It is quiet tonight.
The only sound is coming from
the soft murmur of the television set.
I don't know why I don't just put it on mute.
I don't want to hear what they have to say,
but I guess it is better than the sound
of silence which is deafening.
It hurts my ears, it hurts my heart.
Yesterday I was happy, but that was before,
before I stepped into the dark abyss.
I think I may have been pulled in
by the apathy of death.
Death has such long arms.
I won't ask why, I know everyone must die.
But you left on a happy day, a day we were
making plans, and I had hope,
hope that we still had time,
time to share those plans.
You made me laugh until I cried that day,
and then death swooped in
and took it all away.
It is so quiet tonight.
© Connie Marcum Wong
August 10, 2016 Poem of the Day
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
Not with my arms but with a heart
that blesses your reveries, may peace reside
within your chest... is it possible to love you
less? Perhaps allow the sun to brush your hair
in the luminescence of dawn?
Even autumn envies you as white light
moves with your scent and possesses
your laughter never to be mine again in times
of harvest or falling rain…
and from stars above, may your eyes
remember our blades of grass
while I half-close the damp field of memorials
creaking on the burial of a resting place
that finds me kneeling, wailing, asking how time
can drown our adventures much too soon...
as I stumble upon this cruel, bruised night.
Contest: Greg Barden's The Poet's Heart
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.
beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.
the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.
in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2017
like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come
dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings
don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat
I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure
but, this was my child who loved and lost
impossible........I can't express it
protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine,
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control
like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us, and then they all go home...
do we cry........? Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now
for, this was my child who loved and lost
impossible........I can't express it
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon
Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem
After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-
Still who am I to be a pessimist?
And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling them to stop comparing
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams
In the Hazmat can
Sorry if I let things get out of hand
Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer
And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you
Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?
And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about
I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-
Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good
And i wish i could snatch
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery
So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer
And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying
But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
Was really the best of all
Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems
Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015
Screaming at the Sky
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky
holding their heads helplessly as they cry
pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered
in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars
drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity
on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but
who really gives a damn, only grief-stricken
mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line.
The 1st line and the 8th line are the same)
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014
an impression of the world
stands before me
Left is right, and right is wrong,
and the mirror reflects a melancholy song.
i the mirror
the babbling brook,
the rippled river
whose images tell harmless lies.
who was once held in the
weak, shivering, hands of a life nearing its end
on broken, crushed bones, crumbs
one thousand shards
the jaded moments of my life.
an unintended semblance in the raging waters
crashing against the killing rocks of the rushing falls.
never utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"
the serpent swallows the swollen cow,
swallowed - the farmer's wife,
swallowed - her son,
swallowed - the thorny toad,
the black widow spider devours them all!
i the empty frame
the bits and bites of carpenter ants.
a perverse facade
what should of been
NEVER utter the curse
"it can't get any worse"
will bring me peace,
will deliver me,
burn my body whole
dig me a deep hole
throw me void of soul
the waters of the screaming ocean
who herself dies a slow painful death.
Dec 20 2015
with a major contribution by
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
With every breath I take my body aches,
When I lie in bed I feel my insides hurting.
With every reminder brings me pain.
No more can I find comfort in my home,
The cries of babies stains my mind.
I'm trying my best,
But of course from day to day hour to hour,
I find myself crying.
Memories that morning come to me every day,
Nurses surrounding me my doctor getting on her knees,
Her head looking down,
The thoughts that ran through my mind.
My life entering a new course,
One full of grieving.
He had my face,
My son, my beautiful angel.
He's watching me now,
He left me in tears but he is in my heart.
