in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heart worms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the weeds,
till the jewels of memories soothe
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Copyright © Anthony Slausen | 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
Dancing butterflies and laughter
without a care. A day full of sweet
smelling blossoms fill the air.
Sister's golden hair glistened in the
Summer sun's glow, as Mother blew
colorful bubbles that bounced off
her little nose.
Mother's heart was always full of
love to share and the day of blossoms,
and bubbles will forever in my memories
be kept with loving care.
Precious and few are moments shared
together. This wonderful day of blossoms
and bubbles, in my heart will last forever.
April 6, 2015
Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2015
Many years ago, when we were all young,
We really thought life, would be so much fun.
While playing dress-up, trying on mom’s stuff,
Putting on make-up, we found to be tough.
Then came our schooling, and boy things would change,
“Those aren’t our parents”, when they acted strange.
Sometimes they were hip, but old-fashioned too,
That’s something I swore, I would never do.
Wishing you were older, adults had it made,
They would do nothing, yet still would be paid.
That is how little, we all had known,
We surely found out, once we were grown.
Loving the twenties, we’d go out with friends,
When we went shopping, we followed the trends.
Doing what we wanted, and staying out late,
It didn’t matter, what time we all ate.
Then came the thirties, and most of us wed,
Watch what you wish for, my parents had said.
We had to work hard, many bills to pay,
I guess they were right, what more can I say?
Raising your children, was hardest of all,
Needing some advice, your parent’s you’d call.
It seemed so easy, they needed no rest,
So now it’s your turn, you learned from the best.
The forties arrived, that was a shocker,
We’d spend lots of time, just at the doctor.
Back aches and headaches, so tired you’d be,
Trying not to cough, or else you would pee.
The fifties would come, and your grandkids too,
Where were your glasses? You hadn’t a clue.
You searched here and there, and under the bed,
“Hey grandma” they laughed, “They’re right on your head”.
Here come the sixties, now let’s have some fun,
You are retired; your work is all done.
To dinner with friends, you dressed and you wait,
They never show up, you have the wrong date.
Now the seventies, with friends playing games,
If only you could, remember their names.
You try hard to hide, those under-eye bags,
Gravity happens, and everything sags.
Enjoy every day, and have a good laugh,
All the steps you took, led down a new path.
Live life as it comes, each year a new page,
One thing is for sure, everyone will age.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
I used to look at your wrinkly hands
And see the veins follow routes like a map
Your fingers shook like a spayed chihuahua on the piano keys
Demonstrating the chord in which I was supposed to play after you
I was thinking instead about the stool we were sharing
How old and fragile the wooden piece was
The green-blue floral padding faded and worn
The chipped, wobbly legs
That creaky sound when you repositioned...
And I was praying it wouldn't collapse under our bodies
Your voice was gentle and calm
Softly pushing me back to my practice
and my fingers played that bright G Chord
“Very good,” You praised with a smile
Your voice so small and lightly faded
But still loving and pleasant
You explained to me arpeggios and broken chords
And I was glad it was you explaining it
I remember yelling at my dad
And throwing a big tantrum over playing “Allouette”
His straight harsh voice cut my fingers off the keys
As he ordered me to pay attention
Watching his hairy fingers demonstrate the left hand
And then the right
Pressing loudly and ramming the song into my every being
And I remembered
I was never concerned about making him angry
I would laugh if he made a mistake in teaching
Or if he stumbled on his words - which was frustratingly rare
I would scream if he corrected me
And yet I was determined for his praise
That he never gave
Your son loved music like you
And he wanted me to love it just like him
In an annoyed kind of way, I obliged
But I would make him suffer for forcing it on me
Even if I couldn't deny it was something I would always love
We never have our piano lessons anymore, Grandma
But I will never forget how you taught me
That stool remains in the room
It hasn't been sat on for days
And it took far more than mere days
To receive from your son…true praise
But that’s okay
I will pray it collapses under his body
