The years have gone by
The scars never healed,
You still think you won
The fight on the field
Laughing and smiling
As I hit the ground,
With your fist in the air
I will not forget that sound
You beat me, bruised me
Hit my every nerve,
Now I hear you have gotten
Just what you deserve
To this day, I am grateful
To have ever known you,
Otherwise I might have been
The greatest bully, too.
As we atone for blood we spilt,
we know we knew not then,
yet strangely we’re consumed by guilt,
weakening yen for zen.
Choosing to exchange roles,
relinquishing all goals,
we walk over hot coals.
We walk alone,
as we atone.
A forever lasting lullaby,
Sung by weeping angels.
I must atone my sins,
Alone.
Sunday morning up with the lark,
I went jogging in the park.
Suddenly I felt pain in my sides,
soon I started taking long strides.
I went to the doctor immediately,
I needed help desperately.
The doctor smiled and wrote me some tests.
Clinic visits I always detest.
The doctor told me I had crystals,
no not diamonds the oxalic one.
The doctor said wrly "don't worry my son."
"I can turn them into small pieces by surgical procedure",
the doctor said proudly giving my brain untimely seizures.
How was he going to break them small?
how were they going to pass?
Never could I imagine that such tiny stones could also harass.
Not all stones are diamonds,
some are kidney stones,
The pain these tiny crystals inflict can make you simply atone.
Passing these tiny stones was no easy task,
no better punishment for all my sins I could ever ask.
Finally the stones departed,
passing them was not for the softhearted.
Don't underestimate these tiny stones,
they can make grown ups moan.
Eat healthy ,stay fresh and take care of your each bone
and
please beware of the kidney stones.
Contest: Stones Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
And The Desperate Heart Seeks To Atone
there is an echo, down canyons of stone,
its sorrows beg relief,
yet the white clouds above,
each sings on all alone
and the desperate heart seeks to atone,
there lies regretful thoughts for ill winds blown
wherein no redemption,
no heartache grants reprieve
to squelch those bad seeds sown,
and bitter fruits born from the dark unknown,
there darkest of blights swells into decay,
its rot festering deep,
no salvation comes,
as bitter harvest stays
within Time's walls of foreboding delay,
there is an echo, down canyons of stone,
its sorrows beg relief,
yet the white clouds above,
each sings on all alone
and the desperate heart seeks to atone,
Robert J. Lindley, presented 7/19/2020
Rhyme, ( A thought, a view, a heartache deep born )
And The Desperate Heart Seeks To Atone
there is an echo, down canyons of stone,
its sorrows beg relief,
yet the white clouds above,
each sings on all alone
and the desperate heart seeks to atone,
there lies regretful thoughts for ill winds blown
wherein no redemption,
no heartache grants reprieve
to squelch those bad seeds sown,
and bitter fruits born from the dark unknown,
there darkest of blights swells into decay,
its rot festering deep,
no salvation comes,
as bitter harvest stays
within Time's walls of foreboding delay,
there is an echo, down canyons of stone,
its sorrows beg relief,
yet the white clouds above,
each sings on all alone
and the desperate heart seeks to atone,
Robert J. Lindley, 7-05-2020
Rhyme, ( A thought, a view, a heartache deep born )
It’s easy to judge another by color, size, speech
to file him away safely out of reach.
It’s easy to give thanks you’re not like him
whose chances for success you think are slim.
Some reach such a conclusion absent facts,
hence how they treat others is a falsity of acts.
We know nothing of another by looks alone,
for judgments so made we will have to atone.
There is a love in me that’s unknown,
like a seed
I’ve never sown
A life with miseries alone,
for a pain
I’d never groan(ed)
A heart that needs to atone,
for things
I’ve never known
A feeling of hopelessness,
for a life
I’d never own(ed)
Teardrop to the mortal bones,
climbs of sympathy to the immortal soul,
tormented by desires and anchored by divine wings.
its pieces scattered, scars and memories unfaded.
perceived, the Godly demeanour undoubted.
enigma, toiling to disfigure this nature.
beautiful portrays, the gentle soul of the Painter,
toiling to reveal this nature.
the preamble to the exit
what a questionable nature.
teeth grinding and shiver, the fusion of uncertainty and hope
what a waste of a beautiful life.
A train in the distance is saying goodbye
it whispers a sigh in my ear
It whistles its sadness, forlorn in the sky
it billows a soft, misty tear
The souls that it carries now travel afar
their destination unknown
I wonder, could this be how I will depart
when comes time to pass of my own
A peaceful transition, I think that would be
a journey not taken alone
A whistling reminder to those that remain
perhaps it’s time now to atone
A thimble full of joys
is all that It will take,
to carry me through a fire
unto a new days wake
As Pandora’s box was opened
a curious creature looked within,
her mother always warning
that her downfall would be sin
But here within this moment
of discovery past the veils,
it was the killer of the cat
that made this spirit fail
With no regrets in pockets
I fill them up with hope,
the love and gentle messages
are the lifelines used to cope
When pain is carving his name
in the marrow of my bones,
a joy of the world fires me
this mind turns to atone
Building with no blocks
till loving hands assist,
in glowing lights all over
my will to live persists
And when I start to pale
as I sometimes do,
turn to look inside me
and I open up the flue
Once the blaze is lit
that no man can extinguish,
a spirit sits beside me
in time I’ll not be vanquished
And reaching for the end
singing peace to all my days,
I will soldier on beside him
beneath my wake does blaze
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.