A poem is just a teardrop
A form of liquid pain
Released to pen and paper
Our words become a stain
The hurt that's bottled up inside
Can come out through our eyes
Promises made, but never kept
Are nothing but liquid lies
As the teardrop hits the paper
The words begin to form
Releasing all the pain inside
To calm the coming storm
Heartache is just another word
That's written by our tears
The pain becomes the writer's quill
'Til a little relief appears
A poem is just a teardrop
That's worded carefully
Liquid pain becomes a stain
And sets the poet free
Copyright © Larry Belt | Year Posted 2010
She writes her songs and her poems,
not one person know 'em.
She listens to the sound of her music,
she's stuck to it like a tick.
If someone took the time to listen,
her true colors would glisten.
She's put on a mask,
and hid everything when someone asked.
She was the type of girl who would always laugh,
making you wish it would last.
She was the type of girl who would smile the day away,
too bad it is no longer that way.
She is now the girl who is depressed,
I bet you're impressed.
Since no one could tell
that she was going through hell.
Everyone thought she was happy,
when really, she felt crappy.
Everyone thought she was having the time of her life,
who would have guess her best friend was a knife?
She spent her days alone,
she seemed to do everything on her own.
Never once wanted help.
Thought she could do everything herself.
Then the day came,
when she lost the game.
She fell apart,
and everyone saw her broken heart.
They saw the way she overreacted.
Oh, if only you saw the way she acted.
She bruised herself, scratched herself, and made herself bleed,
no one knew what it was that she needed.
They saw her tears,
and that was what she feared.
They found out she wasn't okay,
oh, she hated that day.
Everyone found out about her secret,
and she wish they'd just forget,
but she knew they couldn't,
and that they wouldn't.
She left that town and started over,
no one knew she went undercover.
She said she got better,
when really... something else occurred.
She secretly hurt herself,
and walked away from help.
Everyone thought she recovered,
when really, she was undercover.
She secretly wanted to get worse,
no one knew of course.
No one cared to ask,
if she was wearing her mask.
Now it's too late,
she locked the gate.
everyone had forgotten she needed help.
Goodbye cold world,
this was a story of a girl
who once loved everyone
then feared who it was who won.
Copyright © Ana Jusino | Year Posted 2013
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.
Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.
Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
If I do not write
Will you forget I exist?
I’m more than my words
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
As I, sit here and I stare up at the night sky,
The cool air rushes past, and it's a moonless night
I listen to leaves bristle in the gusts of wind,
and the howling of the smooth air, and it's my friend
They say there's always a rainbow at the end of a storm,
well I'm still picking up the pieces while another storm is born
And while my last scar is healing, more of my skin is torn,
These last few months, I can't figure out what has been going on
So I, put these words together like it's gonna change anything,
If anything I'm doing nothing but hanging on to my dignity
I already lost my pride, I put it up on the shelf,
So that when you laugh at me, I laugh along, at myself
Cause nothing you can do can phase me, this life is a maze see
You just gotta stop by and take a glance to learn I'm amazing,
Because I made it here, without giving up,
and there's a long road ahead of me before I blow up
As my body deteriates, my soul is still alive
My mind is ahead of me, I'm living before my time
But in my mind, what I'm doing is right,
And I know I'm losing, but at least I'm putting up a fight
I'm scared off the odds, because the results could be drastic,
I'd rather hide my face, so like Halloween I mask it
And the mask fits, so I choose to wear it
Then like my face, the pain hides, and I can finally bare it
I just, roll along like everything is good,
knowing that I'm nothing, but I'm doing what I should
This depression is taking over, who would've known that it could
I need some shade for a while, so I slip inside of my hood
I try to, dream better dreams and live better days,
Knowing that the end of that road is miles away
There's no stop lights, just an on going road,
I've got no compass, my heart is tell me which way to go
Copyright © Aaron Guttery | Year Posted 2013
you won’t listen to me, so i write to you on my arms.
this one says i needed you and you weren’t there.
this one says i’m bleeding but you don’t care.
i wrote you this one out of despair,
seemed like you always had to be at some other somewhere,
and it hurts, because it’s me you’re dismissin’,
with no time to listen, just need your attention,
it’s your touch i’m missin’, look me in my eye,
i know you see my letters, so why don’t i get a reply?
i guess it’s worth it just to try,
to get you to notice me just one more time,
write you just one last line,
but i’m runnin’ out of time ‘cause i’m runnin’ out of ink,
needin’ more time to think,
but i don’t have it, so i sign my last letter and address it to you,
i hope this one gets through
Copyright © Erin Evans | Year Posted 2014
from my heart
echo the ache
you see in my eyes,
The indelible ink
of my invisible pen
are the stains of harrowing loss,
Yet, as they s p i l l from my steely quill,
they trace my e~t~h~e~r~e~a~l wings - I fly.