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
When I was only five
Heard mommy always's say
Angel keep being naughty and you won't make it to
Entry for Adam Hapworth's
Captcha Acrostic Contest
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2013
AGE OF TEN
Way back then when I was ten
Things were so very different then
I wrote with ink in a fountain pen
Whenever we could we would build a den
And I loved to help my dad in the garden
Way back then when I was ten
I walked to school and was never late
Always ate everything on my dinner plate
Played hop scotch by the garden gate
And was not allowed to go to bed late
Way back then when I was ten
No television colours only black and white
Real Christmas trees and a glass fairy light
We all had a different size of trike
Then I got my first two wheeled bike
Way back then when I was ten
We had so much freedom to roam
But must be in for meals at home
Only a phone boxes with a dial phone
And no phone in many a home
Way back then when I was ten
Latest craze was roller skates
And hula hoop with your mates
Skipping ropes and Meccano gates
But lots of fun with wooden crates
Way back then when I was ten
Coins were in pounds shillings and pence
Mothers talked over the garden fence
Scooters that you could make go at such a pace
Noisy steam trains that always seem to race
Way back then when I was ten
With friends you played out doors
Toys for your imagination scatted on the floor
Skipping ropes, skates and many things more
Sledges of wood, a dolls house with opening doors
Way back then when I was ten
Fun was had with blackboard and chalk
Clay dolls that you could walk
And new plastic ones that wouldn’t talk
Then babies came by way of the Stork UNSUPPORTED CODE
Copyright © MARY GRACE | Year Posted 2016
Born I was, still alive today, down, but I'll be back to say
Even at a small age, when our house burnt to the ground
Disorientated, confused, in it's smoke filled surround
With no other place to go, to a Caravan we called our home
It was the events after this, that allowed my mind to roam
Little me playing in a field, on a broken bottle I fell
Crimson fountains erupted, I survived, as I'm here to tell
That Monday night so special, Boys Brigade we headed to be
I tried to run faster, but my brother was faster than me
Out of the opening he went, boy running, was he skilled
He was there, but gone the next, knocked down, my brother killed
My mind now in roam and wander, fathers health started to slide
Where does a seven year old turn to, to whom does he confide
Pillar to post I headed, fostered out, and to children's homes
Six years later many more tears, my father in deathly roam
To my father I kept my promise, to the Royal Navy I would go
Whilst training, caught under a raft, my life nearing slow
Pulled from the water was I, nearly drained of what little I had
A release of water, a gasp of air, hours later feeling so glad
Eventually what I'd always wanted, to be happy and family be
Married to the girl whom I'd know, would love to marry me
But to a colleague I'd declared my worries, of a phone call I'd take
For History would repeat itself, to awaken to a possible wake
That call finally arrived, to the telephone, speaking to my eldest son
Liam his younger brother, knocked down, my tears in run
I'm blessed that he was saved, which cancelled out that call
I only wish that technology was, that I'd have a firewall
This is me up to date, apart this last weekend
Again I thought I lost my youngest, once again relieved of strain
Hours up at the Hospital, the first human skull I've seen
A serious cut to his head, but what it could have been
This my life's chapter, around the corner we never know
But all I can say to the above, around me continues to glow
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2014
i was six and you were nine
you would pack sunlight into a jar
tell me it was mine.
at night it lit my room.
when the stars were out
you'd throw stones to wake me up.
butterfly nets in hand
we'd catch stars from the sky
save them in our pockets.
i'd hand you my water gun
you’d load one at a time
pull the trigger
"quick wish on a shooting star."
now twenty and more old
i still have the jars
i still own every wish
i uttered silently
on those moonlit eves.
it was you
in my dreams
in my smile
i only had one wish
you and i
clad in the innocence
of those times,
of dreams and laughs
i only wished
it would never end,
and your sunshine
safe in my memories
our childhood sealed in those jars.
Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name:The Sweetest Touches of Verse
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
Days of endless struggle
More hopeful pills today
Trying to appear 'normal'
In some sort of way.