Copyright © Royal Ninja | Year Posted 2013
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
I do not always stay on top of the mountain
The room is empty, tears produce no sound
The silence answered with deep thoughts
Grief feels like to drown in the depths of darkness
In my quietest and lonely moments
As the black chords in a sad play
- Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
- Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
Laughter drifts through the house, ....it has been such a while
Debate filters in, from the kids in the kitchen
The rafters are rattled with two strong opinions
Girls against boys, with opposing positions
I've watched them shuffle their cards and argue who won,
They seem to be lost, in the light masquerade,
of bittersweet happiness that is dim from the gray
Dipping their chips into onion laced cream
smacking their lips, and drinking their cokes
They are betting a few of the red plastic discs,
that will ante' this round
...I listen, and smile, it's a beautiful sound, ...
So long overdue,.......
we are embracing the mood... and it is time that we do....
Now a new game ensues.....
Monopoly, perhaps? Or charades, they will play
Whatever it is, ........ let it fill up the day
Let it take them away,....away from the gray
I let up the shade
to watch the evening come in, bringing umber and rust,
as earth swallows dusk, which is fading away
From the living room window, I am hoping to see
geese flying back to their warm winter homes
All nature seems normal, routine, once again
Winter is coming and a new year begins
How will it be now, this journey, untried,?
As we move on, wearing smiles, wearing grief on our sleeves
Smiles, for awhile, hiding anguish, and pride
Cold days are arriving......and there is talk on the hill
where tall pine trees are whispering,
reminding the creek, and the ash trees are shedding
and katydids will not call out condolences in the dark
Soon enough, when the lark sings, wet grass will need tending
stacks of shutters will need painting,
and snow will yet need to be pushed aside
How will they cope..?
He's not here to do it...but somehow we hope
they will wade their way through it..
But for now , at a kitchen table
for these brief moments, they are able
to laugh, argue, and have fun...
Someone shouts out, "I won!"..
Joy is hard work...but it needs to be done
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
Trying to get myself together,
I book my dentist appointment.
In the waiting room I sit.
Finally, they call me,
I sit on the all familiar dentist chair.
Looking up, the light shines on my eyes,
Giving my headache advancement,
I close my eyes.
Suddenly they speak of cavities.
“Would you like to get fillings today?” they ask.
Sure, I thought aloud.
They numb my mouth,
Nothing I felt, they asked me one more question.
“Would you like the gas to feel more comfortable?”
“Yes please”, I replied.
Next thing you know I am gazing off,
It leads to my mind wondering, I feel strange.
Images of all my emotions pop up,
They start to seem more real.
I am off into a deep sleep,
Me sitting in a chair carrying my son,
He opened his longing eyes,
My heart felt the joy of this dream.
I was rocking him so peacefully,
My little angel came to me in a deep sleep.
I wake from the drilling of my teeth feeling at peace,
The dentist told me of how peaceful I seemed,
Moreover, of how tired I must have been that I fallen asleep.
No idea they had of how restless I was,
Nor that I am a grieving mother who had just lost a piece of her heart.
I did not expect to had left the dentist feeling happy,
I had a vision a created memory that put me at peace.
Crazy you might think but I look forward to my next dentist appointment.
