When Do We Start To Live
Collaboration poem: Space Cadet and Darren White
Voice: Wesley C.
How do I know we’ve lived?
If you’re certain then tell me when?
When? When have I lived?
Do I live now?
Is it the tap-tap of my hand against the window;
the drum played by my fingers on the chair?
Is it the slowed back-beat, or the snare drum speed,
under your hand at rest,
on my chest,
in this 2 AM discotheque.
How do we know we’ve lived?
Is it a faint notion, or
movement in my legs:
A lotus reed on my calves
I'd never felt until it tickled me?
How do I know I’m still alive?
Is it when the ice-blue swaddles
me in abyss, of
Or when I’m a borne flutter of this butterfly
crinkled away in my chest
Or as sun rays play
with light and words that tumble,
crumble, and fall to pieces,
in their own stubborn way,
on this paper?
Is it found in a friend’s voice
that pulls me from dark,
penetrates a radiance inward,
up from me, out,
to my face,
ablaze with why I'm here to exist?
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016
Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold,
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds,
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
Our dark founding father, of American literature,
A sinister beacon of darkness, lighting the way
Into the darkened abyss of mankind’s soul.
Within the galleria of madness, he is the
Grandmaster of the black ink, and it's
Written words of terror.
In thus the shadow realm, does his spirit
Still roam, on the cutting edge of fear,
A fine thin line, is drawn between reality,
And fictions illusionary world.
Life's a shunned, abandonment’s creation,
The lord's misbegotten son, embraced
The night's cloak, in it's power
His only salvation unto history's
Remembrance, is found a truth's
Justice and notability's respect.
Loves passionate compliant servant,
Dashed against the rocks of life itself,
Broken and damaged, he rose above
The waves of poverty, and the under
Current of tragedies broken
Some may say he wrote from the after
Effects that laid, at the bottom
Of the bottle.
Or afterfeeds drug endued comma, dulling
The emotional nerves concept between
Right and wrong, the social exceptionable
But we care not what others wish to believe,
For we honor him, those of us the dark poets,
As the father whom lead the way, between
Light and dark.
Dearest Edger Allen Poe, the legend, the man,
A spiritual dark representative, with pens quailed
Ink at his command.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | 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
The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.
Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013
Smooth as ebony silk, black aquatic waves the melting
Essence of liquid evil, stirring this lake placid of our
Eternal nightmares, deadened space in the fathoms
Deep, beneath the dreaming realm for which we sleep.
Translucent tears, left dripping in our unconscious mind,
Trick, trickling, encroaching, drowning us within the
Fear factor, heaving, and tugging at the reality of
Humanities thin realism.
Raw is this blackened well, of emotional plunging,
A pit bottomless, in suctions raw force of power.
Thy soul trying to cling against the porcelain sides,
Yet sliced by the roughed edge of illusions delirium.
Sheer glasses elliptical memorization, hypnotizing
The lucid mind, smacking hands blister at the panes,
Begging for this bad dream to end.
But your voices scream remain nothing except
Echoes refrains, that are lost amongst the complete
Darkness surrounding thee, in this murky abysses
Wake up, wake up, this is not real or is it,
The torn spiritualist grasps at faiths buoy, but
Instead sinks farther below the currents swift
Under currents, then light slits through the dark,
As lightening slashes at the blackest night, and
The dreamer shivers beneath his covers warmth.
Laying within his twisted sheets of sweat,
He wonders if any of it was real at all!
But whom can tell what lucks under the black
Waters of our nightmares, dare you to go swimming,
Into the rivers of the unconscious to find out, and survive.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015
I gaze at the wind as it blows acorss the grown wheat.
My neck bends down and I stare at the grass beneath my feet.
The thoughts I have go far in the past.
In the time before when there was no grass.
Dreams of how the land was in the time before.
I can imagine how this once was on the ocean floor.
How dark and so cold it must have been.
And all the creatures that lived so deep within.
So many living down in this dark place.