It seems that the struggle
Is always here with me
And I wouldn't be here now
If guilt would leave me be.
I know there's too many,
who've had it worse than me
But that doesn't always mean
That I wouldn't say goodbye.
People say I have a lot going for me
I'm sorry, but I just can't see,
I can't see because my worst enemy
Is not my life, but inside of me.
Always on a roller coaster,
Not much consistency
I'm nothing if I'm not up or down,
I'm nothing if just 'me'.
Very little energy
Wanting to stay in bed
Wishing to be enthusiastic
Instead of feeling like I'm made of lead.
Wanting to be excited
Wanting to care for more
But when nothing makes sense,
It's hard to focus on the poor.
Cluttered mind, cluttered thinking
It's hard to keep in touch,
With what's happening around me
And not to worry too much.
I feel that everybody is better than me
And that I cant do anything right.
This is how I've felt my whole life.
It didn't just star last night.
Copyright © Brianna Parsons | Year Posted 2016
A black phone
I dislike our phone a sleek monster in a corner
I never answer it when it rings unless my wife is out
My mobile phone is in the pocket in my jacket in the hall
Where I can`t hear it when it rings, it is usually someone
Trying to sell me something, but I never go out driving
Without my mobile it comes in handy if the car breaks
Down and I have to call the garage with a tow- truck
Years ago I used to do haiku; it did my head in
The bloody phone always rang when I had the right
Word on the tip of my tongue often I took the phone
Off its hook but I could hear it humming which was
Worse when I was still young enough to think
A phone could bring good news something like
“We have decided to publish your book” it never
Happened instead, it rang to give me heart-wrenching
News, an early morning call: your mother has died.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016
The sky fades
I'll be free
The good day
Copyright © Emidifi Defi | Year Posted 2013
My knees were the things that
kept me up and my skin is my
cutting board my eyes are the
rain clouds to the fire running
down my arms and my heart is
the fire place that keeps me
burning so calm
Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013
Im going to tell you a story about a girl.
She was smart, and ready to take on the world.
Had a hard childhood with her mother always ill,
but her father worked hard and struggled to pay the bills.
My name is Pam and the poem your about to read,
Is a interesting poem, all about me.
I started to feel depression and pain,
at the age of 15 I was snorting cocaine.
I got pregnant at a young age and wanted to explore,
So I walked right out of my families door.
Time went on and I was still not around,
My mom grew sicker and dad wearing a frown.
Not much longer until I experienced this change,
and tragic horrible hurt and feeling of pain.
I walked in that room ,and climbed in the bed
I layed down beside him, and layed down my head.
With my hear I could hear his heartbeat.
The next thing I new we were burying him six feet deep.
At the funeral they said she was in a better place,
but it just wasnt fair to see that look on her face.
My mom that is she died with my dad,
She may have been breathing but always so sad
Two years later she decided to give up,
her faith was gone and hope for luck up.
Thats when I really started to struggle,
barely getting by and forgetting that i was mother.
She seen me drift into a dark place,
I started loosing weight in my stomach and my face.
Before I new it I was always getting high,
Weeks became months, and time flew right by
Its to bad that I chose this new path I was on ,
Because on August 11Th I got a call saying my mother was gone.
Like a replay I walked into that room,
to see her lying there as stiff as a broom.
I layed down beside her and rubbed my fingers
through her hair , but the pain I was feeling I just couldn't bare.
You would think after loosing my mom and my dad,
Anything else wouldnt seem near as bad
Within four years I had nothing left,
My child was taken for my foolish regrets.
Just me and my addiction no more tears to cry,
so many different ways that I could get high.
I would like to introduce this powerful drug,
It bring nothing but bad when I was searching for love.
The name is crystal, Crystal Meth
The one thing in the world, I wish I had never met...
Copyright © Pam Siddall | Year Posted 2012
Smile in your sleep
A midnight temptation is in the midst of the stars.
Brightness feeds and eventually consumes the eclipse.
