like an interrupted dream
shadows of the one who inspired it
linger like morning dew
no aroma and no taste
yet I'm left breathless
as thoughts reminisce
i listen to this tired heart
as one deep breath
results in a thousand sighs
and i don't want to be found
but yearn to understand
why i feel like a million
crumpled stars, silently
sprinkled like paint drops
protecting the moon
feeling like glue
holding the universe together
and who am I to disturb it?
her beauty a merited gift
her departure unnecessary
her lips without speaking
could rewrite history
and I wonder
can she hear these sighs?
her call is the one I want
to answer for eternity
to speak until no words remain
give until there is nothing
defeat to her submission
is life's greatest victory
night flower of this heart
like a rainbow your presence
brightened the horizons
but just like the stars you
disappeared with daylight
15 July 2017
I'm back! Contrary to idle gossip and rumours, my account was not banned nor deleted. I left for personal reasons.
They say never go back, but I felt the need to return to support my friends and new poets.
I know there is some negativity on this site, but it has so much potential.
Anne Frank once said
"In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart."
and I know some went to the extreme liberties of writing poem about me, but what I do not understand is the obsession with it after I left. Hide behind metaphors, I hope it makes you happy and write as much as you like, because it does not bother me, in fact it makes me laugh and I already forgive you.
We are supposed to be adults, if you have a problem, then discuss it. This is not high school. It is a poetry site, a community and one that together everyone can make a great place.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.
she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.
the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.
fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering.
she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.
giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.
she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.
her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin;
their oasis away from home.
she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin;
their oasis; their heart's retreat.
a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.
they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".
startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced,
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.
her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".
she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.
the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;
with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;
to become one
with the magic of;
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
My shadow flirts with the sun
As I caress the darkness
We are one and separate
As my shadow smiles
Anxiety suffocates me
The shadow will soon fade
I shall die
One happy, one not
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
Bha e brèagha an-de
(It was Beautiful Yesterday)
There was a sailing vessel
With many a sail proudly lapping in the wind
A flag of the Celtic honor, in ruin an rented
As all the sailors sing
Of my love for you
From long ago
Before death became our friend
Oh would I be sailing from stormy seas to the Scottish glens
To lay some flowers at your side
Your beauty is now far under
My love ill wait for all eternity
For loves resurrection’s stormy thunder
Our bodies may be under stone
Our memories long lost in tales and fable
Let no man ever lay any such claim
Our love was not the gift of briny seaworthy fame
We be only stones, in a meadow blue
When you come upon our fate
Tiss with this verse, I state my case
The life that escaped our sadly date
Love though was true as sky
For long ago, she bid adieu
Her sadness at my drowning departure
As I her lover was told to be
Buried deep and under sea
Both sadness and the tossing waves
Took the life out of her and me
So when you look at fading stones
Remember the love that used to be
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
Love is such a fragile sentiment
So oft confused with sex,
So in our daily double dealings
We render it is so indefinable
Like the faint flicker of a candlelight
That is blown out by our despair,
An intimate venue of self torture.
We add to its impenetrable obscurity
Blowing the flame right out,
Thus our outrageous shadows
Are silently snuffed out.
How easy it is to forget
All our wistful whispers, those
Sweet nothings of past affections,
We no longer trudge the path made up for two.
Forgotten are those bygone days
When we believed that thistledown tufts
Were really friendly fairies in disguise.
We head for a dull and empty living
Blaming everyone else uselessly.
Aren't we the product of our time?
We slam the doors of love in our own faces,
Building woeful walls around us
Painting it with a tinge of misunderstanding,
When we can lead such a colorful life,
Giving our hearts a chance,
Laughing at ourselves.....
And at the moon above.