Each life to live in the ocean's fast pace.
Flowing through the currents as a leaf on the wind.
The ocean floor covered with clams that never end.
Seperate individuals that we all are today.
Much similar to the clams that lived here that day.
We all have special minds that we can share.
Not one is alike so special and rare.
Once in a lifetime there's one person we meet.
We can share all with them and it makes us complete.
Once in our lifetime theres a single event.
Like clam that catches a dirt fragment.
We hold on to that feeling with all that we are.
Always lighting our way like a nothern star.
Like the clam that holds one little piece of dirt.
We hold on to the one that gives us comfort.
After some years this clam has a pearl.
As rare as the feelings of love for this man or this girl.
Copyright © Donald Williams | Year Posted 2013
By M. Taha Effendi
Amidst the gloom of night's dark shroud,
lurks Death in far corners of the shade.
To vanquish my fears to God I bowed,
And death shall find me... unafraid.
Amidst this vale of tears and pain,
my heart in life's robbed solace bled.
God gave me strength to stand again,
I found peace in His words I read.
In pleasures and crime my life is spent,
with sins the wretched soul is weighed.
But God's love taught me to repent,
He pursued me everytime I strayed.
It matters not how dark the past,
how much the evil takes its toll.
Darkness thrives but never shall last,
The Savior redeems the conquered soul.
(Inspired by "Invictus" by William Ernest
Copyright © Mohammad Taha Effendi | Year Posted 2010
Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.
From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're seeing,
To everything out of sight.
The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.
The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred ring.
Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.
Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013
human rights are human ways
that lead down
the words above always remain
wear no crown
trap the sin
destroy the lie of conceit
don't consume all that you see
you will feel
wrong like fire
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
As your mind collects the memories of yesterday
Epiphanies tie into knotty strings of realization
That very moment. . .
You merely exist
Back then. . .those smiles
Those. . .distant laughs
Some you remember by name
Gone now maybe
Like the exhalation of the wind
Others dispersed in the world of arbitrary happening
Like leaves from falling, man-made trees
There is no doubt that they have
Activate the bomb
Ignite the fuse
And you’re on next year’s history book
But drained of all remaining good
That smile you gave
The warm embrace so long ago
Salt-coated with piles of rubbish
Over last remaining mental spurts of comfort
Evil, evil, evil, evil, EVIL. . .
Always absorbed and remembered
. . .though never forgiven. . .
All good and gracious sentiments
Packed up in a box set nonchalantly in Downstair’s storage
. . .that chair with the broken leg in the corner of the room
That mangled cobweb holding a dangling, lifeless spider
A drowned sailor’s hat drifting through the current of the ocean
The single tear from a soldier’s vigilant, memory-stricken eye
The frustrating thoughts of a mute
The unchanged. . .HATED deformations
Forgotten you. . .
One soul brings to light weary, unthought-of happenings
Wedged deep into what she can only imagine
With not even a hint of understanding
. . .of the pain. . . .of the bewildering distortions
Of the ugly. . .
One soul merely vomits sickly verse after verse
As humanity embraces its downfall
The poet hangs onto her unjustifiable, forgotten. . .
