Paris the 13th
Tears, my tears fall to wine
As I can not comprehend this horrendous crime
Men filled with such spiteful hate
Islamic teachings seal their fate
Kill and slaughter love and smiles
How I pray tell does this bring about
Any compassion of heart, have they no guile?
I have walked along those Parisian streets
Filled with history and diversity, such a feat
Hand in hand, people from so many lands
Dressed in darkness, blacks and grays
The massacre dancing in premonitions sway
Crusaders never win, for love will take its stand
Hundreds taken from Jesus hands
For nothing more than celebrating their great lands
Food and drink and lovers smiles
Stolen this night by hateful bile
We shall rise again, defend and stand
Our blood may flow in the river seine
However in the end its you, who is insane
We shall defend our liberty
Even if we hang evil from the tree
Père Lachaise has brought me tears
Such history over all the years
Yet here I am faced to visit once again
Paying respect to those dying in vain
My heart is fraught, with you till eternity
Liberté, égalité, fraternité
Notes: Pere Lachaise is a famous cemetery in Paris
Liberté, égalité, fraternité is the motto of France
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
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
There are times we are left to cope
With situations that drain our hope
Leaving us full of despair
At how some people just don't care
About the evil that they do
To good people like all of you
We are left to somehow face
That in mankind there is disgrace
And those of us left alive
Must find away to survive
As you pick up the pieces of your life
Without your mother, father, husband or wife
And some of you God forbid
Without the love of your kids
We must band together with a brotherhood
Show that in this world there is some good
Because we are together in this deal
We try to help each other heal
We seek in each other good advice
And offer each other sacrifice
We hold each other in prayer and song
As we continue to re-build the wrong
Because what else in the world can we do
Except let the light of good shine through
The evil darkness and despair
Of a catastrophic lack of care
We want you to know you are not alone
Think of America as a giant cone
And all of us are funneling through
Our prayers and hopes to all of you
Posted for Nathan's 9-11 contest
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009
Susan Boulet was an artist 1941-1997
Her paintings are famous for their layered effects which she started later on in her artistic career. She loved fantasy which is easily seen in her paintings. This is my fantasy poem as I look at this beautiful picture painted by Susan Boulet.
The old man sits quietly on the hillside, knowing his days as one
Spirit would soon be coming to an end. He stares blankly at the heavens where the pale blue sky is the backsplash for Cumulus clouds now filling in, the horizon. He chants his prayer over and over again calling his brothers to come receive his spirit and be one with him for all eternity. Brother bear, cloak me with the warmth of your coat that we may walk through each winter and never be cold again. We will stand together as one, never again will we know fear. Brother wolf fill my heart with your loyal spirit that we may rise to heights of a love greater than any human could possibly achieve. His prayer seems to rise more intensely as he continues. Mighty cat, share with me your speed that we may be faster than the wind, jumping through the clouds as one. Wise and good owl, become one with us that we shall have wings to fly as eagles and wisdom to find eternal peace. Now the old man whispers, together we shall hold the secrets of the universe in our hands. Soon his chin drops down on his chest as a smile crosses his face, and the old frail body crumbles to the hard rocky ground. Then the cry of a wolf, the hoot of an owl and simultaneously the roars of a sabre-toothed and bear echo through the valley. As darkness fills the sky and the moon is high, the silhouette of a young warrior stands proudly on the bluff.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
For Debbie Guzzi’s Contest:
Free Verse, Prose Poetry, Haibun
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | 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
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
A Prayer for my Wife
Now I’ll tell you all the details if I can keep from sheddin’ a tear
Last night when it got late and really quiet around here
I got down on my knees, crossed my heart and began to pray
And in the darkness between me and God, here’s what I had to say
I love her so much Lord and I just don’t know what I’d do
I’m afraid that she won’t make it, that’s why I’m coming to you
Here with my heart open, at your mercy down on my knees
I’m begging’ you with every heartbeat, Oh Lord hear my pleas
I don’t know what your plans are or what you have in store
And I know I don’t deserve her and that she deserves much more
And don’t misunderstand Lord, I don’t assume any obligation
For your bounty in our life has exceeded all our expectations
But please allow her to live and me to be a part of that life
And I swear I’ll make this beautiful woman proud to be my wife
And if it’s not in your plans Lord then I pray that you take me instead
Cause’ I can’t live without my love, I’d be better off dead
And no excuses for my past Lord, but I’ll do better than I’ve done
I ask you only this, my lord, in the name of your Son.