P O T D 28 March 2017
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017
Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)
A lavatory confinement
If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low
Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger,
straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself
Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dry grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood,
overpower any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T
By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood)
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014
Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011
You ripped me
One word at a time
Shredded my smile
Pulled at my sensitivity
I was never strong enough
To pull back my paper heart
You took the pieces of me
Arranged them in your perfect order
I prayed for the wind to come
Hoping I would be carried away
Flutter to a new more loving home
Instead, I endured your paper cuts
I became your paper mâché
Shaped into the image of you
Glued with your inconsistancies
Coated in your endless smoke
Sarcasm and beer
I marinated in your endless tears
You painted me with a retarded label
Your stupid failure of a son
Forced to endure that brush
It was with your eyes I learned to see
Everyone else was better than me
I was a failure times three
My inside empty
I became light as air
As time went on I ceased to care
It happend slowly you weren't aware
Until one day I floated past your stare
No longer raw and bare
I clawed and ripped
Rewrote my page
coming of age
Not your puppet on a stage
Contorted by your rage
I have lost you to your death
The air much clearer, still I feel your breath
Within my doubts your lies still hide
Yet within me a new strength resides
Your image of me no longer applies
Doubt and fear reduced in size
No longer your "DUMMY"
On faith I rise
For Charlotte's contest, heart and soul confessional.
Written, September 1st 2014.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
She swept the side effects of yesterday
Into an unknown place where
Longing transcends the ache
Of remembered years that cling
To wounds that never heal.
The haunting specter of childhood ghosts
Lost in some nostalgic fantasy
Sift sad shadows from the past;
Unwilling to release the pain
That surrounds her days and nights
With the relentless intensity
Of memories that will not fade.
Perhaps time is ready to embrace
The ceaseless repetition of all
The yesterdays, todays and tomorrows
Bringing reality to a new transition;
So the shutters of her mind closed
And in her darkness she found release.
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012
Please don't tell me how to feel
Allow me my sorrow
Let me cry for just a while
My heart needs to feel it's broken
I do not desire to be the strong one
Answers may never come
Still there is comfort in my silence
I reach into a place you cannot see
You are blinded by your knowing
Your strength can be a weakness
Blocking anothers compassion
I am not seeking answers to questions
Please allow me to be
Let me cry for a bit longer
Within my broken
I allow God to fill the spaces
I trust Him with the answers
He whispers within my solitude
There is a strange comfort in not knowing
I cry for my friend
I feel his loss
The devastation of not knowing
The fear of the approaching battle
I wish to listen
Act if required
Cheer for him
Celebrate his spirit
Hold his hand
Live in his moment
I will not
I promise not
To tell him how to feel
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
No flame within!
do I hold for you
no delightful delicacy
shall I put to rhyme.
No picturesque words
in italics of your
woeful wildlife, no
the ancient mariner, he
that crossed the margin
of our “Atlas of the world.”
(Still in use, [I believe] in the
old stone museum.)
One can easily live in fear
of your many mordant moods,
to see you capture the
embracing horizon, where warring
clouds fondle the sunlight,
and the departing QE 2 is
reduced to microcosm.
How can one live in awe of
you, when at the end of each
day you snatch at the light of
giving license to the veil
of damnation, soon to be cast
out of the east, driving impending
fears to languish upon the
unholy waters of the Styx?
(An extraction of the mind,
an evaporation of the memory
the spray dried brain
tossed into oblivion.)
Yet each morning an
interval to one’s ongoing
nightmare, when with renewed
levitation, the new light reprieved!
Begins avidly it’s universal
journey across Manukau’s
“Pack ‘n’ Save” Car park.
Oh yes! It is so easy to hate you;
you that brought the rest of
the world here, you that constitutes
a world within a world, that,
where the cycle of life creates it’s
own constitution, each player
judged on cue, to become an act of
fodder, mobile supermarkets
in ferocious competition with
nothing at all to give.
“Unless death itself is a gift!”
Upon the surface your
treachery still lingers, there,
tenacious tentacles lurk
within the sedulous surf,
groping blindly at sedated
rocks, those pinnacles of sanctuary
that harbour the weary,
support the rod.
Only when gravitation truly
intervenes, does the perpetual
invasion subside, leaving one in
no doubt about your promiscuity!
© Harry J Horsman 1993
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2012
I have been erased
I speak yet have no voice
Darkness I embrace
Invisible to the mirror
Into society I peer
no one sees
what does not exist
Asleep or awake
there is no existence to partake
Possessions collecting dust
While what does not exist rusts
Who am I, that never existed
That bleeds but never lived
Murdered by love
I do not exist
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone.
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs
like dandelion seeds blown from
My wistful lips when I was
waiting for them to bring back my wish.
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from
your father’s funeral.