Individuals described as both boy, and female acting very young.
Both separated at birth, yet they roam every night while they sleep.
Yet, one day they met for the first time at North Eastern Heights;
An academic learning center, a school where everyone made memories.
There were plenty of times where Nick had football memories.
Niki was dreaming of one day becoming one of those famous movie stars.
Both would have been fabulous careers, but neither climbed the heights.
Thursday, the day Nick and Niki had both looked at each other like an eclipse.
Tossing, turning all night, the two wish to dream of each other, but cant sleep.
Both wanted love, both wanted money, both wanted to be forever young.
Smiling at both their baby pictures, Nick and Niki looked oh so young.
Nick asked Niki to be his homecoming date and one of his fondest memories.
Both looked at each other, gazing in their eyes, so boring one could sleep.
That night at the dance, the two acted as if they were dancing with the stars.
Boys and girls attending the dance made up a color wheel of a shining eclipse.
Nick and Niki were on top of the world; they couldn’t fall off the heights.
At the end of their senior year, it was graduation at North Eastern Heights.
These were the days they realized that they couldn’t be forever young.
That no parts of all life are going to be as shining as an Eclipse.
Even they, remember the things we hate too keep as part of our memories.
The only thing of there young adulthood that didn’t change was the stars.
Nick and Nicki gazed upon stars all-night, and smiled in their sleep.
Both they lay, laying down on the comfort mattress, smiling in their sleep.
Dreaming they both do, climbing the Appalachian mountain heights.
Camping by a fire in the mountain range the only thing present was stars;
One of the last things they saw was an owl, it’s cooing as a young.
The two lovers will always be remembered just as memories.
And suddenly it was all gone; the dream went away as fast as an eclipse.
A looming eclipse-
All alone, how can I sleep?
She’s gone, my erased memories.
I fell off the heights.
We were so perfect and young.
We were a pair, just like stars.
Forever the stars-
They enjoyed being so young
Sometimes we all fall off heights.
Copyright © Trent Turney | Year Posted 2015
The you in me that I know
goes with me where I go --
the you that isn't you at all
comes to me when I recall
the days we spent as we grew.
I never guessed, I never knew,
all that I'd have left of you
would be my thoughts of those two:
of the you in me, the me in you.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2014
Learning, observing, mimicking
Baby, school, graduate, adult
Teaching, protecting, providing
Diamante Poem - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Regina Riddle
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2014
Sap has run dry
Time for me to die
My smile has run away
On the horse of my childhood
Spring will be no more
A season beyond my grasp
Life has fluttered away
Wasted moments, in lines
Gluttonous desires have filled me
With veins of death
No love to hold
No life I am told
Voices dancing in my head
Sweet words after I am dead
Ravens and crows all in black
Line up behind the vultures in suits
The last song, whispers her sad melody
As a silent ghost comes along
To witness my demise
Kissing the cold grey stone
Beholden to dreary skies
As I rest among the rodents and flies
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
It's funny how life is always changing,
as we pass through different stages of time.
How a simple life can need rearranging,
so everything will work out just fine.
When I was young I never would have dreamed,
that I'd be who I am this very day.
Thinking thoughts that are seldom seen,
changing my perspective in a whole new way.
When I was young, I was always quite shy,
never thought of being so bold.
Held back all the tears I could have cried,
only to realize it can turn a warm heart cold.
Afraid of being who I wanted to be,
from a fear that all I ever did was wrong.
In a way this kept me unfocused on me,
and onto others, for a time that seemed long.
By trying to keep those around me always happy,
is what made me, who I am today.
At times this made me feel a little crappy,
but I wouldn't be happy with myself any other way.
Danny boy: 12-2-14
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2014
Dimly lit, I sit
in a Mexican kitchen
near the Tropic of Cancer.
A TV is tuned
to inane noises;
dogs at my feet,
oranges in a bowl
on a table:
a specific place and time.