I wiped my tears as I said my amen’s and prepared myself to stand
Stepped up next to your bed and began to caress your pretty hand
I stared off into space as all the memories came flooding in
Reliving each and every moment, over and over again
And as the first rays of sunshine, streamed in past the curtain
I felt an overwhelming peace calm my mind and ease the hurtin’
I felt compelled to kiss you so I pressed my lips to your face
And it seemed the room was filled in the beauty of God’s living grace
And you slowly opened your eyes and smiled for me to see
And I knew the Lord my God had given my sweet wife back to me
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
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
Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”
Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”
One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…
Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
After the last one was planted, he sniffed it;
Then turned and licked Bob’s face.
Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”
Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.
Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed.
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.
Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.
Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray,
“Lord, let this day be my last.”
For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.
Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.”
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.
The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….
Stood an old dog beside the stone,
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place.
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.
She smiled through her tears.
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too. His name was Pal.”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
I thought of you today, sweetheart,
which is really nothing new.
I thought about you yesterday,
and the day before that too.
I think of you when I'm alone,
I often speak your name!
I keep your lovely photo,
in a golden picture frame.
Your memory's in my make-up.
it's like another body part!
I promise you, my darling,
I keep it locked inside my heart!
I'm told by friends, as time goes by,
that I will slowly heal.
I have my doubts about it,
because the pain is still so real!
Part of me went with you,
when the Good Lord called you home!
It broke my heart to lose you,
now, I must go on alone!
You're with Him now, in Heaven,
so all that I can do,
is say a little prayer each day,
till He calls me home, with you!
Poetic form: Rhyme
I love this poem because I wrote
it to Una, my loving wife of 54 years,
who recently passed away.
Copyright © RALPH TAYLOR | Year Posted 2012
Christmas, so full of life, and miracles, was found wanting this year.
A young mother sat by her daughter’s hospital bed, racked with tears.
Her daughter was sleeping way too still; her last breaths would soon come.
How could this happen to so beloved a child, she was way, too very, young.
Where was God’s wisdom, in taking a six year old, or her father as taken in war?
Church, friends, family, others, and her, had prayed till they could pray no more.
They’d ask for her: to walk in the sun, and play again, with family to hold her hand.
But her time was gone, like in an hourglass; the sand was almost, completely gone.
The mother was afraid to pray anymore… what could it accomplish any more?
What the disease hadn't taken, the cure had, nothing left, but for her soul, to soar.
But how could she hand her to the angels? Strangers had always frightened her child.
No, she sobbed, she’s way to young! Still she knew: life was never fair… or mild.
Where was God when you need him! Please don’t take her away! Her mind riled!
When suddenly, her daughter opened her eyes, and smiled her little, tired smile.
She whispered: Papa’s here… to hold my hand… He’s taking me… where I can play.
At that the fear receded… as she said she loved her… then watched her fade away.
Perhaps her prayers HAD been answered… She’d had her time with her, after all.
Now her Husband, would take her place… Perhaps it was his turn, to carry on.
Tears would still be shed… It was natural for that to happen, when this befalls.
But she knew her daughter now had everything, including The Great Father’s Love.