It was the only time I watched you cry.
There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through
their watery colored reflections.
for the way your skin repels from my
Touch, quivers as though my finger-
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss.
You left her waitng..always.
I have been special to you,
she replies to your
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.
My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.
We will divide our booty
Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.
for the morning
now knocking on my window.
I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
the tangle of these vacant sheets.
Copyright © Jennifer Brooks | Year Posted 2006
Daylight is greeted with the horrific stench of food chunks
swimming in stomach acid, dribbling onto bed sheets.
Accompanied with the embarrassment of
brown syrup puddle stains.
Head is pounding
like a hammer - hammering nails into the skull.
Cumbersome movements drag drowsy flesh to the mirror,
as bloodshot eyes with yellow hue, glare in reflection.
Exhausted hands rub dense stubble,
as heavy eye lids struggle to stay open.
A cocktail of coffee and a cold shower
comfort this somber slumber.
Mouthwash and mints help disguise
the fragrance of yesterday's session with Bourbon.
Continuous sips of water, attempt to quench sultry thirst,
but the blandness cannot douse untamed flames.
Especially as days consist of sitting
surrounded by monotonous blank walls,
and staring at cracks on a vase -
silently watching wilted flowers crumble.
Struggling to defeat temptation from fermented demons,
summoned by cravings for that burning sensation,
the tongue cries for mercy.
Infiltrates the mind luring it to
lust for sour liquid passion
that infuses the bloodstreams.
Hands trembling, parched lips quivering -
only golden nectar can ease the pain.
No need for a glass, as bottle is devoured,
with momentary pauses of 'aaahhhhh.'
So begins the daily quest,
to suffocate every sorrow.
To feel numb upon request,
with no care for tomorrow.
Favouring fantasy over reality,
each drop kills the pain.
The bitter sweet taste is a lethal injection,
but the numbness helps to feel perfection.
In a place where nobody notices -
alcoholic symphonies lead to intoxicated sympathy.
To deal with being alone, to forget the world,
to forget the name.
Envious eyes can be a crime,
leading to jealous tendencies.
Hiding secrets can lead to becoming a victim
to a self inflicted demise.
An empty bottle leads to remorse.
Bitter sweet tears roll with shameful giggles.
Now the cracked vase looks perfect with flowers blooming.
Inebriant melodies mock the mind.
Attempting to dance, legs stumble and crash to the ground.
Laying there on the floor - laughing.
Then crying hysterically.
The heart has no desire to be sober,
only to remain intoxicated until death.
The Silent One
20 October 2017
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
Oh, my brother..
I can see storms causing havoc in your eyes.
All you can do is stare,
seeking comfort from a tombstone.
Beautiful marble cannot reach out to you,
nor can it hold your hand.
Tell me who will wipe away those sympathetic tears?
For I have no sympathy for you.
I still remember happy tears
rolling down her face,
as the nurse placed you in her arms.
You were held so close,
as she kissed your tiny soft cheeks
to ease your cries.
Like every child,
before you called for God,
you called for your mother.
Yet, you abandoned her...
You won't remember,
but, You slept so comfortably,
oblivious to her pain, as you found solace.
You won't recall the sleepless nights,
the pangs of hunger, nor her broken heart.
As your father, a coward, walked away.
Not once did she fail to attend your needs.
When you were sick, she sat by your side,
soothing your infant cries.
Instead of crumbling, her spirit remained strong,
in the hope for a beautiful future for her son.
how everyday, she awaited your return,
cooked your favourite meals
and bought you clothes, she could not afford.
Whilst, I became invisible..
You had everything a child could need.
Through the years,
you never noticed her fatigued eyes,
nor her wrinkled hands,
tired from working so hard to provide for you.
You lived your life, without a care.
For everything you needed
was provided. Yet not once
did you listen to a word, she said.
You met a girl, became obsessed,
and wasted all of mother's savings.
Running after materialistic needs.
Fancy restaurants, exotic holidays,
you thought you were 'living the life.'
Not once did you remember mum,
ignoring her calls, rarely coming home.
But, still she waited in anticipation.
As you laughed, she cried;
as you danced, she sat worrying about you.
You got married.
Where was her invitation?
Were you ashamed?
Or did she have no money for you?
