Over the top lads, for old Blighty! Hold the colours high!
Say a little prayer for me, for this summer day we die.
My brothers from the ripened field and blackened mill, shop floor,
Your brother in a killing field to fight a rich man’s war.
In bloodied mud and shattered wood, fight legions of the brave,
Unwitting youth, you’ll do your duty until you’re in the grave.
A sergeant greets a fresh-faced boy, “welcome to the slaughter!”
Here you die from three diseases, bullet, gas or mortar.
In arms we fight together and in leaden hails we pass,
We die amongst the filth and stench that once was verdant grass.
“In the morning we will remember them” we hear the leaders call,
Those fickle words of history, will not remember us all.
Copyright © Howard Bull | Year Posted 2009
"THERE HE WAS HOLDING HIS HAND OUT"
God, can I hold your hand and follow you?
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth. Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You ran to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles and tribulations. We could not speak, it was my light that kept you from going weak.
God, are you a dream of beauty? The holy book.
My preacher spoke of the afterlife, calling it paradise.
I remember now, I felt this company once before, this light.
Many times, I forsake the light and still you never left my door.
I felt it on the day I was born,
the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it once more?
Lord pleases clarify the day I fell down to my knees, accepted Jesus as my savior?
On that day, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my failures’.
Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road. This light never left you.
My sweet child did you not listen,
Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible.
My child, you were not searching for the right answers.
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray enough?
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself,
I always answered even when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your soul's disguises.
Lord, I have other questions to ask.
What should I expect out of my personal sins?
My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence--
How is it that I am in your promise land?
Getting right with me has brought you here!
One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see My Daughter, Mothers, Sisters, family, and friends?
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
a rug of loneliness,
a sleepy heart huddles
against such memories
of togetherness and not of
goodbyes, hating to disperse
the fiery rhymes of your lips,
as well as the warmth of its
sweat...tastes like red wine,
then it beats...and beats
gently, as it envisions
you, in an early
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007
Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.
She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.
She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.
Scars selfinflicted are better than that
As she lays a broken shell gazing at the celling.
She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.
The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.
At times it gets to uncomfortable so in
another direction we steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles hear.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…
the orange tinged carnations
were a perfect complement
for the skies
and for you…
orange and blue
always remind me of you
the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…
what I am looking at,
that it’s been seven years
of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…
But there are days,
such as today
which make me
confront that reality—
I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love
Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they
make it so real for me?
I look around me
and look for that sign
Nope, not there…
I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared
I kiss the date that you were born
and walk away
my reflection on the car window
One last look around,
and then I see it…
a cat, as we drive away…
Skies now streaked purple and pink
**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
He has no
longer his own will
Caught in the lion's caves
dark gray clouds closes sunlight
He wants but can not
nothing to lose,
is he a loser?
Thoughts about life
The past, no roses without thorns
Tomorrow will come
He sits on a bench in the park
cold and dirty
a half-full bottle of spirits
This is his life
a day without sunshine
He hears the lions roaring
trying to block out the sound
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013
Life and cigarettes burn to fast.
We waste are time.
So within the moment you bask.
A pretty face has to age.
Every story meets it's final page.
When life breaks you over its cost.
Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost.
The lights in the street hide all but the truth my
You can act.
But you can never mask your fear.
In dark rooms you sell all but your soul.
A wicked moment a stolen encounter.
All things take there toll.
That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm
to be cold.
A secret that the bitter have already told.
Can you wash away there stench as from
the past you are tossed.
In dark corners blood stained angles
sing a lullaby to the lost.
Is this hell or a nightmare that knows no end.
A cell to most.
To others the only refuge inwhich they
she falls to the floor a lost look needle
Most will rememeber a doomed fool.
Others her wreckless charm.
She was a junkie and a easy lay.
More bones are broken.
Over words others say.
She sold flesh but payed the ultimate
In a dingy corner of th world.
Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...
i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..
many months and thousands of hours,
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..
i understood, i felt his pain,
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.
living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..
as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..
i felt he was worth giving
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..
america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.
the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying,
i was alone in a strange country,
knowing no one, in a house, not a home,
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..
with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..
i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..
planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut,
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.
jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe,
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks,
terror still haunts me; i am determined
to not let another change me.
i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.
~this was me~
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2007
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
The saddest eyes I have ever seen, were green
Filled with broken promises and broken dreams
And looking closely in them I could see
Every horror and trauma she had ever seen
And the tortured past… that her life had been
And I cried the tears she could not cry
As she hid behind her broken eyes
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010
One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."