~My son Bael forever in my heart and if I’m lucky in my dreams he will visit me~
Copyright © Royal Ninja | Year Posted 2013
Legs that can’t fly
Heart that can’t love
Kisses under go a rye
I am blind
Only seeing within the past lens
Only holding on to memories
That wont last
Your sweet smile fades away
As I whispered in my deepest of dreams
Now I live inside insane mad thoughts
You have moved on
I am not longer in your way
My love lingered
No more can I sway
I have lost directions
Flowers never come in May
Waves’ roll to shore
Angels play in the tempest sea
They know not love was not for me
Blankets keep the royal lovers warm
I left to winters charm
Coldness is my home
Chilled thoughts haunt my very bones
Broken and all alone
Battles yet fought
Over me grave
Besot, tears still drop
Poetic flowers bloom
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
She was killed in an accident … they couldn’t save her
Hit and run that’s what Daddy says
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
She died from her injuries
The doctors did an operation and saved me
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
Daddy shows me lots of photographs of her
He says that I am beautiful like she was
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
Every day Daddy takes me to visit Mummy
He said she is asleep with the angels
I wish I could cuddle Mummy in her bed
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
Words Drowned in tears contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
America the Free ~ America the Brave ~
Freedom with price Capitalism attacked
the many taken hearts broken still
one World try to rebuild
sadness and tears fall hard with fears
guilt by association many accused still
souls evaporated shattered dreams
tears fall on innocence left with anger
The proud fearless knew the inevitable
policeman fireman many lives lost
grieving does not stop 12 years later
New York city once proud & shameless
refusing to let fears in protecting ours
left in shock still question's unanswered
nothing learned nothing gained
ready to attack many left behind
anger greets denial anger meets rage
unacceptable still refusing new love
wanting days to rewind let us go back in time
acceptance allowing the victims leave in peace
the brave taken young leaving us sadly old
haunting dreams lost spirits dwell
no answers to hate never forgetting that day
Evil entered suddenly unforgiving fate
entering our City we stand with the fallen
How to fix how do we Change
This can be read many different ways ~ This is a poem I am so proud to write ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Grief is not something we “get through”…
you “get through” a bad day
Grief is not something we “get over”,
“you ”get over” a cold”
Grief is not something we “move on from”
you “move on from” a bad relationship”
But Grief is… a companion we “move forward with”,
learning from and growing, with each agonizing step.
Grief is… a heart-wrenching process, not bound by time,
But sets us on a “lifelong journey” of finding truth and meaning…
Grief is not a crutch we hold onto for pity
It is not a lack in character
It is not a weakness that needs to be strengthened
Or a problem that needs fixing
It is not an enemy to be slain
Or like a wild animal, to be caged
Grief is… “A METAMORPHOSIS OF HUMAN LIFE”
YES! that needs “time”… “A LIFETIME”
Grief is… an acknowledgement of true love shared
and true love lost
Grief is… a love we hold so deep within our souls
That our tears fall to caress the pain…
“God given tears”, full of purpose and meaning
For each one carries with it a piece of our heart
grief hugs us and holds us close
to a great love we can no longer touch…
grief is… our friend for without it
our lives would have been a lie.
Grief is…purely and simply a journey of love
It is a friend, to those of us who mourn
A friend who sees what we need and allows us to be us
Grief is a release of unimaginable pain…
a release of a great indescribable loss…
Grief is… the bridge that crosses repentant oceans,
spans desolate canyons, and fear filled mountain tops.
that we may cross over this tragedy to a renewed heart
by means of the love we shared and continue to share
through the love of our Almighty God
A pain we can use, to broaden our hearts
and the hearts of all those around us
it is… a road we must travel to gain wisdom.
A level of wisdom you will never achieve by playing strong.
For only when we sink to the bottomless pit of grief
Will we be awakened by the light of truth.
Do not judge it… for it contains Gods secrets
Secrets you can only hear by listening
through the blare of the pain.
It is a sacred contract to be in awe of and inspired by
To learn from and grow from
To gain compassion and understanding from
It is a journey that holds a sacred contract
That will be signed by each and every one of us
Who has the strength… and the courage…
to love with all your heart and all your soul.
It is not a journey I would wish on anyone
But now that I am here I will walk it with honor
And purpose, with my head held high and my feet in stride
For at the end of this road there you’ll be,
waiting to take me home.
Copyright © Bernard Colasurdo | Year Posted 2013
When the blackest nightmares were realized
and bitter truth pierced cracked, brittle armor
When candles of last hope flickered and faded
and darkness closed on the edge of vision
When despair careened towards insanity
and aching fists and fingers began to slip
When the abyss called, a mighty hand reached
and lifted me silent to higher ground
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2012
Long ago when I was a child my sister died,
Everyday in grandmas arms I cried and cried;
Time ticked and grandma left and I had to say goodbye,
Then when my baby boy was born and he never saw the sky.