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
Digging in my heels I’m ready to run, onward I go with my back to the rising sun
Shadow demons be gone pester me not, I’ll run so fast that you’ll soon be forgot
Newly reborn with no sign of a savior, renouncing the old ways desolate behavior
Forged in fathoms of what could have been, not knowing how not knowing when
My legs tighten I take off in the sand, in search of tomorrow in search of new land
Burning back from the sweltering heat, blisters echo my pain in my pounding feet
Relentless I run from my shoes I break free, running as fast as I can to my destiny
Dried out earth slowly turns green, desert skies of red turn a blue and white serene
Grass under foot a new way is found, no longer am I tethered no longer am I bound
Freedom calls to me bellowing from within, where will it end where should it begin
Breaking the summit confident I leap, my dreams my desires these things I will keep
Diving down toward the crystal river, no more regret no more fear not even a sliver
Splashing down into the waters cleanse, my conviction is what my success depends
Swimming to the shore naked to the sun, it’s my time to rebuild my time has begun
Copyright © Drakavai the Wordsmith | Year Posted 2013
From that day on and forward,
I began to see the wretchedness my God had warned me of
He cursed the Lord wholeheartedly, for inflicting yet another agony on him,
In his well he called The Prison of Plot,
He spat the grounds and laughed at random intervals,
Then the next moment, screaming at the top of his lungs in sheer madness
Dragging his face on the walls of the well, he gurgled, and growled,
He bared his teeth at his gargoyles,
And grinned the next moment,
So tickled by the fact that none knew his thoughts,
Simultaneously so angered that none could stand before him,
And claim they knew his inner commotions,
His secret knowledges, and his accelerating vastness of existence
And to exist in his presence!
To witness his every move,
Should bring one to incomprehensible awe
Perhaps he knew not at that moment that I recognized well his excruciating prides
And his fervent, wholly selfish frustrations. . . .
This was the devil I had thought I knew,
This thrashing beast, full of darkness and hatred,
Spitting obscenities at his minions,
Laughing at their impotence….
This was the devil I was sure I would find here….
Suffering as I was
A pitiful thing
Afraid of the dark,
Hesitant of the light….
Cross-legged on the floor,
I lowered my head,
Deep in the recesses of my hopes
I could not bring myself to sing,
So I prayed ardently for joy to sprout,
Prayed for the secret strength I know existed,
Within me, and the Prince. . .
If not in him alone,
But his cause was not lost in my sight,
Nor in my bleeding heart,
No matter the ache of his hatred,
Or the burns of his insults against me
“I may be bound in the chains of your righteous God,” Muttered the mighty Devil,
Spitting violently on the steaming grounds,
“Though rest assured, I hear all, e’en your despondent thoughts….
Your restless fears….your doubt of yourself….birthed from the recalcitrant womb of evil,
I am not ashamed, oh Spirit, oh temptress, and you should not be either!”
The word fell from my mouth like a droplet of rain,
Evaporating to steam before hitting the ground
He laughed deep and darkly, locking eyes with me
“You will find no softness to either end of this sword,
Nor to the future you deny available to you,
Can you not see that you are here,
For one purpose, and one purpose only,
Not only to understand me—no it cannot be,
You wish to save me!!!”
He laughed louder, the well booming with his voice,
Running through me and surrounding me
“You wish to save me
From the decision etched in stone
Fire-searing, unmovable decisions
Vowed from the natures you dare to change!
You have come to change me—yet
Again, I only change you!
With the same idea of saving what you think you have lost!
I have not changed one bit,
Perhaps the snake hides its plot,
Perhaps the dragon possessively protects its plunder,
You are the only one changing before me
I just wait for you—for you to abandon reason,
To abandon thought, to let descend your wildest dream,
The very dream that brought you here to me
The very dream that lives in your incomparable mind….”
His words were laced with satirical ire,
And saturated in kaleidoscopic pains only one with access to light could witness
“You await the sound of my voice,” I began,
“You await the shape of my words,
Every vowel and every consonant,
So that you may tear it apart in your matchless claws.”
I spat the ground, incredulously at first, and then with joy at the look of shock in his eyes
My jaw tightened with conviction,
My heart flowed with perception
“I have changed you,
Do not try to lie to me, slippery beast,
Bash your head once more upon these pitiless walls,
Make your minions and gargoyles crackle and cringe at your fury,
Laugh and cry out in anguish,
Burn the daylight out of my sorrows,
Crawl upon me and singe the very vocals declaring the glory from up above,
In silence or in sound,
All glory is to spill on God!
The end is the end,
If you wish not to exist in the conclusion,
I will be not be desolate without you,
He grants peace and joy to those who serve Him
Can you not see this is not for you alone, oh wretched, confident dragon?