Copyright © Jo Daniel | Year Posted 2017
I'm very happy I found this site,
PoetrySoup.com is a lot of fun,
I spend so much time on the computer now
I have time for no other one...
It's a rush, a blast, a challenge...
I'll love it till I die...
Only one thing troubles me,
And that's the reason why..
I spend so much time hunched over,
typing in my silly poems,
Hoping that they'll soon be read
In many far off homes...
But I do appear to have a problem...
A physical one at that...
My neck is hurting so severely,
By hours looking down,
writing and reading..
In the spot I sat...
I gotta make a judgement call...
Is the fun worth more than the pain?
Compared to the fun I have, the pain begins to pall
Who would not prefer the sunshine to the rain??
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007
Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega
Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega
Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega
Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013
Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!
Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
How dare you take advantage of me like that ,
Leaving me stranded with no way to go forward or back.
Using the friendship that we had led me to believe,
That there was trust and honor between you and me .
How you layed me aside and left me for dead ,
You have caused these hateful thoughts inside my head.
Never could I have done this to any man ,
I can see you have no concious so I know you can.
There just one thing I really want to say about this ,
It's been a long time since I have made a clinched fist .
You have no idea how much hurt you have caused,
It won't be me you'll have to face That's up to God
But you will regret mistaking this kindness for weakness girl,
Bad Karma will surely consume you this is my word.
Yes you were able to catch me completely off gaurd ,
Never again because now I know who you are .
Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013
generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012
Stands, four players.
Quarrels of foul cries, collided.
Facing each nemesis into quadrants, divided.
Individuals motivated by objectives.
Devising plans, careful detectives.
Goal to achieve the highest rank, careful steps--discriminate.
Going by the hit-list, tunnel vision, hindrances must eliminate.
Scoping intensely, measuring opponents, methodical evaluation.
Staying alert, mind assessment, sedulous investigation.
Shrill of the first struck, the red bullet--bounces.
Instant reflex, ricochet the shot, violence--denounces.
The King may bend the rules, charges swift modification.
The Pawns are summoned, critical prosecution.
The Bishop prays for the suspects, classified praises, flattery denunciation.
The Queen cradles a heart, each beat rebounds, battery probation.
Copyright © Jesson Rata | Year Posted 2013
Like sick allergies,
Boredom can be passed around
I call it: THE BOREDOM DISEASE
Like a horrid storm,
Boredom can catch you off guard
Hold on for DEAR LIFE!
Like the whooping cough,
Boredom can be serious
If I were you, I’d
Get a vaccination !
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Roses in the garden,
Roses in the world,
But now roses curled...
Peach roses show modesty,
Peach roses show gratitude,
However, they are often insincere...
Yellow roses seem to care,
Yellow roses show friendship,
However, they are often joyless and jealous...
Pink roses communicate sweetness,
Pink roses radiate elegance,
However, they are often unthankful...
Orange roses have desire,
Orange roses show their pride,
However, they are often impassive...
Purple roses are majestic,
Purple roses express love at first sight,
However, they are often repulsed and unenchanted...
Green roses are harmonious,
Green roses carry hope,
However, they are often unpeaceful...
Blue roses like dreaming,
Blue roses are imaginative,
Blue roses desire to know the unknown,
Blue roses are mysterious,
However, they are often elusive and unattainable...
Red roses are emotional,
Red roses are devotional,
Red roses are respectful,
However, they are often remorseful, sorrowful and mistaken...
Gold roses are occassional,
Gold roses like memories,
Gold roses are preserved,
However, they are often misinterpreted and confused...
White roses are pure,
White roses have innocence,
White roses are spiritual,
White roses carry secrecy,
However, they are often arrogant...
Silver roses are rare,
Silver roses like to grow,
Silver roses convert fantasy into reality,
However, they are often lost and uneasy,
But they seem unpredictable and mystical...
Black roses are mysterious,
Black roses are rebirth,
However, they often remain elusive,
They often symbolize death and loss,
But they are unpredictable and silent,
Though, they are often harmed...
Roses in the garden,
Roses in the world,
But now roses swirled and twirled...
Although, now peach roses are lying,
Yellow roses turning jealous and browned,
Pink roses being unsweet and unthankful,
Orange roses being impulsive and compulsive,
Purple roses being repulsed and revulsed,
Green roses losing hope and harmony,
Blue roses being undiscovered and lost,
Red roses being regretful and voided,
Gold roses bewildered and confused,
White roses losing purity and innocence,
Silver roses turning black and unused,
And black roses silenced and unborn...
