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A Nook And A Storybook

A Nook And A Story Book Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper

There was a day last week that I felt alone and sad,
   I carried days of grief and would pray for sweet dreams,
     I held onto a glimmer of hope when I had an idea,
       to get lost in my favorite book outside on the porch swing.

Sensuality of a solitary soul with desires of social freedom,
  pretty dear Edna lost inside a condemning creole heritage,
    although she loved the Gulf of Mexico and New Orleans,
     she had love affairs with charming men during her marriage.

Her appetite for passion wasn’t accepted in the nineteenth century,
   she craved lustful intimacy when it was strictly forbidden,
     Edna wanders around and finds herself within sexual promiscuity,
       in a small town news travels fast, even if she wanted it hidden.

Once wedded to the rich Leonce who traveled far too often,
  Edna yearned for the embrace of other appealing suitors,
    fantasizing beyond all common sense of comprehension,
       alas she was constantly damned by hypocritical persecutors.

Satisfactions and warm memories sooth her darkest nights,
   she thinks of her affair with Robert as she closes her eyes,
     so deeply did he love her, although she only craved his physique,
       she wore erotic moments on her back for a disguise.

Because of her rejection of the roles as a wife and mother,
   she was an outcast, a fading woman lost in fear and sorrow,
     no more love and lust to quench her deep thirst,
       she awakens…not wanting to face another tomorrow.

Drowning herself in the deep water of the Gulf of Mexico,
   released her from her miserable anguish she called home,
     no longer could another touch her the way she needed,
       she ended up living her last moments in despair while alone.

This poem is about the book "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin
The original name was "Solitary Soul"

Date Written: April 28, 2016

Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2016

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Run rabbit run

You walked those savage streets
Without a clue
Without a care
You could not see the dangers or sense that death was everywhere
Predators and prowlers...they all look for parts to play
They saw you as a playground
Your heart and soul would soon to pay
Big wide smiles they turned to frowns as they took you to their traps
Those jokers and those jackyls they laughed loud inside your brain
Friendly faces they grew fangs
Helping hands grew iron claws
Loving eyes that showed compassion soon turned evil,cold,and hard
Angry arrows they shot at you
Bloody sickles they all swung
You woke up quick to wickedness
Run rabbit run

Hiding in a hole in a fortress made of fire
You dug yourself in deeper in the depths of dark despair
No one comes and no one cares
That became your new belief
A solitary soul...long lost love is what you seek
Broke down you had to build up from the ground of broken dreams
Emotions...fear and hatred...race like bullets in your brain
Burn the book and turn the page...a new chapter now unfolds
Time it ticks and time it tocks...shooting holes in the savage sun
Never turning back
Run rabbit run

Destiny day it finally came
Those desperadoes would surely meet their doom
Those streets that once betrayed you now become your battlefield
Break the're now a soldier
And there is no turning back
Because a brave man dies but once while a coward dies a thousand deaths
Evil ones and enemies...they surround you like a shell
Wicked wolves they all were snarling...soon in shock and sad surprise
Now the rabbit roars with laughter as he watches demons die
His weakness turns to strength
His ignorance into intelligence
Beware the beast is coming and his appearance is deceiving
With an appetite and a smoking gun
Run rabbit run

Copyright © Anthony Beesley | Year Posted 2014

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''Broken Wings''

Bird in a guilded cage, a broken heart, a solitary soul
Road less travelled, a soul full of longing, my heart bleeds
On a wing and a prayer, my heart is a lonely hunter, a weary soul
    Kiss the rose, look into my eyes
    Endless words, my heart laid bare
    No man is an island, tears fall like rain

        Words that were left unspoken, over and over again

It's never too late to change, wish upon a star
Near and dear to my heart, when all is said and done
Give it a whirl, as time passes by, my soul is weeping, weeping

    Stop and smell the roses, till the end of time

May 9, 2015



Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015

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The old oak tree

The old oak tree

A lonely old wooden swing 
Suspended in complete stillness
Gripped by ropes once white 
Now stained with memories of childhood
Frayed and worn
Two decades old
It hangs faithfully to the strong arms of the huge oak tree
Golden leaves hang off the dry deeply rippled branches
By the tiniest vein

Their yellow and brown comrades surround them
A gentle gust of wind sending them fluttering on their last flight
Through musky damp air down to wet ground below 
A dreaded smell of death for the non-deciduous trees
The lonely old wooden swing waits patiently and calm
Protected by its giant friend

Memories of swinging up into the air so high
Holding tightly onto thick white ropes 
My long blonde hair flowing behind
Laying back but holding on tight
Legs in, legs out
Eyes closed 
Swaying back and forth

It feels like flying
The air wafting over my happy face
Back and forth, back and forth
Standing up still swinging
On bended legs
Daring with no fear

Long blistering hot summers sitting cross legged 
Making daisy chains for my gran
Camps for the neighbours kids
With old sheets tied to the old oak tree
Telling ghost stories to each other