Inside I dwelled, asking God why, a reason I wanted to know,
Nothing anyone said reached me, then slowly, slowly I had to let it go;
Getting on with my life and one snowy day my love crashed his car,
Gone from this world, deep inside I existed, my soul travelling so far;
Oh soon I knew that I had to let the pain go, but forever I will kept he scar.
My mom and dad held me close and protected me,
Beautiful love allowed me again to let it all go away;
Writing poetry and penning my sorrow was the key,
Suddenly my dad died, and mom left sadly one day.
the path is lonely
that leads me to her stone name-
mother I let go
April 2, 2016
Acrostic, Quatrain, Senyru
For the contest, Letting Go,
sponsor, Laura Loo
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016
The hideous and the humble
Blood peppers falling snow
As world hurtles to the tipping point
Life chokes on ignited air
Wrenching love from hungry mouths
Stars fall without sound
Some weep helpless, day through night
Ever wondering how
Never knowing why ...
Copyright © Patricia L Graham | Year Posted 2014
Moonless Nights over South Sudan
heartless Moon, don’t tell me
that you weren’t looking
when soulless soldiers dragged me
from my mama’s terrified arms
in our village in Rubkona County
I know you covered your ears
so you wouldn’t hear
my screams piercing the fetid air
as those butchers dropped their pants
repeatedly ripping my body and soul apart
and I saw you cover your eyes
so blinded that you wouldn’t see
the stark horror reflected in my own eyes
the hot tears scorching my cheeks
sobbing for childhood forever lost
oh Mother Moon, Mother Moon
please cover your face
behind billowy black clouds
so that you can’t see
your daughter’s dejected, dead eyes
cowardly Moon, I forgive you
even after you turned your back on me
filling my days only with your dark side
as I sink deeper into a black hole
with no hope to guide me safely home
but helpless Moon, how can I blame you?
for you’re only a mere observer
powerless to defend me
feeling guilty for abandoning
your innocent children
Moon, you’ve witnessed it all before
the torn and bleeding
the tortured and maimed
all tied tightly to weeping trees
reeking of despair and pain
Moon, will you soon forget
my body dripping with bloody shame?
will anyone even remember me?
am I no one…with no name?
will you, Moon, mourn for me?
like you Moon, I am already ancient
over a hundred years it seems
yearning for freedom…
waiting for death…
and I’m only twelve years old
Note: This piece is dedicated to all the women and young girls who have been abducted, raped, and/or killed in the secret rape camps in South Sudan over the past two years. According to a human rights investigator, many of them are held indefinitely, tied up with hundreds of other women in these camps and used as sex slaves. Those women who escape from the sex camps are the lucky ones.
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2015
Why is it that pressure feels so heavy?
When pressure isn't solid.
Why is it that tears of anger hurt more?
When anger isn't sorrow.
Why is it that life is a challenge?
Life should be a gift.
Why is it that car was there?
In that right place. At the wrong time.
Why must I live my days in memory?
Ten years still don't block that moment.
Why can't I be stronger?
Make you proud of me. I know you're watching.
Why is it that you didn't look the same?
In that bed. In the hospital.
Why did I hug that woman?
The one who hit you. She brought a plant.
Why did I say 'She'll be okay.'?
I hoped. Knew it wasn't somehow.
Why did it have to happen right after our phone call?
Two more seconds you'd still be here.
Why are we left with all these questions?
Spoken out into empty air.
Why am I still here?
There must be something I'm meant to do.
Copyright © Sam Beloved | Year Posted 2014
My thoughts let go of a thousand memories,
Like faces, dates, times and places;
Yet, I can easily recall each and every detail,
On the day of your funeral.
O the grieving . . .
In the middle of a snow storm I followed,
And the wind blew back my long hair;
As we meandered down a winding cold path,
The wild storm paused in the trees.
O the weeping . . .
Snowflakes fell on me from the tangled branches,
Falling like crying tears cascading down;
I am lost and moaning in this forever, ever memory,
And now the snow drifts in the cemetery.
O the sadness . . .