Your ignorance became your curse,
as you lost all respect.
But still it broke her heart.
Now you stand here,
staring at her name,
engraved on marble stone.
Your tears water flowers of regret.
muttering mother's lullabies,
as you call her name,
disguised under deep sighs..
Who will ask now:
"Son when are you coming home?"
Who will replace her scent?
Never will you taste food cooked
by such compassionate hands.
Never will you be able to see the love in her eyes.
Never will you feel the warmth of her arms,
nor the love of a mother's kiss.
Turn your head in shame
and walk away.
Mum is in heaven now,
free from your torment..
14 September 2017
Example for Poems that paint a picture 2
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
Midnight hangs in deepened revelation
as the cry of elegy flows within its waiting,
hazy tears burst to deny sleep’s interval
when baby - lullabies end all pleasant leisure;
and a mother sighs from vague acceptance
enacting the glee that cradles her child’s form.
Dusk engulfs in soft hue of threadbare beam
while the weary world rests in peace
that droopy stars bow to a grief, an ache
lingering: O her words break like shattered glass…
where that shift between hesitation and mourning,
pale moonlight releases its role of night guardian.
The birds become her voice of parting
for their coos recall a babe ‘s laughter, g o n e,
D.o.n.e … how silence welcomes again
the requiem of another night coming.
Words Drowned In Tears Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings 10/21/2016
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
It has been one hell of a year for him,
so much denial
when propelled into the future
being he was forewarned as a youth,
‘it’s no fun becoming old’ by those
he would mimic as clowns
and now he, bemused while
floating within the mire of his misunderstanding.
There are reasons he is told,
although unsure he wants to know
when with one hand to grasp
at the life he once held,
the other besieged with tenacious pain
thrust into the unknown,
soon accompanied with his mind
to be totally immersed.
© Harry J Horsman 2017
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2017
I have been put in my place many times
Told how to talk
What to think
How I need to look a certain way
Be the way I'm suppose to be
Expectations to be met
I could never be me
That place that almost drove me insane
I kept being placed there
Over and over again
Yet I had no choice but to be true to myself
I couldn't be someone else's book
Placed on a shelf, in a perfect row, not standing out
No one knowing what I'm about
I ripped out the pages
Inserted my own
Scribbled on the cover
Added my own colors
My pages screamed to be read
Hoping others would hear what I said
As time went on
I often changed my design
Desperately trying to know myself
Unsure what I would find
Never really fitting in
Confused by what I found within
Hard to know where I belong
Listening to notes from others songs
Was my way of thinking right
In a distance I could see a glimmer of light
I dreamed my dreams
I craved the light
Then one day
All the pieces clicked
I fell into place
Joy accompanied by a certain grace
Comfortable with me
I live in the moment
I can just be
I am free
I know my place
Dedicated to my Friend Armand who knows
his place and helps others discover their place.
You my friend are a true original Happy Birthday!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013
Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind,
we're not straining, we're not struggling,
we're not sinking, we're just fine.
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried,
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time.
Do you want me all the ways that I am?
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand.
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand,
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand.
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind,
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine.
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep.
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires,
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire.
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin,
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in.
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same,
pleading and begging for more than just a saying,
but to feel and to see that im not alone,
with being in this love thats overwhelming.
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark,
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark.
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire.
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or,
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out,
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out,
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close,
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go,
why these tears are building up behind my eyes,
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires
and it desires to be your wife.