Copyright © Le'Rita Clark | Year Posted 2006
"When humanity becomes louder than love, stay out of its way. At times, it's better to be the lion in the distance, rather than the sheep losing their way...again."
This was the 1st time
I felt out of place.
Its impact mimicked abused parallelograms
Unto emptiness’ solution
I witness sliced wrists shedding bohemian smiles.
Latching onto anchors of invalid mo(u)rning
There was no sunrise to be found,
Because humanity kept making love to silhouetted blinders
I was surrounded by shovels
For the sake of digging louder messages’ trench
Caress incipient wings
And half-full Windex bottles
Just to keep perception from clouding my lyrics
Because nobody wants to see eye to eye…
…cataract-laced speeches permeate tainted whispers
Of an innocent breath
For B-rated serendipity
Oh, this was the 1st time
I felt out of place.
Turning away from windowed afflictions
To step towards gratitude’s breath
No longer looking in
How good it feels.
Yet, I still miss my friends.
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2014
What makes the decision
To flick the switch
To end ones life
For the sake of it
Bullied at school
Fork in the road
To let death rule
Daughters and sons
What ever affects them
They just can't outrun
Sadness and tears
By all left behind
Will they ever understand
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
He called it love and his captivating way,
She called it fear and longed for the day.
All alone she cried those bitter nights,
While he ran around to his hearts delight.
He had her heart he pulled her strings,
All she ever wanted was the joy that only true love can bring.
He controlled her mind, her spirit, her soul,
All alone with no hopes of ever achieving her goals.
Completely stripped of confidence and pride,
She became a victim of his heartless and evil side.
She was hardly a child when he stole her heart,
Lured in to his web with lies and broken promises from the start.
Now all of her dreams have faded away,
As she musters up courage to try to make it through another day.
He has convinced her that what he says is the final word,
No matter what she had read or heard.
You can’t make it out there, alone, is what he said!
You won’t last a week till somebody finds you dead.
So callous and cruel he chose those frightening words to keep her here,
But she had reached the end and leaving was the only way and she saw it clear.
She said you’re right and I should hush so let’s not fight,
But her things were packed, she’d be leaving this night.
He got all dressed and went out to make the town,
She called her a taxi and left that clown.
She broke the bonds that held her there,
Now she’s on her own enjoying life and breathing in this new found air.
This little sparrow has found her wings,
Enjoying everything this life can possibly bring.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2008
The crossroads led me to the edge of life,
a rugged path of love that caused despair.
In turmoil to escape my feelings rife
with anguish of a heart beyond repair.
By chance I wandered off the beaten track
to find a lookout with a view of might.
With past ways leading to a cul de sac
I stand above the beauty of the Bight.
A step to death, a stagger off the ledge,
on shaded stillness of the rocks below,
to end it all, against a future pledge,
befall the fate of love’s lament in tow.
In flight and fall, behind is past remorse,
A cliff to climb and conquer life’s new course.
1st September, 2016
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
A fleeting still small voice tries to warn me
A sudden overwhelming desire to run
The tell tale taste of metallic flakes
Means my nightmare has begun
Everything around takes on a ghostly pallor
A landscape of anguish and corrosion
A moment of silence before the violence
The flash of light, the brilliant explosion
The sound of the Sun fills my ears
Fear, my throat, though none escapes me
And paralyzed I clench my eyes
As my tormentor prepares to rape me
And it's endeavor is absolute
Consumption is its ultimate goal
It exists to chase me so it can erase me
Whilst feasting on my soul
And then that familiar salty smell
The sudden rush of warmth so stings
Engaging me relentlessly
In vile unspeakable things
Over and over and over again
My limbs stretched and wrought
As it's teeth tear my bones bare
It's mind defiles my thoughts
And still wounds beget wounds beget wounds
As in the mouth of madness I suffer
And with every injury he just seems to be
Rougher and rougher and rougher
Then just as suddenly as it began it ceases
And for a moment I am clearer
And then the true horror of it all
Is revealed in a darkly lit mirror
There in front of me stands my destroyer
Face flush with it's fill of my pain
And I find that it's eyes and mine
My God, they’re one in the same
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2011
We swallow boulders:
(lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken)
Mouths open wide and heads tipped back
like Hawaiian fire eaters.
Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history,
sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect
The stones settle,
Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight
'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk.