Can you not see this mercy and relief I offer you,
To fulfill my duties of Agape love?
I am not your Temptress, I am your benefactor,
Inspired by the Spirit to move you
If it is too late, than so be it!
Leave me with my God you hate till the days depart from us,
Till the moment I climb out of this well with HIM and not YOU,
A transformed being with a stronger conviction than ever
You cannot deny that mankind has changed you!
That the Spirit in me and of my God affects you,
That this light is around you
Just as this darkness is
If you cannot let the light in,
If you will not let it in,
You can never let me in…..”
He grimaced, the thought of me leaving the well fracturing his thoughts,
My words flowing like waters, not processing fully in him, but drowning in him
He was looking at something distant beyond me
But as I knew, very well,
He could not stop the fact that he heard every word,
And he could not change it,
He could not make it what he wanted,
He could think what he may,
But they were rightful words,
They were from my voice
And into his ears
That, in torture, always hear
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
I remember the first time
Voices in my head getting way too loud
Just a little girl unable to enjoy the world around me
I thought there was no way out
Almost took the easy way out
Then I saw something shining at the end of a long dark tunnel
It gave me hope
A reason to believe
As long as I kept my focus on
Thirteen and so very young
Afraid to tell a soul
About the demons in my head
I thought that I had to deal with them
For myself by myself
Until I slipped and told a friend
Finding out she heard them sometimes too
Helped me feel a little better
It is just too bad she never had a chance to see
Brightness at the end of her tunnel
After she moved away
She just gave up
Walking away from
~The Light ~
I felt so bad
Yet I managed to hide the pain
I always felt inside
Even in my darkest hours
With many attempts behind me
I kept hoping to see
It is beautiful to see how a family can rescue
Just not giving up
Always feeling their unconditional love
Knowing they were there
It all helped me walk out of that dark tunnel
Now I firmly believe it is possible
For the most troubled soul
To find a way out
Without taking the easy way
With love and support
I know you can do it too
As you go through life’s journey
Wherever it may take you
Always remember to look for and
~The Light ~
By: Jean Shular
Copyright © Jean Bonella | Year Posted 2009
We danced like this
A fit of madness, twirling around
round as the beat drowned
drowned out sounds of outside melodies
unwanted tunes, I danced with you
black dress of luxurious lace swept low
Encasing legs perfectly porcelain
Fanciful footwork-I led you-you led me
In this symbiotic synchronicity
The light cast down illuminate
a striking angle of your face
smiling, a twirl, hands in mine
around the floor, intertwined
hands in mine
A room looked on...no notice, no matter
Removed from their critique
judgement, opinion.......all words of others
They mingled into sounds of nothing
noise lost in our self-made song
Eyes locked to speak all unsaid
I kissed your pouted lips instead
our steps never un synched.......
We waltzed on as the night made dawn
The floor beneath was then sand
The ceiling now sky...now you and I
The makers of noise, a memory to forget
Just an inner existence of two
Each day we dance this way
Making song and venue all the same
Taking turns at leading step
For which of us hears the music
Will lead the other in a dance through it.....
Copyright © Steve Voorhees | Year Posted 2009
As the stars
to appear in
the night sky
crystals fall from
to watch the
over the land
Taking a deep
breath of the
we head homewards
Tomorrow it will
to get around
snow looks so pristine!