And I am dreaming --
dreaming of Louisiana
in twilight hours --
dreaming of short winter days and
summer's green, bright mornings.
Country time, mostly empty,
was quiet, seldom interrupted
by human utterance;
but my busy brain
was full of fantasy
The world was new, was big,
was yet to be explored;
possibilities seemed endless.
Oak and cypress,
willows, pines -- and magnolias --
were all around, and cane fields
stretched for miles.
The bayous that had always been there
were there still.
Change was slow in coming
and childhood lasted long.
I dream now of Louisiana:
poignant vignettes... dreamy glimpses...
all those slowly fading
of the past...
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2013
Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook
Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.
Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.
Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.
Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.
Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.
Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013
Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass.
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are.
Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment.
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers,
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.
Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013
When I was just a baby
Many years ago
I was so agile I could even suck my toe
Now I have trouble lifting up a cup
Oh how I hate growing up!.
When you'r a child everyone smiles at you
And say's ''awe, aren't you cute''
Bur now your an adult
Your as cute and popular
As an old worn out boot.
When your a kid
and lose a tooth
You put it under your pillow
And in the morning you find a quid
But now it's something you cannot do
Because you have to put your teeth into chew.
I suppose being an adult has it's advantages
You don't get ring worm nits and puppy fat
But why did I have to grow up
It wasn't in my plan
It just happened
And now I'm a man
Petwr Dome.copyright.2014. Aug.
Copyright © Peter Dome | Year Posted 2014
Summertime…they say the livin’ is easy,
Flowers growin’ and the sun’s sittin’ high.
They say your Daddy’s rich and your Momma’s so good lookin’;
So hush now pretty baby…there's no reason to cry.
One of these days, you’re gonna rise up smilin’.
Take a look around and think you’ve got it all.
You’ll have your Momma’s looks, all your Daddy’s money,
And all the boys in town at your beck and call.
Summertime…Yes, the livin’ is so easy,
Laughin’, singin’, havin’ so much fun.
No time to stop and think about your future
And what life will bring when Summer’s done.
‘Cause Summertime, it don’t last forever.
Breezes cool and the leaves begin to fall;
And in your quiet moments, you'll sit and wonder
How you came so far, but have no love at all.
Summertime....They said the livin’ was easy;
Ain’t it sad how fast the good times fly;
And now, your Momma’s looks and all your Daddy’s money
Another sweet, warm Summer’s day they cannot buy.
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
A SONNET OF LIFE
(Apropos The Children I Know)
Act your age my darling little child;
Take care not to go about in blinded haste.
Enjoy this lovely life for a while;
Time is elusive and you have none to waste.
Listen, candy does not always last very long;
Can be as hard as rock, yet melts as easy as ice:
Teases your tongue with sweetness and then its gone;
Leaving you wading the emptiness of something once nice.
Yes, when you are young, innocent and very sweet,
This old life can throw many enticing things you way:
Making you think that it’s all good and life is always neat;
But be aware my child, life has her debts we all are bound to pay.
For just as the night must surly turn into another day;
You my child, like me, will eventually grow old and gray.
Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2015
I live where angels fear to walk
Don’t ask questions, no one’s gonna talk
Another kid’s innocence is being take
Their thirst for blood will never slacken
Love is something only found in a fairytale
But those don’t comfort, when home is spelled H E L L
Left alone for days on end
Nothing else to do but play pretend
Trying to get lost in a dream
But when that doesn’t help, all you can do is scream
I’ve called the devil by his first name
His eyes are cold, mine are the same
I live where angels fear to tread
By the time you find me, I’ll probably be dead
Copyright © Grace Faolian | Year Posted 2013
At that age, I'd no idea what would come,
If it would be love, bursting heart's seems.
Which was why it was so wonderful,
Being 13, with no worries, only dreams. .
Falling in love with every boy,
A new one to obsess over, nearly every week !
It wasn't easy, but enjoyable,
Being so sure of myself; being strong, and not
Now that I look back, I feel so aged~
Even only being almost three years older.