We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that
we've had rocks for breakfast,
lunch, dinner, for years,
in the hopes that someone will recognize
the broken concrete footprints behind us
and touch us gently on the forearm:
"Honey, are you alright?"
(and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble
the already cracking facade?)
There's no stopping the torrent then,
tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing
to the point of cathartic vomit-
boulders of every shape and size
tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room;
broken teeth and granite eyes
until we no longer see the floor, the walls...
And then serenity.
The hand has moved to the shoulder,
forming a universal hug.
"I'm here now... and you're ok."
We stand up, together, and leave that room,
a soundless void of yesterday,
to absorb the impermeability of stones,
carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity.
No weight at all now, and barely a second glance,
but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
I am a coward with open sores.
I write and wonder who it bores.
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly.
I see others carrying out my dreams;
that’s what’s defeated me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way.
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say...
I worry the world will leave me.
I cry because no one believes in me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I understand nothing comes easy.
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me.
I dream I am healed and brave.
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave.
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours.
I am a coward with open sores.
© 2011 ~JSLaM
* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
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
Behind the mask there is a frail and fragile me
Enigmas clothed in conundrums; that the naked I can’t see
'Behind the mask is concealed, my authenticity
Examine my history to unravel my perplexing mysteries
Behind the mask it is unseen paralyzing, piercing pain
With arrogance and self-assurance camouflaging the shame
Behind the mask is hidden my true Identity.
Seek and survey the signs of my obscurity
Behind the mask is veiled a heart that’s been broken
Held together by unexpressed resentment and animosity unspoken
Behind the mask is where my insecurity hides,
Like realism wrapped in riddles, you must read between the lines
Behind the mask is where I cover my falling tears
Dig just below the surface and you’ll unearth my crippling fears
Behind the mask there are cloaked secrets unexplained and untold
Decipher the symbols to crack my encrypted codes
Behind the mask you’ll uncover my True expressions
Remove and reveal parodies, and expose the false impressions
Behind the mask, it is hidden, my Individuality.
Not acting out some script of who I’m thought to be
Behind the mask is obscured my, vulnerability
Suppressing the mounting manifestation of the inner me
Behind the mask it is disguised, my true reflection
Underneath open wounds inflected by rejection
Behind the mask rest crushed and shattered dream
Where fear muzzles roaring whispers and screeching silent screams
Behind the mask is buried, my stolen youth
Deception, and cover-ups, masquerading as facts and truth
Behind the mask is where I screen the confusion
Look close and you’ll find, trickery and deception, draped in fantasy and optical
Behind the mask it’s stifling; it is hard for me to breathe,
The walls of deceit that i have built ,are quickly closing in on me.
I am trapped behind facades of smirks and phony smiles.
So may I please remove this mask just for a little while?
Copyright © ChiquitaChiamaka Baity | Year Posted 2011
Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much anger,so much mistrust,
Always expecting the worst,
Always conversing about the bad
things life has to offer,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much hurt,so much pain,
Bottled up bad experiences overflowing,
Crying to be unleashed,to be released,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
High expectation,countless plans,
Many things to still achieve,
So many things you still haven't done,
Behind those beautiful eyes,
Is a body,searching for comfort,
A mind,searching for peace,
And a heart searching for true love,
All behind those beautiful eyes.....
Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2012
In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden
Copyright © Jennifer Abrams | Year Posted 2012
Once, it sold cultivated
pigment, before it became
a catacomb of cardboard drapes.
Makeshift out-of-business signs
made me wonder if the gallery owner
intended his display,
subtitle: irony frames rage.
Gone, the watercolour
weeping chartreuse, a harsh backdrop
of morose blues; Gone, the oil
on wood, knife strokes applied
so thickly, it almost moved; Gone,
charcoal sketches of thunderstorms
greying the shores of Port Elgin.
Dark, now, halls that sheltered
dreamscapes, art undisciplined, squeezed
into corners, elbowing for attention.
for one dove
that clung to an azure sky,
the coo of my name,
but I'd been unable to take him home
to my cube cage. He deserved
a rectory or a view that would provide
sanctuary. His wings had beat against
pulse points; one feather
tickled a memory
of a robin that aimed
for a cloudless sky but
collided with a picture window —
its point of contact left a scarlet smear.
Grandmother carefully wrapped
the corpse in yesterday’s news.