A headstone is buried deep in the pure white,
And but one engraved word is revealed;
In this pristine cold, dead winter wonderland,
Only one word can be seen, mother.
O the lamenting . . .
Hidden beneath the snow . . .
I will treasure your arms last embrace mother
Till this heart stops beating . . . .
September 24, 2014
Written by Broken Wings
Entered into the contest, A poem not entered in a contest, sponsor, Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2014
It was such a small thing
It happens all the time
Fathers and sons disagree
Fathers and sons argue
Fathers and sons say things
Things they don't really mean...
We exchanged words
Harsh words over nothing, nothing at all
Childish words over petty differences
Angry words which are critical
so critical now to recall and to relive
over and over again…
You were ready to drop the matter
You were ready to relent and apologize
I was not ready to drop the matter
I was not ready to relent and apologize
You were the adult, I was the child
I reversed the roles, you reversed them back
You wanted to relent. I refused to relent
I refused and let you walk out that door
Yes, I let you walk out that door
That front door, that door to forever
the last time I didn't say goodbye to you
the last time I didn't say I love you
the last time I saw you
the last time I saw you alive…
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015
Anger flies with swift wings
As tedious pleas for more time reverberate through his mind
He is the servant of Time- yet takes the blame
When her clawed hand unwinds the clock
He, the sovereign of the dark, the one and only truth!
Is at the front of the onslaught of screams
He moves soundlessly, a shadow in the world
Tormented whispers scattering around him
Fear spreading wildfires' shrill promise
Mercy, a withering carcass in a crude burial
He became Hope's last regret
When he became the prince of darkness,
Forgoing all he once was, and all he could have been
When he sailed away from home, his love for Time burned
He had loved her, caressing her supple frame
Faithfully staying by her side,
And Time managed to wrap her cruel talons
Around his frozen heart
Dwindling him down to nothing more, than abject self-loathing
And she trapped him within her bondage, for eternity
Now he wanders, over and over again in his servitude
A trapped guardian of the dark
The fog horn groaned its complaint of “too.late”
Under darkened sea that once birthed horizon
And Hark! a maelstrom of black ink
Behold its terrific evil and terror!
A swirling whirlpool announcing you-have-been-fooled
And the cries of fright forever ruled
Scream in delight—“He suffers our fate…in pain we celebrate!”
He no longer looked along the swirls in terror
But was now part of its ferocious cycle
Tears mixing with the agonizing laughter
Amidst salty moans and tepid sweat
Soon… exhausted by the chaos… he sank into a most foggy pit
Ashamed, naked, barren of all past wit
A cowardly frame, shivering in unknown terrain
Inside a place where Time is gone….
But always looming in the brain….
As the errant fogs lift,
The grizzled trees’ feet curl in sensuous fervor of the cold
He envies e’en the trees, with heartless relish of their misty exhalations
Under shuttery breath he no longer truly breathes, … he sighs…
Might I never reach the heights of even the mel-lowed fog?
Shall I burn upon the dead leaves, rising only to fall?
From that day forward,
He wandered blindly
Both loving and loathing pulsing tempos of silence
“I’m still in love…” He whispers softly. “Oh how I am in love…”
The dark that once befriended him almost smiles now…
…then why do I feel so alone?
The wind blows in almost an unnerving jeer
A cool wisp enunciating Time’s uncouth rejection
For she loved no one, yet all
Loving with a cruel wish to watch the other fall
How many has she taken, he would never know
For in shadow comes confusion and woe
—and the voices he hears do not sound of his kind
But who am I? What am I?