But that year made me what I am today,
Not just prepared, but, honestly- bolder.
For Contest: ...AT THAT AGE
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
By: Dana'lynn Smith
Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2012
Quite frankly, I don't remember at all
You see I was quite young when I took my first fall.
Don't know which parent was there to catch me
Or how hard the decision was to stand back and let me.
Did I topple forward or backward, or who made the call.
And who scooped me up crying
After the fall.
I can't remember the joy of first letting go
And taking that step without holding on.
Groping my way forward
Leaning against the wall
I got back up
After the fall.
As the Earth spun the years flew by so fast
At 17 I finally knew everything at last!!
Unexpectedly, I fell once again,
Head over heels this time
And out on a limb.
I was so sure of that bet
I gambled it all
Heart bruised abused and then broken
After that fall.
And then I broke my own promise
To not love again.
Hungry for life
I gambled to win.
Life is a theatre of first steps first
A one act play with no time to rehearse.
Co starring in roles
Cast without planning.
"Never more" echoes
The raven still chanting.
To let darkness win all
Trusting Father to be there
After the fall.
Then the day came
When I had a son
To let him learn the word hot And hope he'd not run,
Would he still love me
Or trust me at all
When I pulled my hand back
And allowed him to fall?
And knowing I'd be there again
To help him to stand
And knowing he might never walk
If I didn't let go of his hand
And hoping he didn't revert back to a crawl
When I let go of his hand
And allowed him to fall.
As the earth kept on turning
My heart kept yearning
My son now a man
Living and learning.
He hasn't held my hand now in a very long time
The cats in the cradle slowly plays in the back of my mind.
I looked in the mirror today
And noticed my dad.
And remembered a talk that we'd never had.
Remembering how he seemed towering and tall
And was there every time
After each fall.
I lose my balance these days now and again
My steps aren't as sure
As they once might have been.
In the winter of life now
I feel so small
And wonder who'll catch me
If I take a fall.
I suppose I'll just have to trust Father
With both great things and small
To pick me up on the other side
When I take my last fall.
Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2014
I remember my childhood
playing without thinking
what would happen next.
I just live life to the fullest.
I am so naïve
believe only in happiness.
No problems to think.
No harm in the mind.
Just enjoying every laughter
with the friends whom I never met again
in my lifetime after those moments.
I don't know where they are right now.
I love you past.
Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2014
age, birth, birthday, childhood, friendship, teenage, together,
Twin Unlimited ballad
Twinned at birth I shared a moment
Not too much room in the womb remained
Closeted together holding hands we laid
We were birthed apart three minutes in-between
She was named Sandra and I Diane.
It wasn't long before she was called Sandi
And I for reasons you will know 'nick-named' Didee
Nanny named me after what the British called a ‘diaper’!
Sandra became 'Sandi', shortly thereafter rhyming with Didee.
Our nick-names have followed us from kindergarten and up
And today Sandi is GRANNY SANDI And I AUNTY DIANE
But, I remain Didee still, to all my living family and relatives
I was youngest and grew up an introvert and her an extrovert
Times changed and the wild whole world saw to that!
I became myself apart from twin mania; as so did she.
It was in teenage years that we were separated as twins
We were dressed alike and shared many a birthday party
Graduation in grade 8, I chose a frilly dress not Sandi
She wanted a pair of boys blue denim jeans which said a lot
I went feminine with girly wants, nylons, training bras and rollers
And Sandi loved sports of all kinds, bats and balls and bubble gum!
We indeed went our separate ways, me the 'thinker' and her a 'doer'
Today we share senior hood and are still bonded enjoying our lives
I have been gifted with creativity, expressiveness with words and paints
She has been gifted with the gab and expresses herself with thread and cloth
We definitely are of two minds with lives differently spent
But always in one’s shadow, proudly following one another’s gain
Our years nick-named Sandi and Didee are forever stamped in our 'twined' minds!
Copyright © Diane M Quinlan | Year Posted 2015