Plastic cups and saucers
Pretend tea and cakes
A British summer party 
Playing hide and seek within deep bushes
Our jungle to explore

Races on the lawn
The smell of freshly cut grass hanging in the air
My pretty red and white gingham dress
Stained with the debris, as were my hands
Nails as green as the Incredible Hulk
School holidays seemed to last forever

The lonely old wooden swing now sits dormant
Waiting patiently and calm
To be loved once more
Hear the laughter of children
And it will
Of that I am certain
As the wind blows the swing starts to move
Back and forth, back and forth 
Swaying slowly, a solitary soul
Demonstrating its approval
As I present my new born daughter
From her nursery window
To future adventures in her garden
The last leaf drops slowly to the earth

Copyright © Sarah Bryant | Year Posted 2015

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Divine Servant

With my attributes lessened
By those who need less
My efforts so invisible before your eyes
Likely to be provoked for my kindness
I am a divine servant
Serving from the core of my heart and soul
From the deepest depths of my devotions
To the highest heights of your desires
Highly dedicated
Bravely committed
Yet my compassion is so suffocated
How about a little humanity
A little consideration to my faithfulness
I am a solitary soul survivor
Striving for freedom
In the lands of servitude
Through the darkness and heavy storms
Where I learned not to suffer
But to dance in the rain
To feebly endure this heavily pain
Even though
My soul  is being crucified
For my morality
My heart is bleeding to death
So as my palms are wounded, yet
I’m still willing to give

Copyright © Molantwa Mmele | Year Posted 2015

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Remove the revenge...remove the rage...remove the revulsion that drives me insane
God,please take the thorns that bring peril and pain
Thorns of trauma and torment,terror and tears
God,hear my prayers and take those thorns made of fear

Thorns of trauma...young mind torn to shreds by schools and swarms of invisible pirahnas
Deathbeat dramas march like puppets and play inside my head,heart,and soul
Take these thorns from my side and send them all home

Thorns of torment...they twist and they taunt
They stalk and they hunt their prey in and out of season
With no rhyme and no reason
Just for the fun of setting fires
Making timebombs tick till they tock and explode
Take these thorns from my side and send them all home

Thorns of terror...I paint the planet black cause there's a monster in the mirror
thought crimes becoming clearer
I'm becoming what i like least...bad man to boomerang to brutal beast
It keeps coming around like an endless carousel
It doesn't kill me but only makes me stronger...length of pain is getting longer as I walk this world alone
Take these thorns from my side and send them all home

Thorns of tears...tearing through the fabric of time now crystalized and clear
Thoughts I've had and deeds I've done
Divinity dreams that turned to demon dust
Regrets and remorse push my buttons until I scream...standing the storm as a solitary soul
Take these thorns from my side and send them all home

I beg and I plea until I finally get an answer
God is smiling down on me still I'm bent like Charlie Manson
He pays the ransom and sets my soul free
But He doesn't take the thorns and it doesn't murder me
His grace is sufficient for the world and for me

Copyright © anthony beesley | Year Posted 2011

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Show Me Your Mask and Ill show you Mine

The mask's that unmask unbridled seems of gold
All wrapped in sullen shrouds of matted purple 
Manifest my dreams driven by engines with plumes of wantoned steam
Following the piston leader score there sleeves in disbelief
1, 2, 3, 4 mesmerized by the coal that glow morphing into embers
Till not a solitary soul can remember  


Copyright © Christopher Flaherty | Year Posted 2012

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Solid Gray Clouds

Solid gray clouds hover near here
Hidden by a thick misty fog
Quiet broken by birds' song dear
Who share limelight with tree frogs
Both now singing love's epilogue

A solitary soul upon the porch
Sun encased by clouds amassed
Songs of the Dove's from his perch
Cooo, cooo, cooo his song outlast
And the dept of the tune unsurpassed

Sponsor: Barbara Gorelick
Contest: Clouds 
English Quintain/ababb two stanzas
No specific meter

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2013

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Blinding Narcissism

An empty space
Something’s missing
Inside you
Incomplete creation
A solitary soul
Living to yourself
In your own world
Out of touch 
From those around you

Words have no impact
On one born without empathy
Leaving me destitute
Demanding sacrifices
Yet, unable to give of yourself
No reciprocation
Wasting no time on matters
That bear no benefit
To your selfish desires

Spoken words
Dry like the desert sands
Flat, no genuineness
Imitating emotions
That you will never feel
Because you are 
A broken, empty shell
Pretending to be human

Copyright © Courtney Dyer | Year Posted 2009

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Ole Farmers Journey

Twickenham's green mead is dank and gray
The sun behind the clouds has gone away
In the drying woods a solitary soul, O alone,
So alone, translate grief to incessant moan.
Nature shows its one with us, in all things
We suffer it shares and times our stings
And often sorrowing, but ah muted mouth
Of trees tell us then what mortality is about!