There are many types of Christmas magic, but as her time came to a close…
A mother’s love can’t be beat, except by God’s Love, for us all…
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013
Sweeter than a flower special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Kneeling in prayer singing a tune
Beautiful young one baby girl
See her face glowing
Know that she's going to a better place
Surrounded by angels
Near the pearly gates
Safely in the sacred arms
Looking up at Jesus face
Sweeter than a flower
Special as could be
A little girl softly asleep
Close your eyes right now
See her going
To a better place
Your little baby girl
Copyright © amie scheitel | Year Posted 2006
O the sunset...the sunset...the carnelian sunsets
how I long to hold them in my hand...so when you are blue...so blue
so deep dark blue...you can come to me
I will open my hand and you can wonder...wonder...wide open wonder
at Xanthe yellows and amber golds streaming from my palm...my palm...my humble palm
and you will become immortal
O if only I could keep you there...you...only you
swathed in light and warmth
safe...sound...close to me forever
You who I am lost to...over a thousand vessel-ed seas
O how l long for the sea...the sea...the sparkling sea
in it's emerald greens and topaz hues
in it's passions and powers and motion
I long to place it in my heart...my heart...my a thousand times broken heart
so the pieces can wash away and my essence can float free into the wind...
the wind...the wild whipping winds that billow the sheets hung in your yard
and whisper wild to the my inner demons
washing them away with the rain...the rain...the falling rain
that fell and fell and fell again
keeping you from my door...O my door...that blessed door
that opened to your face one cold crisp morn...so blessed by God
O my God...my God...my gorgeous God!
if only I could hold your essence in my mind
that I would not get lost so often in the wretched forest of thoughts and shadows
my shadows ...my small and tall...wide and slanting shadows
if only I could rope you and keep you tamed...so the things that hide
behind and within you
can not escape and create in me...the darkness...the darkness...the black coal darkness that chases me down alleyways of night and slivered moon...O moon...my beautiful mindful midnight moon...my crescent and full moon
O if only to swing with you round and round and round the earth
and cast a glorious shine upon everyone...upon every single child who needs love
O my love ...my love....my eternal love
if only I could sprinkle you like confetti...upon the earth
and ease the pain I would...I would...upon my life I would
O life...the very thing life...the breathe that enters that which wasn't and so then is
O if only you did not flee so quickly by but could be cradled away from death
Death....O death...O damnedable death!
if only you were not so draped in confession that I must pray
I pray...O how I pray that the vastness...the vastness...the great and cosmic-ian vastness beyond
is more splendid still than Earth...our Earth...our wondrous
perfect hungry sad beaten tarnished dirtied Earth...
O MY EARTH...how I love you!
Copyright © Ingrid Showalter Swift | Year Posted 2014
I have been to places of great death:
walking the battlefield at Gettysburg,
as a lusty young man of no firm belief
who stepped between the great rocks
of Devil's Den and felt his soul shudder
as though he had been a soldier there,
and died in fear a long, long time ago.
I taught my tongue to the gentle Khmers
as civil war raged and the killing fields
were being sown-- I left before the
heartless murdering began, the killing
of over a million: teachers and students,
doctors and peasants, the old, the young,
each with a photo taken before dying,
their pictures taped to classroom walls.
And when I visited Hiroshima, now myself
chastened by death's touch, and knowing
my soul real, knowing of meaning absolute
and of unseen forces working good or ill,
as I stood at the first ground zero, I once
again shuddered to feel the pull of madness
(though I knew not if it was my own or some
remains of that evil which brought the fire
and brimstone of a world wide war...).
But by then I knew I could pray, and so
opened my desperate heart and sought
His mercy-- then I saw a sort of angel
who took me from that place of insanity,
healing me while we wandered by the
beauty of the Inland Sea as my storm
calmed and left me, never to return....
I have been to places of great death, and
I have felt death's cold, careless hands.
Yet now I know what death itself fears:
the Light, the light eternal which carries
souls beyond time itself, like the winds
of a Love exceeding all understanding.
(written January, 2017)
Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2017
Tonight as my baby girl started to pray
She said God it's 8 O'Clock,
And God We need to talk.
She said daddy help me pray,
And daddy bow your head,
As we knelt beside her bed.
she said God can you hear me?
Mommy always said you'd hear me,
If I would learn to pray,
And that you would show me the way.
Well God I don't understand.
Why you took my mommy away.
Daddy always says i'll understand,
When I grow up some day.
She said God, you need your son.
Well I need my mommy to,
And I know that my daddy,
Would be happier with mommy.