All there is to see are roses vanishing,
All there is to feel are roses withering,
In a bed of bleeding roses...
Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
A Dark Fairytale
As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened;
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind.
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours.
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you.
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.
Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2013
sad song emerges
heartache's beautiful phoenix
pain fuels creation
Copyright © Lynne Hanson | Year Posted 2014
Ones who wage,
Ones who rage,
Ones who take,
Ones who pay,
Ones who craze,
Ones who rave,
Ones who crave…
Ones who fear,
Ones who breathe,
Ones who give,
Ones who need,
Ones who will,
Ones who weave…
Ones who plead,
Ones who beg,
Ones who beseech,
Ones who entreat,
Ones who appeal,
Ones who volunteer,
Ones who disappear…
The ones who follow,
The ones that don’t know about tomorrow,
The ones who don’t deserve the morrow…
The ones who sleep,
The ones who cry,
The ones who live,
The ones who die…
The ones who proclaim,
Those who say they create,
The ones who ache,
The ones who don’t wait,
The ones who hesitate,
The ones who don’t concentrate,
The ones who fornicate,
The ones who procrastinate…
Those who fall in temptation,
Those who get in frustration,
Those who sometimes feel desperation,
Those who keep going without caution,
Those in motion,
Those in tension,
Those losing notion,
Those being poisoned,
Those getting in distortion,
Those following the broken diction,
Those dying like the billions,
Those without unction,
Those washed in the oceans…
I might seem cold,
But it is you who is bold.
I might not express,
But it is you who doesn’t let me progress.
I might not seem like I seek,
But it is you who doesn’t know me…
I might seem like I need,
But it is you who might always be begging on your knees.
I might seem dull,
But it is the one that is fool.
I might not be alight,
But it is you who isn’t truly alive…
I will remain neutral,
I will remain silver,
I will remain gray,
I feel darkness,
I feel light,
I will remain hallowed…,
After all, it is you who deserves no life…
I am a metal hawk,
I am a mountain goat,
I am a silver bird,
I am a gray wolf,
I am a white tiger,
I am a mystic rose…,
I am I…
And I survive,
You are here,
However, it is you who deserves no life…
Being human does not imply that you have humanity…
Copyright © Ruben Alejandro Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013
A Bluto is not that Disney dog
It was when a mewling
that I would scream
Should they wet my body
And then apply cream
Ablutophobia – fear of bathing, washing, or cleaning
Achluo the demon that lurks
In darkened corners
The long toothed life suckers realm
I am scared as the sun dims
It seems to bare my soul
Achluophobia – fear of darkness
Acro what did they do
They called me acrobat
This will not do
I get giddy standing on a matchbox
Please get a net to see me through
Acrophobia – fear of heights
Agora just shut that door
I am staying here forever more
Bring me food put it on the floor
The letter box is just for you
Don’t, Don’t, try to get through
Agoraphobia, Fear of open spaces or of being in public places. Fear of leaving a safe place
Agrap stole my feelings
He caught me unaware
I am now afraid of sex
don’t ask me anymore
It frightens me that’s for sure
Agraphobia – fear of sexual abuse
Agrizoo an angry gorilla I knew
Wild as hell was kept in a cell
As all his kind, even a timid Hind
They scare the crap out of me
Please let them run free
Agrizoophobia – fear of wild animals
A gyro is just what I need
I will fit it to my trusty stead
He will fly straight across that band
A tarmac nasty throughout the land
I cannot face the walk you see
Agyrophobia –fear of crossing the road
Aichmohe got in a hell of a fight
They killed him with a pointed knife
It will come for me just you see
I cannot even mend his cloth
Won’t touch a needle at any cost
Aichmophobia – fear of sharp or pointed objects (such as a needle or knife)
Ailuro he lived next door
The bastard sits on the fence
To me he snarls not a purr
A Persian he is supposed to be
Frightens the *****out of me
Ailurophobia – fear of cats
Algo, Away, I am pain free
This morphine is the best
First day of pain free rest
Been told that it will return
Got some gas, peace I yearn
Algophobia - fear of pain
Andro I’d rather be (android)
I am metal and plastic you see
Electric person not man or woman
That would be so sad
If just a man I would go mad
Androphobia – fear of men
Antho the pologist got the plan
He put concrete throughout the land.
Not one shrub or flower seen
Not one blade of grass green
A flower would make me scream
Anthophobia – fear of flowers
Anthropo was a lonely man
Wouldn’t mix with others so
He lived in a cave, well just a hole
You would see his eyes peeping out
A shaking frame if people were about
Anthropophobia – fear of people or the company of people, a form of social phobia.