I trudged to the garbage can,
unseen, found D-E-A-D
in its shroud, snuck to the garden
and buried it under tall phlox,
florid snap dragons; a child sobbing,
wrenched by a world
where beauty is fragile,
Today, people walk along the street,
hold devices that fail to signal
that something living slowly
starves to death, atrophies; I watch
a happy girl point to a puddle,
but her mother fails to see
the large coin it holds.
There had been a portrait,
like a sun shower, its perfect fault lines
of light and rain, a woman shoed in waves,
almost overtaken, her footsteps
stolen by unnatural foam…
I am so sorry, artist unmet,
do you even know
into a shut window.
Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2012
Don’t judge that kid with her arms all scarred
Don’t brand that kid as bad
You never would have survived
If you had the life she had
So say a prayer and show you care
She’s paid more than her share of dues
Don’t put her down or say bad things
Until you’ve walked that mile in her shoes
Those who suffered in war earn respect
They are greeted like super stars
She came from a war you wouldn’t understand
On her arms, the battle scars
Her own home was the battle zone
The desperation, feeling all alone
A situation she felt no escape from
Then late at night the urges come
Innocence lost like a bad dream
No self respect, no self esteem
It is an ongoing battle to feel whole
You can see the beauty within her soul
Sometimes I pray for a Judgement day
You have no heart if you look away
Flashbacks come and the anger stirs
The guilt she carries isn’t hers
There is a need for justice long past due
A need for acceptance from me and you
With anger, despair and fear demanding
The child needs some understanding
In spite of all the tears she cried
There are still battle scars deep inside
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
You made the mistake and now,
your afraid to face this day.
Your thoughts are racing through
You wonder if your family looks at
you as a disgrace, but you'er mother
takes you and reasures, your very
much loved in grace.
Even though your much to young
for this breathing little thing this
You couldn't just throw it out
like it was a peice of trash.
So you grow up and take the
path that led you to your best
mistake for years to come.
Copyright © Emily Kroeger | Year Posted 2009
Obsessed with the thought of you
wondering if it's only me or
if you sometimes remember the sweet things you've said
and if you meant them how I took them
or if I'm just obsessed with what's in your head
Obsessed with your very sentences
Every response I take personal
I know it's selfishness
Have you not noticed my eyes?
They hold secrets that only you can unlock
if you'd just take time to fill the thick juices of my pride
It's just boiling with lust, passion, trust and distrust
and other things I obsess over so much
I find myself writing to free myself from this prison I've created
where only you and I reside
I become confused about what I'm really feeling inside and I
try to rid the thoughts that are highly debated as false and I
begin to cry and
think of casting love spells so that the universe can deliver this affair
I know it's unfair
but I don't care
I'm obsessed with what hasn't happened between us
I'm obsessed with your heart and that the fact that
I don't think you've even noticed my selfish innuendos
and secret undertones that blatantly express my lust
Or maybe you have and you calmly remain in resistance of distrust
If you could only read my mind by simply touching my fingertips,
I'm sure I'd catch you out the corner of my eye biting your bottom lip
I'm obsessed with the passion and thoughts I think you have
Obsessing over an experience that I may never have....
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
Make no haste,
your work is restless.
Aeon give me pause--
no more ticking
ever towards the
Live the now.
Even Death took
veering briefly from an
eternity of reaping
Take your time
on earth and
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2010
Vincent Van Gogh~Starry Night
a precarious world of indecision
a dark pallet of light
this brilliant depiction , it does scream , it cries out
blues and yellows swirl in a maze of defeat
a crescent moon suspended in a blissful evening , hangs lone in agony
I rest within this small town of hope
my eyes are saddened , my mind relentless in delight
You are mine , my asylum , my starry night
a dimension of light under this wrenching canopy of demise
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010
Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years
And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh
His frame broken down by the years now passed by
The end of the final chapter, his book has grown old
Soon in a faith filled church, his past tales will be told
He’s a person, loved, surrounded by his living history
His family hold one another, parts of his closing story
Go quietly now love, for the time has come to move on
Hush now, your wearied tiredness, is oh so nearly gone
Soon the warmth of living will become so stiff and cold
Leaving this earth’s dusty soil, so as to join an eternal fold
He enters deaths doorway that will close quickly behind
A peace beyond imagination, a kind welcome he will find
Tears flow, fond goodbyes are spoken a kiss of farewell
Do not mourn too long have faith, know he is now well.
Patrick Brennan © 2010
Copyright © Patrick Brennan | Year Posted 2010