In order to obtain true freedom in our lives
Close your eyes and see the light of an angel
Wondering what this life is really all about
That it will guide you to a brighter place without turns
Thoughts about the night with a last kiss will be my end
As night becomes desperate to sleep
Tenderly rocked in your loving arms
Seduced by the dark side hiding ghosts roam
Desperation within hopeless pleas, the angel wings are broken
After walking on coals fired inside aches burning
It hurts so bad, the emotions of losing control
Show me the way love in true heavenly beauties charm
Let's break the chains burning without fire
In your power shines a beacon starlight
The pain, the demons leave inside causing our sins
Strong within it's beam pierces through the gates of hell
I can hardly breathe, in this dream where nobody dies
Forgiving past sins kisses everything better
The eyes are not blind, a rainbow of sorrow shines
Breaking free from chains of a pain linked curse
Could it be we have chosen exactly the right words of love
I am not your resistance building castles in the sky without storms
Born in the republic swept a\way within a dream swept away
I'll walk with you through the age of eternities golden gate bridge
A Collaborated Poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
There are things I don't understand
And would really like to know
Such as why they call it rush hour
And you move so freakin' slow
How come you get a learner's permit
To get a license to drive a car
But they don't give one for a marriage license
Now I think that's going too far
Why do they put deer crossing signs up
Do you believe there is really any need
In all my years of driving
I've never met a single deer who can read
I was reading a map in the park
And it definitely astonished me so
It had a red X that said you are here
And I was wondering how they know.
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2006
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
Why is it poetry, is a like dirty word and talked of in undertones?
It’s like a naughty postcard, more flesh than there are bones.
Poets tend to deny their art, “I’m not a poet, I’m a rhym-er”
Come on you lot get stuck in don’t be a poetry two-timer.
After a glass of alcohol some may admit-“I like a little verse”
“But no I m not into poetry…” It’s like a speech they did rehearse.
Now poems I’m getting good at, but famous poets I don’t know any
Don’t ask me if I’m a poet, because in wages I don’t earn a penny.
Now rhyme I am not bad at, but at free verse I would stink
As for haiku, senryu, and other forms, I stink I really think…
I listened to some so called poets; decry their art the other day
They denied their art while they listened, to what each other had to say.
Standing there with their poems held high, “I’m not a poet” they all said
Well get down from the microphone and let’s hear a poet instead…
They pass their poems around the table, like some black market currency
Not wanting anyone to see it, but they are at a reading for poetry.
So be loud and proud you poets stand firm for what you believe in
Tell them you are a poet, and just get used to all the teasing
I used to be a shy poet and I write verse with some frivolity
But the definition in my dictionary says “words with a pleasing quality.”
So now I am open to judgement from all of you wonderful poets
You have all commented on my work, but do you really know it?
You all have qualities that scare me, you really seem so clever
So can I finally admit to being a poet, from now on and forever?
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012
We love those who don’t love us
And we don’t love those who do
We long for the unfaithful
And neglect those who are true
We give to those who have no need
And withhold from those who do
We run after those who run away
And run away from ones who pursue
We flirt with those who are aloof
And are aloof with those who flirt
We treat like gold the worthless
And the worthy we treat like dirt
We die for those who’re indifferent
And are indifferent to those who die
It's the state of our foolish hearts
Will someone please to tell me why?
He says I am his heart and soul
You’re indifferent to my needs
He vows he’d die without my love
Yet it’s for you my heart bleeds
He claims I’m his oxygen
CO2 I am to you
His eyes want to eat me up
YOU’RE my honey through and through
My foolish heart has lost its wits
The world has gone crazy too
I love him who loves me not
Tell me, is this true for you?