Aqua marine or even the wet stuff
Is enough to drive me mad
I stay in when there is rain
Just wait for the sun to shine again
A damp tissue that’s quite enough
Aquaphobia – fear of water. Distinct from Hydrophobia, a scientific property that makes chemicals averse to interaction with water, as well as an archaic name for rabies
Arach no, and know the score
Those creepy creatures on the wall
Send shivers up and down my spine
Six legs and venom to drive you mad
I am running already it is sad.
Arachnophobia – fear of spiders
Astra my name you would think of the stars
My gaze goes up but not that far
To the first cloud there in the sky
If it’s the shape of an anvil I will fly
Fear grips me and I don’t know why
Astraphobia – fear of thunder and lightning
Atychi that was about the size of me
The others would just make fun
I was no good to anyone
A failure of the first degree
Nothing my goal, was all I could see
Atychiphobia – fear of failure
Auto matic I will seek people out
To touch to play as long as they are near
Don’t leave me in this place alone
A singularity is my biggest fear
I will hold anyone you see I care
Autophobia – fear of being alone or isolated
Automat o no it’s not true how could you
An advert that’s telling just lies
Don’t all the others realize
What you say is not true, put it right
It will drive me crazy I’ll keep out of sight
Automatonophobia – fear of anything that falsely represents a sentient being
Aviat o if you think I am going in that
No I am not a scared ***** cat
If we were meant to go fly
Wings we would have from him on high
Fold your machine and put it just so.
Aviophobia, Aviatophobia – fear of flying
Chaeto he was a Greek of old
Bald as a badger so the story is told
But why you say is there no cure
For him to grow some lovely hair
For him it would give such a scare
Chaetophobia – fear of hair
Chemo therapy keep away from me
Chemicals scare me I know they are free
But to have them coursing through my veins
No matter how good they are, and that jar
The fear of everything for what they are
Chemophobia – fear of chemicals
Chirop to or not too so I am told
They stick in your hair best to be bald
Now I find that my nails are made of hair
Chirop is what I fear not chiropodist is that clear!!
Just shave my head and cut my nails dear
Chiroptophobia – fear of bats
Chromo shines bright in my eyes
The fear of all colours I realise
Now I am safe from a troubled day
Into my dark room, I have found my way
Knock when that sun has met its demise
Chromophobia - fear of bright colors
Copyright © Ian Howard | Year Posted 2012
I stand solo, aloof in the snow, a precipitation
of words cascading from a nebulous eye
Fathoms wide, forever dripping like wax onto
a punctured paper serving a Sanskrit sky,
and spreading into sibilant sentences swiftly
sliding from syllable sorcery to soulful serenades
so silent in the shunting shout of white. Poetry
fills a churning void where novels cannot wade,
Phrases solidifying into idolisation of emotion
itself, isolation of the isometric individuality that so
Crushes my keeling cavern of thought, ever
careering from caustic career path to another new low,
Which so seems to crumble into crazy paving’s
counterpart. In this first freeze-frame we can all grasp
A fraction of the familiar, oh so fractured by the
fumbling nature of enforced form. Freed by the gasp
Of a photo-opportunity glowing phosphorescent
with firsts, I am no longer framed by the festering
Constraints of non-fiction, and folding my fond
farewells carefully, I hesitantly face a vision pestering
Me, fearing the fiend that would open maw and
gnaw beneath my feet, evoking an avalanche of the
Vernacular, but I am further past this unfed
existence now, loosened from the fickle friendship of a
Winter thaw. Focus not your gaze on the grinding
gauze of the greats, for the pressing pestilence of
Perishable poetry is elsewhere pondering its parallels
in posturing and post-modern pining for forlorn love.
Praise no other; I am poetry.
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Poetry writing isn't my expertise...
But I have learnt to write...
Writings that write out my pain...
Copyright © siow Aathaappa | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
He says he loves me then he says he loves me not
He loves me today but by tomorrow I'm forgot
He runs from my love but returns wanting more
I guess I'm to blame for letting the traveler explore,
See travellers just wander and are never here to stay
They admire the scenery and enjoy the display
They tour the land and ride the attractions
So memories become their only subtractions,
They search for an experience that is what they yearn
The condition once they leave is none of their concern!
So how can the land be devoted and true
When travellers come and go out of the blue.
The present is now and where he's travelled to,
But the past he calls home so he must return soon
Most likely just a visit although time can only tell,
But what he lusts is in this land and he knows it very well
He may call that place home but its this land that he seeks
Travellers on a mission never realize until they hit their peek
He continues to damage this land down to its core
So what's left to offer when their is nothing left in store?