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true,
tell my my dearest what I mean to you,
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
Islam is non merciful
Islam is about repressive means
Islam has no heart
Over and over this chant shall start
For when we close our eyes
For when we judge our fellow man
Chants may bring us comfort
However false is the ringing of the rant
Men of terror may fly their black flags
Claiming a merciful god orders them to kill
al-Shabab reads no holy books, be sure of this
At reckoning they will be omitted from Allah’s bliss
So let us now pay tribute and honor
Let us hold a tissue for a tear so well deserved
The blood of Islamic hearts shall surely open your eyes
As I myself bow, in despair at a humble mans demise
That day, both miraculous and tragic
Salah Farah, a kind man, now a hero
His Muslim brothers became the strong and the brave
For they followed the true teachings of Islam
Salah Farah has passed on from Gods bountiful earth
A Muslim of brave heart and generous soul
He stood up for the love of his teachings
No man he claimed, should defile his fellow man
As terrorists point their rifles
At Christians shivering in fear
Salah Farah and his Muslim brothers
Stood firm with all of humanity dear
Salah Farah proclaimed “we are all brothers”
Let us do no harm
Let Muslims protect Christians
Let Christians protect Muslims
For we are one, no matter religion
No matter destiny, we must all hold true
To the values of compassion and love
As every Muslim that day, stood ready die
I proclaim, Salah Farah flew the flag of hope
His brothers choose love over death
The all Merciful’s eyes too had tears
His flock of disciples saw his message clear
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
She's going outside her comfort zone
Why would she leave her safe cell
Life has come with promises from the birth moment
Of a light at the end of the tunnel
The pain that ruin causes falls deep into the darkness
There is no need to be afraid
Every day and every night
Refuse to love, nightmares and dark shadows from the past
A constant fight ensues between her heart and mind
No questions nor any answers ... emptiness
She lets the cold breeze guide her thoughts
Moments define themselves regardless
Right here helpless, silent and breathless
Dreaming by candlelight and paper lanterns
Brilliantly defined and silhouetted, and so brightly lit
When the curtains open and music plays
Fluttering wings of magic sails on cloud nine
Flashing golden memories held within the dome
Happiness enchanting spells a heavenly rays smiles
Open arms warmly embracing sighs inside waves turn keys
One song faraway rising tides brushing sands
In the basin seed of love nourished with beauty
Eden's fruit once bitten when rose blossoms
Sweetly summer sun dances in the horizon
Kissing beams drifting faraway holding paradise
Walking inside the moonlight shadows of daydreams
Winds whispering honey coating chants your tune
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 20.05.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015
The sting of shattered trust
fills his veins with toxic spite,
contaminating his heart.
He finds solace in a bottle,
quenching his resentment,
slurring forth caustic fumes;
nauseating his liver.
Until he spits her treachery up
with a sickening heave,
in the shallow, murky gutter
of a jaded man's reprieve.
Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010
Lying silently on my bed, eyes open wide.
Watching as darkness moves in like a heavy fog.
My breathing seems to echo against the cold walls
And my heart beats rapidly as I’m plagued with thought.
Prayer like questions, if I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take, will he take me?
Instantly thoughts go to grandma, surely she’s there,
Surely her open arms will be there to greet me.
Harbouring such thoughts bring to me a peaceful smile.
I start counting all the loved ones I will soon see.
I count them as others count sheep in darkest night
They have become like soft comfort blankets to me
They make my nights less scary, should it be my time.
Soon my weary body gives way to pure darkness
I slip into a place of total nothingness
Time stands still and now I am neither here nor there
I am nowhere, floating helplessly forever
Then far off I see a light shining so brightly
Now I feel once more as my aching body hurts
I moan and roll toward the window lit with sun
Realization sinks in, I’ve made it……one more night.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Anthony Slausen’s Contest:
Near Death Experience
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
Place parsed pennies, purposely upon pretty porcelain palms.
The wanderer, restrained her raised ranting wrists!
She fell to her Humpty Dumpty position,
unable to ever be put back together again...
Each of us witnessed her fall,
yet we failed to gather those colourful leaves.
I believe we could have laid them at the base of her wall.
She sees the trees as he increases her diseases.
Deepening predatory penetrations as he pleases!
Cracking, fracking, hating, taking, and breaking.
Bringing about disappearing, as pain stains, her shamed awakening!
If we could have, would we have, mournfully watched?
Or instead, would we have held her wrists,
pulled at reddened panties, excruciated her sufferings?
Instead, we placated horrific tugged observations,
waited, pretended to see nothing,
drank our mocha-chino from starry cups!
we sat and licked our lips to the calming sound of muzak,
preferring voyeuristic aristocracy.
Oh how she cursed his kissing and biting,
the sucking of her Texan black gold!
All the while he praised her caged loins,
filling a billion barrels with her oil...
Until the time her flame set fire to his cursed wanting!
Until she summoned the winds from the east.
It was time to birth the spawn of his treachery.
Lava poured forth from mountainess risings!