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
Ancient echoes from the past
Glimmer just beyond your grasp
When you know that you’re alone
Of a long forgotten song
From the corners of your eye
Hints of time passed by
Of things you did not see
Of the things that used to be
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
The concerned politician was running for re-election
But a very cool, steamy sex scandal he struggled to hide
He used his thick, bald head to provide some harmful protection
By taking a scholarly, dim-witted babe to be his bride
By hiding appearances this loser won the seat he sought
But the love/hate relationship with his former mate went on
Under cover, above reproach the governorship he bought
The wickedly good scheme went awry, the lover suddenly gone
In the shadows of limelight his true love would no longer stay
The powerless governor didn’t want his private life public
And his charming, boring wife soon suspected there’d been foul play
Lying alone in her separate room made her healthy heart sick
A sleazy, reputable reporter showed her photographs
Of her husband and his lover in a platonic embrace
When confronted, the governor made a fortuitous gaff
Laughing contritely, he told his wife their love he’d not debase
But well-intentioned cons have a way of gleaming through darkness
For the long-lost mate found his way to the governor’s mansion
Startled resignation on his wife’s face so expressionless
To explain he was gay led to consolidated expansion
The news was revealed, the governor was forced into hiding
For he was no longer viewed as a truthful politician
He’d not been upfront, but back down in a closet confining
And he’d risen to downfall with a concealed revelation
*For Kristin’s “Oxymoronic” contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
It started with one utterance
that grew into a shout.
That cry grew louder in his ear.
He could not get it out.
The bellowing prolonged itself,
and then one cry was two.
His frightened eyes searched faces on
the teeming avenue.
Amidst the bustling multitude,
he gaped at strangers’ lips,
but mouths stayed shut and mocked the truth
of his apocalypse.
The cries that he was hearing came
a hundredfold or more,
a deafening cacophony,
an oceanic roar.
And nightmare revelations that
had brought this din in dreams
were now his actuality -
enwrapping him in screams.
The throng pressed on around a man
who crouched, with eyes half-dead.
And now inside a room he rocks
to screams inside his head.
For Skat's Premiere Contest -NUM 7 (posted 8/3/2011)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
As he gazed up at the Halloween moon
little red land crab became so confused
Wolves howling - he saw nothing in common
A witch flew by - he crawled away bemused
Halloween moon contest by Eve Roper
18 October 2015
Syllables: 10 per line
Word count: 32
Gecarcinus quadratus, known as the red land crab, whitespot crab, Halloween crab,moon crab, Halloween moon crab, mouth less crab or harlequin land crab, is a colourful land crab from the family Gecarcinidae.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015
Eighty-four pounds at age 27
An illness nearly claimed my life
“You have an option,” the doctor said
But the choice was one that cut like a knife
“Pray for a miracle; linger in pain
Or negate any chance of having children”
My husband had died, my hope long since drained
In a sense I already felt barren
No way to rejoice, given such a choice
Knew I’d never feel like a real woman
So I sought guidance from my inner voice
Made the sign of the cross, said, “Amen”
“Do it,” I cried, tears welling in my eyes
My body dying, I saw no option
It seemed better than facing my demise
This was my darkest hour without question
Career struggles I faced in years ahead
And there was no man standing by my side
Empty within, faced the future with dread
Had I made the right choice? Still can’t decide
Perhaps a miracle would have occurred
I believe God watches over us all
But to a pain-free life I had deferred
Instead of trusting blessings would befall
* For Ryland's "Darkest Hour" challenge
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why can't she learn to do that right?
You'd think that she'd know better.
Someone should tell her what to do,
To hone her each endeaver.
What is he doing over there?
He should be over here.
He should be told where he belongs,
And make it very clear.
She never does as she is told,
Although I've tried and tried;
What she should do and how and when,
I took it all in stride.
I spoke to her, I spoke to them,
To bring her back in line;
But she is stubborn, wants her way,
But she will learn in time,
That I am right and she is wrong,
I'll teach her that I know,
Much more about her work than she,
I'll tell her where to go.
It seems my help and good advice,
Is just ignored and spurned.
I only want the best for all,
The best for all concerned.
I guess my help's unwanted,
But if 'twere put to test,
They all would see that I am right,
And my way is the best.