Cause daddy talks to her,
And mommy's not even there.
God can you please,
Give my mommy wings,
So she can come to see us.
She always kept our house clean,
And God I know,
She keeps your house clean to.
And God I miss mommy's big hugs,
Daddy says your son gives hugs to.
So I know if my mommy had wings,
She could hug me and daddy.
Well God I want to thank you,
For being there to listen,
And God think about what I said.
And tell mommy that I love her,
And God I love you to.
Oh just one more thing God,
Help my daddy stop crying.
Thank you God, Amen,
Then she turned to me and said,
Goodnight daddy, I love you.
I was still on my knees,
Beside my little girls bed,
With tears running from my eyes.
I gave my baby a goodnight kiss,
And said sweet dreams baby girl.
Then I went to my room,
And kissed my wife's picture,
And with tears in my eyes,
I knelt down to pray,
I said God, We need to talk.
Copyright © George Martin | Year Posted 2007
Hidden on a lonely old daunting road
Dark and melancholy clandestine
Cemetery weary of last tears sowed.
Undecipherable daunting shrines
Bracing cold marble and granite tombstones
Deeply rooted in hard defiant earth matter
Some leaned drunkenly upon its groans
Others stood in various states of disrepair
Cracked or chipped, inscriptions, some eroded smooth
mats of moss and ivy clasp to its bosoms.
Forgotten as they start to fade, embraced
in wild vegetation, pits and mounds of
decaying falling trees, and lace lichen.
Uncertain of how many vessels interred there
haunting the graveyard that time has soothed.
Sad voices from the past echo
overwhelming weeping emotions
expressed sorrow and grief that won’t let go.
Lived a life, but some died as an unknown
in its stillness surrounded not wanting
to be alone watching the world grow old.
I step into this unforgotten cemetery,
embracing a bouquet of yellow roses in my arms
looking for a departed loved one.
To no avail
I laid a single rose and said a silent prayer
with tears of wonder and sadness
and grieve for all these forgotten souls.
Poetry Contest: Overgrown With Vines Contest Info
Sponsored By: Broken Wings
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
By the snap crack clackings of my thumbs
Something wicked this way comes
In robes of finest silk did it dine
and found our flesh most divine
A creature who wore the cloth
In life did it spit upon the cross
To eat the flesh, and consume the blood
And many have drowned in it coming flood
Long, lean and sheik
It's gaze can make many a man meek
Teeth of bright white
Polished to hide the deeds of its night
Upon my house did it knock
Pray sanctuary with the blessed souls
Standing beneath our clock
Did it ask the toil for it's stroll
Clad in its finest Black cloth
Book in hand and cross over chest
Did it read the Lord's Prayer over our broth
Little did we know it was our last Prayer under our family Crest
It dined that night upon the flesh
It suped our blood while it was fresh
I watched my loved ones dies one by one
Wondering when it's deed would be done
Awashed in chilling foresight
That this will be the first night of many to come
It approaches me and picks me up as you would a doll
Then rests me on the table near it's bowl
Smiling down to me as if it was in delight
It shows it blood stained fang enhancing my fright
It pets my head tiding my hair
Speaking to me as if it offered me life, does it truly dare?
Good evening, young Hostest.
One so full of life, should never be fearful of one such as myself
The table you set I must protest does not suit my palate so I took matters into hand
And as such I must offer more to you for going out of my way
would you join me and my merry band?
Let me be a guide for your weakened heart
And show you the warm sweetness of your own blood
I shiver and shake, lost in the dark
Do I tread the mud filled waters of this demon who took all from this fool
Now in all the ends of days do I ask
Did I die that night,
Or is it you that died?
Copyright © Nara Shevanna | Year Posted 2009
Gun in the closet,
One in the drawer,
One under the pillow,
Does he need any more?
Scotch on the bar,
Jealousy on the mind
Can take you too far...
Your fate can be signed...
A loud bang,
A puff of smoke,
Gone is Beauty
In one sad stroke...
The Devil helped
Pull the trigger,
Cause he loves
To make Good People die...