trees are hung
And so, we;ll
take in the sight
of a world of
Copyright © Matthew Anish | Year Posted 2005
as fear and
The inner self
by dark demons
The sweet rain
and light cutting through
will help to
defeat the demons
those inside as well as
As the sky becomes clear
and the dark clouds become
no more than a memory
We can once
the warmth if
We can once more
After the long, long
night of our souls
We view the light
shining on the waters
Even though we
don't fully understand
why joy has come
We welcome the change
And watch thin
wisps of dark clouds
being blown away
into the distance
and we face
the future with
Copyright © Matthew Anish | Year Posted 2008
When passion fails, love remains
Hills fell and thus will your obstacles
Even if it seems impossible
No one can withstand possibilities
Day after day try not to lose hope
Abilities pops up like mushrooms
Yielding to negativity isn't helping
Sooner we need to change our mind set
A day sets with new possibilities
Right now it's time i wake up and-
Erase the past that holds me back
Digging down my soul revealed a truth
Ambiguous visions translate to nothing
Rivalries suppresses innovative minds
Killing negativity gives birth to success
Finding my passion and dwell on it
Release the zest that keeps me hustling
Intimidation by success is lethal
Erecting a tower with positive things help
Neither the storm of disappointments can win
Destroying a clear vision is uphill
Surrender a vivid mission is cowardice
Active mind ignite uncontainable victory
Realization of a dream starts with one step
Endeavour to take a step forward each day
Fulfillment doesn’t limit industrious men’s vigor
Evicting indolent thoughts he does best
While they rest, i keep busy because I can rescue me!
Copyright © Bongani Zungu | Year Posted 2014
In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Her eyes showed me a way,
Her unique smile let my tears go away,
Her Beautiful face made me to say,
Is this Love, or what???
Started to have feeling of love,
Started to behave nicely and different,
Started to smile when there was no reason to smile,
Still, Is this Love, or what??
Tried to approach her, but felt belittled, lowly, shy,
Tried to ask her for date, but felt afraid, scared, shocked,
Tried to express my love, felt would be rejected, hurt, unheard,
Well still, Is this love, or what?
I can fix anything, why not this thing,
I can talk to any girl, why not this girl,
I can really convince anyone, why not this one,
Came before many girl, why not this girl.
Do please not tell me its just nothing,
Do tell me how to do something about this thing...Love,
Do tell me anything about this thing…Love,
Will there be rejection or appreciation??????????
Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013
Older in age
younger in growth
still heeding His Master’s Voice
the Great swirling dark illiterate masses
led by less than nought point nought nought nought nought nought nought nought to the power of 32
who prefer nukes for toys
at the cost of common everyday joys
These that hanker after the departed master’s pat on the back
for the Man-Booker
for the National Book Award
for the Fullbright
for the Visiting Professorship and/or IIAS Fellowship
for the Ivy League-Oxbridge doctoral degree
for in short the Master’s pedigree-conferring embrace
These who do not know
do not want to know
do not wish to know
will not know
if there’s a difference
between a Genji Monogatari or the Monkey
between a Sakuntala or the Gitanjali
between a poem and a public parade
These that will *******ons of postcolonial muck
And oblige their students to gorge every bit with spit
Just to stamp careers with their brainprints
These that will turn their coat
turn their tongue
turn their souls
for a Nobel
These that preen strut pout pose pretend
mouth ready to swill the millesium
this bouquet mind you titillates the left corner of the upper palate
like a petal unfolding in spring from a hymen
the dark obedient swirling masses lie dumb night after never-ending night
to ebola and dingue and chikungunya swill water
shrivelling their cramped contorted viscera
(Continued in Part Two - 2)
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012
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
From fathoms deepest keep, where man,
Shall not dare go, a white toothy giant
Dwells, with hatred's malice, this is a living man
Eater, whom lies at the bottom of the ocean.
In this striking zone, of deadly encounters,
Here where dead men tell no tails, crimson
Currents of the lifeless, float to the top of the food
Chain, and their last breaths of air explode, as
Bubbles above at the surface,
Leaving nothing behind but a bloody residue,
And the wreckage mangled life raft, and one word
Still lingers on the foreboding breeze, as a screams
Echoing drowns into whispers in silences last refrain,
Nay this aquatic Phantom, called Submarine,
Is the gray ghost that stalks within every human
Beings nightmares, just below the waves of our
Subconscious fears, a demon lurks in the darkness,
Of the murky shallows, waiting to take a bite
Out of us.