He must suckle upon her displeasure,
until like creosol, his noxious presence,
combines with his own wasted wood.
Thus preserving his monumental failures,
encasing them within layers of his strangled death!
A voice called out from the West, "Where is the foolish man?
Who is left to sing about his great accomplishments?
His peculiar monuments have been laid to waste,
not a single brick remains in it's place."
No one is left to excavate the woeful forgotten.
She "Mother" seeps into the soil to reclaim his blood,
her womb is once again fertile.
She asks "Do we wish to begin again?"
The start of a great pause stings her ears!
She looks and understands,
"It is no longer good!"
Written December 29th, 2015
For me Poetry is food for the mind, sometimes it is an appetizer to whet the appetite, or it can be full course meal that takes a while to digest. Other times it can be a sweet desert that tantalizes the senses. I hope this piece offers some mental engagement and nourishment.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
I have heard, others talk about your god
He doesn't sound like a god I wish to know
Sitting in heaven high on his throne
While I'm left to suffer here all alone
Guilty of sins for which I must atone
I've called those television evangelists on the phone
Put my hands on the screen, as they gave god praise
Was that him working in mysterious ways?
They say he created everything in just six days
No wonder he needed a day of rest
He must be more exhausted with all the sins being confessed?
I myself could keep him busy for over a year
You can't imagine what's on my chest
It goes even deeper compacted and pressed
So why? I ask why
Why do I need a god of fairy tales
Hung on a cross with nails
Him who is righteous
and me who always fails
Yes tell me
I really want to know
I too would not want to know that god
Distant sitting on a throne
While we suffer all alone
Burdened by sins for which we can't atone
Confessing to some fraud on a telephone
I will let others sing their false praises
With their religiosity and New Age Crazes
Repeating pseudo wise lines and rehearsed phrases
Placing unsuspecting seekers in guilded cages
I sit here and wonder
What is there for me to tell?
I have no magic spell
God isn't a product to sell
Let others try to argue and yell
I cannot convince you what to feel
You believing in God doesn't make Him real
He has always exisisted
Deeper than any feeling
Not just a fairytale
Abstract and appealing
He says "Come to me all you who are weary"
A God of compassion
Not a "Big Bang Theory"
Because I know Jesus
I'm thankful and teary
He has answers to question's that can't be answered by "Siri"
It's hard understanding
a God you don't know
When you feel tossed by life's waves to and fro
Reach out your hand, my God won't let go
Look in my eyes
See God's reflection
With his heart I witness your perfection
You are not some evolutionary collection
Formed from cosmic dust or random selection
You are Loved that's why Jesus died for you
His love intimate
Freely given and true
Unearnable by things you think you have to do
He patiently knocks at your door and waits for you
if you open the door you will believe in Him too
I speak from my heart and these words are true
We each have our own truth is what I believe
Yours is original sin, Adam and Eve
Yet your God is intimate as well
One who Loved us even though we fell
I'll keep my mind open and wait for a sign
If he's real, perhaps one day He'll be mine
Give me your book
I'll read and test it line by line
Perhaps the water in my veins
Will turn into living wine
When with the King I dine!
Reposting after reading Miraj's thought provoking poem "In Search of God".
This is a creative exercise between myself and my friend Eileen.
I've chosen to take on the persona of a non believer who is questioning.
I look forward to her response, it should make for an interesting conversation.
I put Eileen on the spot with this one by posting it before she viewed it.
Her creative process is different than mine and I should have respected that.
Eileen sent me some soup mails with some creative ideas which I have
weaved into my story. Thanks for the inspiration Eileen, we will take on
another collaboration soon.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016
Oh, the agony of love!
It takes courage to give your heart away
Knowing feelings might not be reciprocated
Tortured souls keep others at bay
For fear of being hurt
Don’t know if I’ll ever love another
Oh, the agony of love!
Why must every spark smother?
Oh, the envy of love!
See the happy couples hand-in-hand
Jealousy is overwhelming
For one whose heart is trapped in a can
Seeking to break out
Oh, the envy of love!
Is there no end to this loveless drought?
Oh, the fickleness of love!
He pledged his devotion
Captured my heart
And now he shows no emotion
His feelings wax and wane like the moon
Oh, the fickleness of love!