We were one hundred eighty strong to start
But some could not endure, the long shaping
That mettled a special breed, firmed the heart
Till we became comrades, dreamers hoping
To give our land a new birth and happiness.
Soon only a remnant was left for the process
And how played, fought, laughed, loved, ate
And thought we were captains of all our fate.

Perhaps some were, but some so soon, as dust
Would grow the visioned grain, and more the pain
For those died last, than when in youth's distrust
Some left to explore that other dimmer terrain
Here now in old age each passing friend assures
Us, time is slowly evening up the haunted scores
We grieve for this sense of lost, this vanity of life
This less than social ending of unfinished strife.

Yet something human in us grieve for human loss
Beyond the fathom of our ken, missing each friend,
Each classmate, each ole farmer from the grass -
Knowing not where or when each journey will end
O but Twickenham green mead do not cry, we hail
You immortal in the work you set us, our hopes prevail
That beyond the memories of our rustic days, again
We shall meet husbandmen of the bright celestial plain.

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

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Across a Darkening Sky

Ashen grey clouds in drift, across a darkening sky
A solitary soul stands whilst the ravens no longer fly
They settle on the gravestones, gathering in the trees
For soon they'll be summoned, ignoring the weakening pleas

The hooded figure signals, like thunder their wings flap
Arms now folded in stance as they gather for their attack
Amidst the greying sky flies an unkindness of black
For soon they'll release their anger, there will be no lack

Towards the town they head in stealthily gliding ease
Riding the storms thermals, being carried on it's breeze
An unsuspecting township oblivious in their surround
For soon in sporadic scatter amidst this black inbound

No religion colour or creed is spared their pecking beaks
For it's the blood of the human that desires their darkened seek
Lacerated weeping bodies in frenzied crimson run
Zig zagging like headless chickens, as to why this has begun

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2011

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' Worse Than Lonely '

There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
There’s A Hundred Things More, That Hurt
There’s A Million – Murder – Moments
And A Billion More Bubbles Bursts

But, There’s Nothing Here To Tell
And No Soul Here To See
Yet, There’s A Thousand Things More Tragic
Worse Than Being Lonely

There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
A Hundred Hammers Can Hit The Heart
There’s A Million Movies Watched Melancholy
And A Billion Bacalls and Bogarts

There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
 A Hundred Hollers That Can’t Be Hushed
There’s A Million – Messed-Up – Madnesses
And A Billion More Backstabs To Brush

There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
A Hundred Holes of UnHappiness
There’s A Million – Merciless Moments
Like A Billion Bags Of Bitterness

There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
Hundreds Harmed, More Than I Am
A Million – Misery Memories
Buts Like A Billion – Bloody – Battering Rams

Yes,  There’s A Thousand Things
Worse Than Lonely
Under The Setting Sun…
But When A Solitary Soul Misses Love
… Well …    I Can’t Think Of One …

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

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Hidden amongst the chaos
A solitary soul
Scarred from centuries traveled
With centuries more to go

Things beyond our normal
A thousand times she's seen
From worlds beyond mans vision
And more worlds in between

Touched by Natures mystery
Her depth she must perceive
To tap into her secrets
And see those worlds unweave

Though shunned by her Creator
And weary from her fight
She gathers up her Magick
And stands before the night

Copyright © Jeff Fletcher | Year Posted 2010

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My Roots

I hail from a bombed out sanctuary,
And  from the survivors of genocide
Who had the courage to run
Where none of my people had run before.
I hail from the underground safe haven,
Built by a laborer dubbed “unskilled” by the public.
From the haven that aided so many, then fell,
But with it’s chin held high
And it’s seeds planted deep in the earth.
So deep in fact,
That one day,
A solitary soul might look upon said haven and think
If only…

I hail from babies that cry in the night,
And from mothers,
Praying that the cries will not stop,
Not tonight…
I hail from the sweat on the brow,
Of a teenage farmer
As he grips his trusted shovel,
stares into the sun,
And tells himself
Just one more hour...

I hail from musicians in the dark,
And from the ebonies and ivories into which they poured their souls,
Filling a mold
That all descendants now fill as well.
I hail from the sweat of my people,
Gathering in puddles on the floor as they work to feed their families,
The air choked with the smell of Italian leather
Greased to perfection with the perspiration of the hardest workers
This world has ever seen.

I hail from the marriage of the secret gardener and the keeper of calendars,
From the brotherhood of the brain and the brawn.
But more than that,
I hail from efforts to make the world a better place,
One $3.50 cut at a time…

Copyright © Roltrot Diconline | Year Posted 2009

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A hug is left unfelt
A tear falls silently down
As the moon slowly fades
There is no one around

No one hears the wail
Of a solitary soul
As the night drifts endlessly
To pay a painful toll

A single tear brushed away
Like it never did exist
And hear the mournful wail
Oh why does it hurt like this

The solitary soul walks on
It follows a single path
Until from sheer exhaustion
It collapses unseen at last

No one sees the sadness
The pain is not felt
The tears are left to fall
The heart has begun to melt

Copyright © Jane Falzone | Year Posted 2006