A slave in Time’s forever grind…
A very special collaboration with Rebecca Larkin
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
Walls Make Bad Neighbours
‘All in all we are just bricks in the wall’ deconstructed by Pink Floyd
when they called for a truly kind compassionate reflective society and
~ Education ~
Of John Lennon we may think that he was ‘a dreamer but not the only
one’ to 'give peace a chance' while discounting violent revolution in
~ Resistance ~
Wolf Biermann sees his father’s grave every time smoke ascends from
some industrious chimneys of so many concentrated crimes against
~ Humanity ~
‘What will the neighbours say’ goes to my parent’s generation when
they continued to live the secret of why they colluded with fascism and
~ Genocide ~
Karl Marx clearly saw the alienation of humanity and that ‘knowledge without
action’ was a false shallow unfinished philosophy and empty
~ Promise ~
The Scorpions called for ‘winds of change’ but are they a-changing here and today
while most of us sit on fat gluttonous bums or size zero buttocks of
~ Delusion ~
The fake golden staircase leads from Zeppelin to Zeppelin with hot air
between the sheets of so called progress on eves wasted droned into
~ Oblivion ~
Nena’s ‘red balloons’ popped out of nowhere but into nothing’s blip of
conscience forsaken Nirvana and waning sound bites of candles extinguished by
~ Destruction ~
If we want to surpass the walls of our prisons we might want to consider
removing that one brick at a time that barricades and constricts our quest for
~ Liberation ~
The freedom of justice and the freedom from the walls in our minds as our
children will lay cries of despair at our door with only us to blame in
~ Shame ~
We are the guardians of posterity but which side of the fence are we
sitting on in our greed racism intolerance xenophobia and egotistic
~ Denial ~
When we sow winds we will reap storms and the flood gates will open
yet transformation makes better neighbours and better companions than
~ Walls ~
15th November 2016
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016
So professional in his lies - So ruthless in his ambition
Feeding lies to the simple folk - convincing in his deception
Telling them they live on toxic farm land - succeeds in striking fear
Cutting ties they sob in sorrow - selling up farmland they hold dear
His visions now come to fruition he's the land owner for miles around
Success surpasses his wildest dreams and exuberance exceeds all bounds
Amazed at peoples gullibility of seeing things in black and white
To his personal sins of omission he’s dispassionate in his sight
An affluent developer now more ill-gotten gains then he’s ever dreamed
Blinded to his own appalling self-deception - so steeped in what he’s schemed
No compunction or scruples - not one bit - despair and heartbreak left in his wake
Let the ignorant be blissfully blind in their slumber - best not to awake
In his haste to erect complexes cheap materials he substitutes
Waterways became fast dumping grounds which he so stealthily pollutes
Disregard of public health - quick profits so enticing within his reach
Indifferent to the major far reaching consequences of his breach
For many long years living the shallow life of Carpe diem excites
Till one day to the bafflement of all sickness in the town strikes
The most vulnerable of them the children the first to get ill
Professionals get summoned and asked the causes and will it kill?
He looks to the skies, resolve of the issue seeks heavenly help.
But the lie that he has so blatantly spread has manifested itself
The toxicity is in the water - results of the tests come back to haunt
Karma has a way of working in circles and returning to taunt
Overnight he is a ruined man worried people flee in droves
Bad news has a way of travelling fast as awareness grows
At his shame people scornfully laugh no matter where he goes
Looking to the Universe - in desperation he implores
It speaks to him in soulful whispers to make Right a Wrong
Enthusiasm at first to do so dies before too long
To go out in all humbleness and preach elicits doubt
Tortured fears of inadequacy germinate and sprout
His own fears his incompetence returns in falling tears
A difference he could make by standing up to his fears
Baring his soul can he reveal the folly of his life?
But his courage deserts him - as for resolve - it takes flight
Past youthful dreams and hopes like recurring tunes maddeningly play
Lies of yesterday ricochet - becoming his life’s regret today
Magnitude of taking innocent lives is now his daily burden
Now he faces his ultimate challenge before the final curtain
One last thing before he dies perhaps a truthful book he will write
Of his mistakes accept blame and confess to show he is contrite
Perhaps through his repentance consolation to his soul will give
Deaths parting gift to humanity be absolved as they live and forgive
Synopsis of Song ‘I Started A Joke’:
Written by Barry, Robin and Maurice Gibb the song is supposedly about someone who has done or said something horribly wrong, which results in feelings of social alienation. Robin Gibb talked in 2009 about "I Started a Joke". The listeners have to interpret it themselves, trying to explain it would detract from the song" The hauntingly beautiful melody brings the ballad up to one of the top 2 or 3 songs that the Bee Gees have ever written.