A thirty-seven foot killing machine, with razor
Blades of jagged ivory's, moving at velocities mega
Speed, heading straight for humanity's beach,
His favorite hunting grounds.
A leviathan of a shark, highly intelligent,
Circling his preferred prey called man,
The hunter is ready to appease his
Insatiable appetite that is never satisfied,
In a carnivores blood bath of mayhem,
Just off shore of paradise.
In hell's kingdom many souls scream from
Below one word that echoes through the
Chum filled surf above, SHARK.
For these are the latest victims, of
The Submarines wrath, and now they do
So warn the living, beware of this sharp
Look into the black eyes of death, take
Notice if he bares the scare of men,
And notches gouge mark on his dorsal fin,
For than thee shall know for sure, if
It is truly the gray ghost,
Known as Submarine.
If thou’ art sure, than say your final prayers unto God,
And inhale one last deep breath of air,
Than swim away, as fast as you can,
For humanity is now on the menu!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014
I have fallen victim so many times
To nobody's fault except only mine.
I will ask for forgiveness and have faith,
Even though I feel like I am not saved.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
Without the dark, we could not see the stars;
Without some pain, we would not treasure joy;
Without some upset, none would savour peace;
Without some trial, none could faith employ.
Without the clouds and rain, we'd tire of sunshine;
Without some hurt, we'd never know forgiveness;
Without some battle, none would learn to conquer;
Without some mountains, none could upward progress.
Without the dark, the light would seem so plain;
Without the dark, it would not be as bright;
And so, my prayer for all who read these lines
Is that you'll see the stars throughout the night.
*Inspired by, "Without the dark, we wouldn't see the stars."
Written October ninth, two thousand and thirteen.
Contest Name: "Write with your Heart: 12 lines."
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013
Shadows and murky darkness deep
Describe the depths of lonely hearts
That lie in wait and icy chill
For fiery love to burst in flames;
That empty chests may be refilled
And taste sweet love again!
Copyright © TE Andre | Year Posted 2013
They praise me like a saint,
But I am a sinner;
They don't know the man they see.
I am an addict.
Broken eyes to pornography,
Only Jesus can set me free.
Only by His death on the cross
And the grace of His Father's love
Am I able to be set free.
With God as The Light,
The One and Only Light,
The Only Hope in sight,
Will I be set free.
I am free.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Lord, please forgive me.
I need You.
I messed up.
Please, save me.
I trust You.
I love You.
I am a hypocrite.
Please, change me.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
A Chance Encounter
A chance encounter the other day
Got me chatting to a stranger
Just for some time to pass away.
He was very well groomed, very smart.
Spoke well too, seemed a decent sort.
I told him a little tale
I had learned whilst at work.
Outside a building that’s up for sale
Close to the centre of the town
A queue of people gathered.
Old clothes, hand me downs.
Inside people of good heart and souls
Were behind tables long.
And a kind of soup was poured into bowls.
A slice of bread was added to each one poured.
As the hungry-eyed came through the door.
As each one passed a thank you was heard.
Grateful for the meal today.
A simple reply least we can do.
All was silent no complaints from the poor.
Till a young voice said, ‘Please Mummy I want more.’
I sat back in my chair waiting for a reply.
The guy opposite gave a big sigh.
He said, ‘Things were tough in those days
Very hard for the poor in the Victorian Age.
They were ignored, did not count,
How could others treat them like that?’
No-one should be without the means I say,
To feed and clothe their children today.
I looked at him and shook my head.
My dear friend you misunderstand
The tale was not yesteryear or a foreign land.
I visited a local food bank the day before last.
And like you I was taken aback.
Unless with my eyes I had seen,
The myth about scroungers I would still believe.
Some get the dregs, others get the cream.
This is Great Britain in 2013.
But the people of our Nation are strong
In times of strife they speak as one.
‘We are mighty as Caesar, mighty as Rome.’
‘ NI CARBORUNDUM BASTARDORUM’
Copyright © Ken Duddle | Year Posted 2013