There is no way
I could live with this...
I'll hunt him down
If the law is remiss...
I won't need,
a gun or a knife
For me to take
this bastard's life
He's made us pay
The ultimate price
For you, your life,
To him, just a wife...
To me he killed
Both Love and Hope
And when I find him
Should he grope
For his gun
He will find
My hand has shoved
Into his mind...
I'll break it first
for extra pain,
My vengeance will
Never be sated
For my prayer of hope
Is now in vain.
Copyright © johnathon bart | Year Posted 2008
I look daily for beauty in this world, beauty that I can transpose into words on a sheet of paper or a computer screen, beauty that rarely eludes me. From these observations spring beautiful, joyful, uplifting poetry that lifts others, and enables the best in me. Today is one of those elusive days. I still am forced to watch as my father fights on in a battle he cannot win. Alzheimer’s -- and all around him lies the collateral damage of family and friends who ache for him to pass on. And so, today, I write not just another Haiku, but one I pray that God will heed!
Seasons come and go
The season for death is now
His seasons are past
For the Haibun Contest
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017
With raised sword and shield,
The Norseman yells to Odin
The Viking Death Prayer*
* The Viking Death Prayer
Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother,
My sisters and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people,
Back to the beginning.
Lo, they do call to me,
They bid me take my place among them
In the Halls of Valhalla,
Where the brave shall live forever,
Where thine enemies have been vanquished,
Nor shall we mourn but rejoice,
For those who have died
The glorious death.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and
read Part 2 to complete the poem and leave your comments on the Part 2 submission. Thank
you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain diminished
Me, Myself, and I...
“There are things that concern us,”
Consensed my “Selves” in earnest
““We” fear that “I” have succumbed to delusion”
“And after careful deliberation
It is with much hesitation
That we choose to delineate upon this confusion”
“Fact is your intuition
Is riddled with superstition
And your judgment leaves much to be desired”
“So you leave us no recourse
Don’t push us to use force”
It is then that the “I” was summarily fired
I exclaimed “By whose authority?” Response, “Rule of majority”
“The “Myself” and the “Me,” (forthwith the “We”), are experts in our field”
“And with much technique and time
And some forays into the sublime
The nature of your malady will be revealed”
“So to keep yourself from having a fit
Step back and just calm down a bit”
“We,” they said, “certainly have this under control”
“We swear this won’t hurt at all”
Then I felt my inhibitions fall
Still I said a prayer to God that He keep my soul
You know, fact is I do feel off axis
As evidenced by such parapraxis
As this prose that I, (or is it “Us”), seek to pen
And with my mind feeling numb
I finally chose to succumb
And allow the “Me” and the “Myself” to begin
And then came questions in a flurry
Answer, answer and please do hurry
Not one moment of respite did they give
They pushed and they prodded
With every “T” crossed and “I” dotted
My mind felt like it had gone through a sieve
And all this psycho-analysis
Is causing my mind paralysis
The questions, can you stop with the questions please
“Yes, oh yes indeed
I do believe we have what we need
To make an attempt to identify your unknown neuroses”
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
Now that he's without him
what is he working for
He had never truly realized
His dad drove him to want more
With working came acceptance
replaced emotions he concedes
and his father unavailable,
he kept his schedule filled with deeds,
When his father passed away
it broke him to the core
just learning he and his dad
had things in common they stood for
His dad had loved unconditionally,
despite his character flaws
and perhaps was thinking he'd call his son
when the winter thaws
but winters came and went
and neither reached to call
yet they truly loved each other
despite their voices being awol
His imperfect life with his Dad,
is now the oddest gift he treasures
He's vowed to be a father
for his sons to proudly measure
He says "I love you" to his kids,
and has being saying so for many years
then thinks of what he missed
with his Dad,
and it reduces him to tears
Nothing can make that emptiness go
he carries the lesson learned
Knowing now to speak his love out loud
not said to be returned
When a son loses his father
a part of himself fades into the light
as do the words he rarely stated,
like, "Dad, nice to hear from you tonight"
or picking up the phone to say,
"hi dad, did you just hear",
are calls he wished he'd made
while he wipes away a tear,
Now in a prayer he says, "I love you Dad",
to the heavens he kneels and pleads
and wonders if his fathers knows
that his love's so strong, it bleeds
"Dad, in case you didn't know it,
I love you more than I can say
I always tell my kids I love them
I learned that the hard way,
and in my heart,
you shall always stay".