The resources were depleted and the land left bare
He comes and goes as he pleases it doesn't seem fair;
See this land has been abused time and time again
Seeds that were planted, were means to an end
But pleasure and satisfaction was always accomplished
Because this land provided where the homeland was disadvantaged!
But despite the history and despite the trust
Submit to his urges is something he must.
So this time around his departure is permanent
Lack of faith and loyalty was the final determinant.
The damage he caused cannot be rendered,
So his visitation rights he has surrendered!
So leave this land I say and never look back
This is the path you chose I hope you can stay on track,
Cause travellers have memories of the lands they have stained
But the land only remembers the one that remained!
Copyright © Nicolette Holness | Year Posted 2013
I invite this pain,
Upon myself willingly;
Plunging a sharp sword each day,
Into my own heart,
You cannot see my deep wounds;
My own self-inflicted scars.
I pen my sad words,
From a damaged weeping place;
I send my poems on wings,
Written with my blood,
Swirling in the mighty wind,
Will they land in gentle hands.
January 20, 2016
For the contest, Self-Inflicted,
sponsor, Anthony Slausen
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.
As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.
I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.
I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.
And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.
And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.
He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.
And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.
Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.
She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.
I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.
I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.
The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.
Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;
But we still all cry,
Somber tears all fall in one big wave
crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
Some folk can’t stand the things I write
and say that all my work is trite.
It doesn’t fit their perfect view
of everything they know is true.
Forgive me if I do not care,
I've learned the pain it brings to share.
But pain is just a part of living
and won't deter what I am giving.
Join those who throw that fabled stone
for when we’re judged we stand alone.
You’ll never, ever close me down
for freedoms’ speech is worth your frown.
So play your games and say your worst
and do not let your bubble burst.
Believe in only what you know
and only reap the seeds ‘you’ sow.
If you don't like the things I say
the choice is yours to stay away.
But if you stay remember this
all that glistens is not bliss.
Ivor G Davies
Copyright © Ivor Davies | Year Posted 2015
I wake up with another tear
for I have again, relived the nightmare
will it ever leave me with any way to see
when will I again be able to see my family
the past is forgiven
so why is it still living
my heart was so broken
but soon after it was frozen
let it lie and the past die
for I have a life to live with
but the past is still being relived
how do I stop this past of torture
so I can find my new future
Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013
I am not sad!
While most of my poems may be SAD
They reflect the experiences that I’ve HAD
I promise you I am not MAD
In fact most days I feel GLAD
Whenever I do feel DOWN
Or sadness is AROUND
When pain and fear are ABOUND
I write to release my inner FROWN
My writing is the skeleton KEY
To all things that make me - ME
It opens the door and sets me FREE
To document my life’s JOURNEY
I write today to tell you SO
Just in case you did not KNOW
My memories are clear and PLAIN
On my journey there’s both joy and PAIN
SOME OF IT I JUST CAN’T EXPLAIN
SOME ANSWERS I MAY NEVER ASSERTAIN
Happy memories are all I SEE
When I reflect on my girls and ME
They fill my heart with such JUBILEE
And now my life has UNITY
Alaya and Saen adore me SO
I love them and this they KNOW
They repaired my heart and helped it GROW
In their eyes I see love’s GLOW
A love like theirs is INCOMPARABLE
This makes the pain of my past - BEARABLE
They fill my spirit with joy and GLEE
They are the reason I was meant to BE
Each and every day I PRAY
I look in the mirror and I SAY
Thank you lord for this DAY
Watch over my children as they PLAY
And please show me the WAY
To be a better person - TODAY
This eases the sadness in ME
So I can live and be HAPPY!
Copyright © Walayee Poet Lay Whitlock-Ishway | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
I need you
To clutch me tight and
Wipe my tears away.
‘I know it looks bad but it’ll get better’.
I need hope
To come along and
Recuse me from
Pit I recurrently fall into.
I need someone
To be there when
I have my blade.
‘Don’t damage your beauty’.
But you aren’t there.
You don’t listen;
Not to me.
I’m never there for you,
Shut me out.
As if I don’t care.
Like I’m not good enough.
Too pathetic; too worthless.
So no one takes
My blade from me.
And the angry lines slash
In every direction.
So there is a hopeless void
Inside of me,
That grows bigger
As you push me further away from you.
And I cry,
Every night I cry myself
To sleep. Focusing on beaten
Because without you there is no reason to go on.
Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
Copyright © Brian Otoole | Year Posted 2013