No matter where you go or what you do you're going to find some people in the world who think they know more about eveything than anyone else and they will do their best to force their opinion on everyone they come in contact with. Th ebest way to handle someone like this is to give them a wide berth. Stay aloof but friendly in a distant sort of way. However, don't hesitate to let them know you cannot and will not be bulllied because this type of person capitalizes on your weakness. Whenever they start something with you it's important to make sure everyone knows exactly what was said and done when it happens so you don't end up looking the fool instead of them. When they find out that instead of keeping quiet you will fight back using their own methods against them they will back off and leave you alone.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011
In the darkening room I stood:
tears welling in my eyes:
by the windowed-wall, looking out,
my small chest full of sighs.
Headlights bright white and tail lights red,
paired, meandered down the street,
yet the white headlights that I sought
seemed only to retreat.
Cold, calm, singular, tear drops fell,
soon reaching down turned lips;
as in the house across the street,
the living room was lit.
A Father held his baby high.
He hugged that toddler tight.
I wiped the corner of my eye,
and gazed into the night.
Above the darkened woodland near,
beneath a cobalt sky;
the highway brought their Fathers home.
alone again stood I.
Horns blared out in drives near by
sweet laughter filled the air,
and, in the drive across the street,
their Fathers did appear.
The children ran out slamming doors,
on small unshodden feet,
with tiny squeals, and upturned cheeks,
their Father they did greet.
Where was the father who I sought
our lives incomplete
a traveling man, my Father
did nothing but retreat.
*A memory from when I was 8.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2008
The sun kisses my fresh washed cheeks
It’s warming on my face
The breeze rustles my just brushed hair
The mist disappears, its fingers leaving a wet trace.
The birds start to sing
They are late it’s already past dawn
The insects start to buzz
On this fresh brand new morn…
We are happy to awake
A new day to explore
New challenges we take
As we exit through our door.
A chance to do good or bad
The choice is up to you
To be happy or be sad
Or spread a smile or too.
The pink fingers of cloud in the east
Mean red sky in the morning
Will the old saying come true?
Is this a shepherds warning?
As the sun set in the west
Only sunset just last night
The red sky was at its best
That should mean shepherds delight…
Is it shepherds warning or is it shepherds delight?
Now I am so confused, is it morning still or night?
Is it going to be fine, or are storms on the way?
I wish the bloody shepherds would make their minds up today.
© ~GG~ 7/06/2012
Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012
Your life is a journey
Which will never wax or wane
A beacon of bottled moonlight
Anchored waves of radiant rain
There is no demise
Or salvation of plundered plight
Cast into a sea of superstition
In the depths of torrential night
Your life transcends flesh
That sinking vessel which we mourn
It resides in a shipwrecked message
Found on the shores of faith’s forlorn
Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2006
In the mist of life, I have found myself
lost and alone in a wood dark and gray.
A chill to the bone, a fall to the depth
a longing to feel the warm rays of day.
There was but one road which ran to a church.
There was many roads that ran far in the wood.
Like a fool I have run past Elm and Birch
this lost road turned to a trail where I stood.
A dark cloud now forms a narrow cold sky
a wind from the North, which blows coastally.
My choice brings no answer only a sigh
it made years ago and so willfully.
Weary am I of a life on this path
wishing to visit my option again.
Fearing my Lord or fearing His wrath
I backtrack this road but only in vain.
Before me a puzzle of rock and stone
reaching far back before a road in time
planted me deep in a mist with no tone
searching for a life, that I could call mine.
This narrowing track turns back on itself,
the undergrowth soon will stand in my way.
In the mist of life, I have found myself
Lost and alone in a wood dark and gray.
Copyright © Mike Samford | Year Posted 2007
I do believe in magic
I so believe in peace
I believe you know undoubtedly
Of beauties and of beasts
The human spirit can withstand
And rise above the shrine
Belittle all you want, my dear
I’ll be the dwarf in time
But I’ll evolve as I hold dear
These sentiments that haunt you
I’ll cherish every single tear
Because you’ve plagued me to
I’ll turn the other rosy cheek
Though undeserved it may be
I will forgive, but won’t forget
The promised growth inspired in me
Further more, I wish to say
Remind me that I’m still alive
Disturb the sleeping monsters
Please provoke me to survive
You compliment this hypocrite
Attention seeking scum
And help stick out the finger
That outranks the sorest thumb
Copyright © Brandon Basson | Year Posted 2006
Don't give me that look
It was just a cut
I am no crook
I feel better
To see my arm bleed
You yell, "Get Her"
But the cut is my feed
Why do you make me stop?