Copyright © Barbara Tremblay Cipak | Year Posted 2007
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
If I should die before I wake
And this be the last breathe I take.
Just know this was a decision that I made.
That I was a soul that just couldn't be saved.
And try as might to take the blame,
It just isn't your fault.
You gave birth to me ,
But you didn't breed these anxieties.
And you put the voices in my head.
And you didn't know I cried myself to bed.
If I die and you feel that it is before my time.
Just know I was suffering but now I'm fine.
I struggled with the decision to go or to stay.
I know you're probably angry with me and that's okay.
I know you think I'm selfish for ending my life this way.
If I should die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take...
That he alone will have mercy and grace,
To know how hard of a decision it was on me.
And the scars on my lifeless body will remain
Not as who I was but of who I became.
Do not cover them with make up
Because I am unashamed.
I was hurting and they are symbolic of my pain.
If I should die today...
Copyright © Mari elisha Williams | Year Posted 2016
I'm lost hurt and angry
Why did you take his life
I want, No I need to know
Tell me, Tell me why
I deserve to know
Haven't you done enough to him
What'd he ever do to you
He suffered his whole life
Suffered more than anyone deserved
Tell me, Tell me why you did it
I have a right to know
Why'd you let him born to them
Born to worthless parents
Parents who didn't care
They threw him away like garbage
Pawned him off on someone else
Tell me, Tell me why
Explain how you could do that
You gave him Polio
You let others treat him like disease
You took away the full use of his legs
You warped his hand and foot
Tell me, Explain to me why
I deserve to know
You let others think he was crazy
You let it go on for over year
You didn't stop it, Why
Tell me, Give me your reason
Answer me God, Help me to understand
You go and make matters worse
You gave him Cancer
You didn't give him a chance to fight back
You just jerked him away from us
Tell me, Tell me how
How you could be so cruel
How can others not question you
When others do it, It's murder
But when it's by your hand
It's your will, Their fate
Tell me, What makes you so different
Your no better than the demons knocking at the door
You heard me beg and plead
You know I'm not afraid to die
I was willing to carry it all for him
I was willing to take my Daddy's place
You didn't even let me say Goodbye
Tell me, Tell me why I couldn't take his place
Answer me God, you owe me that much
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
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
Last night as I lay in my bed
An angel appeared and said
Your life will soon end
I am sent as a friend
To a new kingdom soon you will be led
Say goodbye to all those you hold dear
Tell all they must not shed a tear
For your passing will be
Liberating and free
With my lead you will not have fear
In life you have suffered too much
Soon you will walk without need of a crutch
In the kingdom to come
You won’t limp you will run
With the help of the lords gentle touch
So I wait for the day to draw nigh
Though I know lots of people will cry
With happiness in my heart
I will gladly depart
Heavens waiting there for me to try
The angel at last has drawn near
He offers a new life so clear
With a silent prayer
I climb the golden stair
Halleluiah the angels all cheer
Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2013
I Folded My Mother Up
I folded my mother up
Into a creased peace of paper
Folding memories into intentions.
Flattening the dementia of unstructured emotions
Into a neat, file-able document.
We arc this abyss; tightening ropes over time.
We are not our worst intentions,
but we are the acts that follow.
Like clobbering footsteps tripping over
broken pavements of Being.
We are the not sum of our categories
or the crimes that we have witnessed
But we are the balance
That keeps us falling forwards without stumbling
Over our own shoelace sense of time.
Copyright © Igor Goldkind | Year Posted 2015
Rob me of my purity,
But once again it's all my fault;
Fell into the trap of false promises
Because I pressed play instead of pause.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013