Above example for ‘I Started a Joke Contest’
POTD 21 November 2017
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017
I push open the creaking iron gate
and follow a winding road that leads me to you;
The wind has taken my hair and is pushing me forward,
as burnt orange and yellow leaves are whirling.
The air is cool as it whispers in the ancient trees
and roses are decaying on the graves as I pass.
I can hear my own breathing- in this silent dead place
then, I am standing at your engraved stone.
I did not bring you flowers on this cold day
as my forever love is all that I have to give you.
My darling, not a single day do I not ask why, why
why- all I can leave are my tears . . .
May 19, 2017
Free Verse/I Leave You My Tears
Copyright Protected, ID 902773
25 Lines Contest
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2017
How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them it's the end?
How can you possibly do that without shedding tears?
Or even blinking?
Do you not feel it? That pain, that pain that's taking over
Their soul, as you tell them their life is ending?
Or maybe it's just that you have lost your own soul?
In that instant when you found out that the greatest part of yourself
Is about to disappear,
That its light was about to be permanently extinguished.
Can't you feel it? That sorrow that slowly shutters their hearts?
Or the fear that's taking over their minds? it's a furious fire,
Cutting off any glimpse of hope with its smog,
That fear, its suffocating their soul into its last gasp.
Can't you see it? How that laughter ends sharply, in pain?
How it breaks in half every time, never to relapse into its fullness?
How the darkness stealthily takes over those, once life-filled, eyes?
That following calm,
It's the call of darkness,
Smoothly enchanting their soul into submissiveness.
Until all is in deadly silence,
Their bodies still, their souls forever gone into unknown.
Do your tears come then? Do you feel their pain then?
Do you see it? Or do you stay the same?
Unchanged, unemotional, shell shocked,
And forever unbelieving still?
Copyright © Alina Councilman | Year Posted 2013
That childhood faith, vehemently spirited,
Difficult to bend, impossible to tame.
That still-cradled heart, curiously open,
Eschewing fear, shunning struggle,
Accepting of each coming day.
The journey so hazardous.
Now a cold-forged and unyielding heart
Beats out each agonizing minute.
Jared by indolence and disappointment,
Vision unrecognizably scarred.
The journey so quickly done.
Needing to chance upon that child again
To lightly touch the angel's brow.
Copyright © Charles Hamouth | Year Posted 2015
When You're Gone
My darling precious Mamacita
before you go,
before your last breath is drawn,
I just want you to know
how much I love you so.
Please forgive everything
your errant child has done wrong,
and all the times I disappointed
and let you down.
It's so hard to let you go,
my Rock of Gibraltar, my strength,
my brave warrior and defender,
my trustworthy confidante,
even though your time has come
and the Great Spirit calls you home.
Forgive my selfishness,
my beautiful, brave one,
for I do know you are tired,
your mission here is done,
and you seek eternal rest.
But I don’t want to miss you,
the sound of your melodious voice
singing old Spanish love songs,
your loving smile, and your wavy,
snowy white hair reflecting the
venerable sage that you are.
What am I going to do, Mamacita?
What am I going to do without you?
Without your unconditional love and support
which keep me afloat
when life tries to pull me down?
Not even my tears that overflow
like a river swollen with grief
can ease the pain of the
motherless child I will be
solitary on a sea of sorrow.
A big part of my heart
drifts away with you,
my lifeline, best friend, and hero.
Yes, I know you have to go; but
I wish you didn’t have to leave me,
my darling precious Mamacita.
* Sadly my Mother passed away two days (on February 12, 2017) after this piece was posted.
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2017