled by sky
all we are is dust and thought
dust and thought until we die
Copyright © Meggan Rogalski | Year Posted 2005
PLEASE DO NOT READ PART II BEFORE YOU HAVE READ PART I! THANK YOU! :)
She had been a modest woman
Had so desired a family
But that was all in the past now
And Samson was no guarantee
In the morning he would leave her
With his voice playing in her mind
No, she needed to secure life
“Delilah, don’t you be so blind!”
In the morning she stood beside him
Dressed in seductive finery
In the other room they waited
To see if Samson was history
“Samson, your enemies surround you”
He just smiled and patted the bed
“Come, let me take you to heaven”
Then he reached up and touched his head
Would she ever forget that moment
When he gave her a betrayed look
Tears did slip down as they bound him
Her man and all her dreams they took
She heard that he had been blinded
They had gouged out her man’s green eyes
All the money that she had gained
Was tainted red with crimson lies
There was a great celebration
Through her veil she saw Samson there
No longer lion but a lamb
All she could do was gawk and stare
They placed him in between pillars
Of the temple to their “strong” god
They kicked and spat and they hit him
They treated him worse than a dog
She rushed passed them in a minute
“It’s Delilah,” murmured the crowd
For her flowing veil had fallen
How she wished now it were her shroud
She gently touched his haggard face
And he smiled a sad knowing smile
“Your beauty I can’t see, my love
But I’ve waited for you all this while.”
She sobbed, “I tried to buy you back
With much more money than they gave
I’m sorry, dearly beloved
Please, be strong now and do be brave.”
“Leave me now,” was his coarse command
“My kind God will still set me free
I’ll bring this place down on their heads
Delilah, please just let me be.”
“My lover….my eternal love”
On her breasts she now lay his head
“Pull down this building forever
I’ll lie with you in our death bed”
How the story ends is well known
Samson was given strength once more
That strength stolen by a woman
Delilah, whom his did adore!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013