It doesn't hurt that bad
You are not some sort of cop
Cutting makes me glad
I don't feel anymore
But the sharp blade
I am no longer hurting in the core
All the feelings fade
I wear a jacket
To cover the scars
And I'll have to hack it
They are my permanent memoirs
So I'll just sit
And sharpen the knife
Don't throw a fit
This is my life
It's not like you know pain
I do, more then others
I live life in vain
And I won't get help from my mother
I don't want your help
Just leave me alone
So just hush your yelp
Don't give me that tone
This is my choice
Not yours to say
The cut is my voice
So just let me waste away...
This is for anyone, who has felt alone, you aren't, things can never be as bad as they seem, just keep
moving and never give up.
Copyright © Jen H. | Year Posted 2009
i took the nails, and the cat too.
the hammer, the sink and the bed.
i burned them all. except the cat.
cos she loved me much more than the one i wed.
Copyright © Luke Kenneth Casson Leighton | Year Posted 2006
I get the silent phone calls.
I know she's on the line.
Why don't you be a man for once
and choose her home or mine?
You say I must be crazy
because I do accuse...
You must have forgotten
how much I have to lose.
I've given you the better part
of my unhappy life.
Why can't you just be satisfied
with me being your wife?
Have I made you be unfaithful?
Do I not fulfill your needs?
Or is it just your selfishness
that makes you do such dirty deeds?
I'll get the strength to leave you,
and believe me...when I do,
You'll Pay for all the pain you've caused
when she does the same to you!
Copyright © Mary Nagy | Year Posted 2005
Once again to my chagrin
This nightmare perseveres
And through the glass it comes to pass
To feed upon my fears
And it seems to slay my dreams
And in their stead leave blind
Mine own two eyes to that one prize
My soul doth seek to find
Still I pray that night gives way
And cures this circumstance
That captive holds my weary soul
Within it's darkened trance
And perhaps lay loose the straps
That bind me to this cross
And free from 'round my neck now bound
This curs'ed albatross
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
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
Lord, I do not know what to do;
Please, lead me by Your side.
Decisions I'm facing are lost and through;
Please, lead me to do what's right.
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
A smile that warms her heart.
With bright, shining Angel eyes.
Soon his whole world would fall apart.
When he sadly watched as his Mother dies.
No one to listen or believe what he saw.
For years the truth lie in wait.
Each passing day, the pain made him raw.
And for his step-dad rose a new level of hate.
A troubled youth is what he'd come to be.
Violence, drugs and alcohol to deal with the pain.
When the truth came out it didn't set him free.
Watching for Santa as his Mother was slain.
After years, Justice was served for his Mother's death.
But her kids would have no justice at all.
They would never hold her again so they remained bereft.
She'll never be there for them to hug, kiss or call.
She loved her kids, especially her eldest son.
She was taken too soon by a drunk, selfish bully.
He didn't care who he hurt or what he did to anyone.
Its not something her children could understand fully.
Her son now sits in his own personal Hell.
Taken away from society to pay for his unrelated crimes.
So now he stays in that six by six prison cell.
Hoping that he'll heal in a matter of time.
I'm here for him and I remain his friend.
I wait for that shine to return to his now haunted eyes.
For that smile to brighten from his sad, dull grin.
I'm someone who can love him and quiet his cries.
Copyright © Aleera Canino | Year Posted 2009
Dr. Them and himself remind us
There is no cure for life or after life
They give their assurance without playing with themselves
It is only the here and now that counts
Doctor has a dual personality of balanced size
To help keep you alive, so do comply, happy side by side
Turn over your wallet so you don’t expire
Not for any other reason, but medical, of course
The need to visit golf courses is purely coincidental
If you give us your insurance card we’ll throw in dental
With multiple personalities we need more fees now and then
New pools and houses would please us to no end
Dr. Them says; for all things medical, medieval or stormy
Take 2 aspirin and call him in the morning, (which him is up to you)
Accordingly, they will tell you about storm warnings you can use
If you call him or them a meteorologist, that will be billed too
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
Oh, what am I going to do, today?