Is there a way to make hearts immune?
Oh, the tempting quality of love!
Remembering days when my heart would soar
Wonder if I should take a second chance
And allow my feelings to outpour
Permit my heart to be whisked
Oh, the tempting quality of love!
Is it worth taking another risk?
Oh, the splendor of love!
The joy in my spirit has just begun
And I feel sure we’ll reach the stars
As he and I merge into one
So happy I finally took the chance
Oh, the splendor of love!
Why didn’t I see this in advance?
*Entry for Paula's "Beseech" contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
The deck of cards
Flies away in the wind
Leaving those alone
I see the pain written on faces
I feel humanities disgraces
I can not play this lonely game
I run and hide from solitary fame
In the window, you see me over there?
I am not cold or in despair
I have a meal and more to spare
I hide from musical encounters, beggars too
I feel such pain
I feel the tears
Of that lonely man
He with no teeth, in sleet and rain
Me even worse off, heartless and slain
Solitaire is indeed a lonely game
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
I balance on a tightrope. Surrounded by
lovers and dreamers, I teeter above a raging sea.
I admire their glossy smiles and envy
their bright-eyed confidence; envy is a sin, I know.
Please forgive me; a lie would carry more guilt.
The waves crash in dark shades of gray, still they smile.
Their laughter from all around pierces the thin air.
I teeter alone; I may or may not fall.
My fate is undetermined, in my own hands;
the tragedy today may be tomorrow's comedy.
Their laughter echoes...
On a day like today, the fresh tears sting.
If only I could wake from the nightmare,
pry open the windows of my tortured soul.
If only I could charm the feral...if only.
Oh, the skeletal monsters we are bequeathed!
Yes, I understand the meaning of loyalty.
A fool believes the wicked will fall.
A fool believes the merciless will change.
Can a hollow chest develop a beating heart?
I chisel stone walls, searching for a glimmer of hope,
a flicker of humanity behind steel beams.
Could you spare a token of remorse?
I dare to drop a coin in a fountain of wishes.
A pocketful of coins jingle as my wishes sink
to the bottom of the venomous waters.
I am patient as I teeter on the tightrope.
The audience cheers taking pleasure in my pain.
Blood pulsates through my veins, yet I feel cold winds
penetrate my soul. I refuse to cower or
live in contention...
Blood is thicker than ink.
I find my balance in the written word, a gift of life!
Words sometimes spill from a bleeding heart.
I beseech the ghosts of the past to end their haunting.
Their breath is the frigid wind. I find shelter...
Tempered is the skin of the wounded. Who knows
what may lie beneath the flesh. In the mirror,
you may find a frightened child in need of love.
Most find the strength to balance and stand.
Every step brings me closer to solid ground...
I am reaching for you. Please take my hand.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
SCARRED FOR LIFE
It was the beauty and glamour of a Goddess
which belied her demure and decorous manner,
covering the sempiternal pain of injustice,
suffered by the loss of her ingénue pureness.
She was the cynosore of all men that set eyes upon her,
enticed by her chatoyant, smoky dark green eyes,
the depth of which was enhanced by exotic black flecks.
Her ineffable beauty was beyond compare,
surpassed only by her lissome, smooth motion,
floating like a butterfly to mellifluous tunes.
Her internal scars were hidden by external charms,
beauty and grace to see, to admire,
but nothing could heal the pain of the past,
no panacea existed for a woman scarred for life.
May 12th, 2016
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
[ a nette onclaud collab ]
As twilight moves through the glass of dawn
I catch my shadow hiding among trees,
like ripped gauze from a withering leaf,
that slips into the brazen darkness
weary from cracks of brittle tears,
alone once more
looking for souls who are not there ...
and I weep for unfinished dreams
upon a mute moon,
while begging for fate’s new postscript
to hurl the way, a different song this time.
Unfinished vows left behind, on this night,
I cast light from the sterilized room,
matching shadows throughout the twilight
something of dreams creeps below the pillow
searching for peace and serenity
numbers become numb
I can't breathe, knowing I'm incomplete,
trite tears longing to be together
lyrics become darkness,
the sun makes laughter once more
leaving a plume of dreams above the sheets.
A Poet Destroyer Collaboration
Contest: Collaboration Celebration
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015