I've got so much time on my hands that I
Will simply go mad if I don't find a way
To fill it all up with some stuff to get by.
I try to stay busy with this and with that
And sometimes it works but at others falls flat
I think at such length that my head starts to hurt
And then I relax with a cup of yogurt.
I once had a job where they worked me to death
I grunted and groaned 'til I gave my last breath
The medics restarted my heart with a jolt
I thanked them, then, wisely, decided to bolt.
I could someday make a good living at rhymes
But all I might do is to fall on hard times
I'm cracking my skull like a ripe coconut
To pull myself up and well out of this rut.
A jack of all trades but sad master of none
Among all that's not new now under the sun
I can't just go out there and find a nice niche
It makes me so crazy I want to yell, "SHEESH!"
Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015
I don't understand you, so...that means you don't exist.
You create spectacular works of art impossible to resist.
Your thoughts and actions are written down, in indelible ink.
Ignorance and ingratitude doesn't move me to ponder, to think.
It's much harder to say, I'm confused by you, I just don't understand,
What is the purpose for my existence, where do I fit into your plan?
A humble person will admit they need help, that they might be wrong,
Misguided or misled, they still feel the need to be loved and to belong.
When one doesn't understand abstract art, because there's no nature scene,
Rejecting Twelfth Night, because they don't know what Shakespeare means.
Saying Picasso doesn't exist, because one doesn't know his brilliant mind,
Isn't saying there's no Creator the same, presumptuous, the pinnacle of pride?
John Derek Hamilton November 20,2015
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2015
Vultures of doubt hover in my mind
Death beckons me
Live like a Stranger in my abode
Naught for me to live
Sparrows tweet around
On the soil beside me
Bend down, I sip water
Made muddy by rain
Came out of my walls
Tears flow down my eyes
Quench my parched throat
My hearts start beating
Feel light and tranquil
Sky is my home
Birds are my friends
Dogs line up to seek food
Push all away, I laugh aloud
My plate was empty a moment ago
Brimming with madness
My hands are full
Copyright © Suresh Iyer | Year Posted 2010
Along lush woods that slither on hills between
Evening of Life recalls a town ,so quaint
For joyride cruising new borders, my dream!
Though on sharp ridge, pale oak warns of restraint.
Held by twisted stems coiled on ruined track
Grasses freeze, sad among twigs from the glen
More sad than death, or all deaths can exact
A calling of Time stirring its bleak omen.
In a wham, a daze passes through my head
Scenes of auto crash splinter like ripped gown,
Thrown in a realm farther than black-wired sky
My body sprawled on pools of blood’s seabed.
Succumbing to visions erased by clear light
Pulse rouses to chimes of Amazing Grace;
A gruesome day I won’t relive, despite
Promises of thrills that wait to amaze.
What I Woudn't Want To Relive Contest
Sponsor: Black-Eyed Susan
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2013
Golgotha seemed no risk to view,
As the Place of the Skull beckoned anew.
My heart hammered for I saw no escape
From the man with a shovel and tattered cape.
His shovel waved, as if to attack,
And he gave the ground a wicked whack.
He shoveled some dirt and filled a hole,
Then I recalled the story told.
After the Crucifixion, like one possessed,
To fill every hole was this man’s quest.
He said, “I caused His death, to my shame.
The hole for the cross was my blame!”
I replied, “Sir, he died for you and me,
To fill holes in our lives, don’t you see?”
As he stood weeping, his mind in shock,
I said, “Sir, we need to talk.”
Copyright © James Tate | Year Posted 2012
The spiritual zeal within,
Is gone, when earthly duress set in
Life becomes dull and messy,
And your heart turns poignant.
Whenever you feel blue,
And nobody is there for you
Just call upon our Redeemer
His love is beyond compare!
God will mend your brokenness;
He’ll renew your strength,
He stays with you, forever
And He makes you feel better.
Copyright © Estela Canama | Year Posted 2015