Best Affliction Poems | Poetry

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A Moveable Affliction by Black, Robert
Deep Affliction by Nguyen, Nick
Affliction Ii by Joshua, Adeyemi
Affliction by Breedt, Jannie
The Invisible Affliction by Crisci, Andrew
My Cursed Self-Affliction by Lane, Lin
Higher Affliction by Loo, Laura
Furnace of Affliction by McCutcheon, Charlene
The Torment Of Her Affliction by Peranteau, JoanMarie
Affliction of Addiction by Townsend, Ty
Affliction by Dee, Laura
Affliction of Assyria by wesley, elizabeth
Affliction by Kaur, Harpreet
Affliction by Fard, Bj
Affliction by Cee, Elai
Love Affliction by Allen, Skyy
What is my affliction by Dorr, Peter
Affliction by Merryman, Kim
Blamin' My Affliction by The Rogue Rhymer, Natalie

View all new Affliction Poems

The Best Affliction Poems

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Her Requiem

Within her frail shell, death abides through the final hours, I remain by her side fearing a forsaken place of webs that lie in rows of haggard fields where everything forbidden grows surrounded by caverns of mortal's deserted bones she faintly whispered, "I want to go home" Death awakens the wandering soul, affliction steps away vanishing through corridors numbered by years of pain yet, illuminates all delightful wanderings in between eternity tugs at her robe to calm the heavy laden breaths into softer mournful moans, she'll acquiesce Within a midst of welcoming hosts rapt in lucent haze, hallowed air transcends her delicate last breath, then earthly slumber ends her requiem, immersed through immortal gates never to be cast into a cold stone grave
Karen Anglesey 4/29/13

Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013

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I have a pain so profound that I cannot name it.
I try to ignore it, but I’m forced to claim it.
It’s a gut wrenching sorrow that only grows
An affliction that absolute misery knows
There’s dejection in every breath that I take
And torment controls every move that I make
Love has abandoned me and pulverized my heart
Faith has done nothing but tear me apart.
My spirit is faded and my soul has turned bleak
I am forsaken by God and all that I seek
Despair has taken over my wretched being,
And blessings are something I’m not believing
My essence is distressed by everything that is
I’m demagnetized by all that the universe gives
It’s an existence of oppression on every plane
Like being institutionalized when you’re not insane
It’s a anguish so powerful my whole body will cry
A ruthless torture that begs my very being to die.

Inspired by Rokeyai Hassen's (It Feels) Like: This Too Shall Pass (Now on PoetrySoup)

Copyright © Kim Hilliker | Year Posted 2010

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Shades of Poe , Speaketh

Shades of Poe , Speaketh

Shades of Poe oft run in my veins
dark, dirty little splashing stains
No Raven stirs my battered heart
nor any signs on my astrology chart

Dark mysteries seep in at night
shadowed beings birthing fright
Muffled sounds sent to alarm
evil crying to scare and harm

Then my soul cries out to Poe
help me now , for you must know
Remedy for this sad affliction
a spell to give quick eviction

Reply creeps slowly back to me
close your eyes to sadly see
Darkness that drives men mad
such my heart and soul once had

No cure can by me be so gifted
you need Light to be so uplifted
My words are my aid little as is
answer you seek can only be His
Son of Light only can save you
my darkness left me only that clue!

Robert J. Lindley  10-12-2014

note:  Tis' the month the Dark spreads 
its evil mists to kids tucked in beds,
scary voices crying muffled shouts,
battles and shadowed little bouts,
goblins, ghouls and witches now abound
imagine such and they are then found!

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

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Feeling Blue And Knotted Up

Listen to poem:
in the fervour of my sweat sheets drenched i wake to the toxic bellow of my own voice in the torment of my own thoughts in the complexity of my simple life i lay eyes swollen wide open in the measure of hours set aside for sleep overwhelmed by recent events i struggle with the haunting of their potential outcome in the exaggeration of my emotional outpour i bleed tears dry to the air of the night i shrivel like a plum under light so this is what it is like to be a prey to grief an abhorrent internal pain i forget its feel when it is gone i remember its feed when it is here bent out of sorts barely able to walk i return to the inferno of my now quiet i keep my affliction private and unassuming Feb 28 2016 armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016

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Heat Source Hunger

Wonder not
if my thoughts are thrilled and twisted
daily and deeply by the albums of your ways,
I succumb severely to the impulse of imminent interplay
so dumb with joy, grateful for the fusion of our fevers,
I've never let you leave my mind,
you haven't finished eating your portion of my heart,
there is so much more for you, still in my chest, on my eyes,

I am your rare happiness,
that bare beast of a woman's best distress,
trigger your storm sirens with a single drop of Goodbye,
serve you with the most sensational sadness,
replenish your youth with an admiration that won't die,
knowing that I am not a makeshift man, nor a loyalty within a lie,
that I'll punish your pulse with peppered pleasure
because I can, because I must,
pull your hair just to hear those breaths beg for big flares,
treat the smooth and sweet lascerations of love's lament
butterfly cut into the surface of a girl's search for sincerity,
we get intoxicated on performance of personality,
buzzed beautifully from believing in the addiction of adoration's affliction,

We know we can handle one another's hurt
as warriors bleed hard because they sell themselves the sacrafice,
that we can process history with humor by breaking the shame of blame,
synthesize epiphany with sympathy to nourish symphonies of Divinity
we realize that intensity is the regal implement of our tournament, 

I like it when you tell me the tough truths,
that you want to be loved for more than one reason,
that being respected in segments isn't enough,
that he will never be me,
that words can outlast the disappointment of distance,
that the world overwhelms you when you most expect,
that sometimes you'd rather be a heart attack
before being a pretty song or a favorite memory,
I understand your need for absolute affection, absolute attention,
lets allow our love to be confusing, dazzling, on the verge of villainy, 
it isn't steady as a sleeping heart beat
or ready for celebration like a " gee wiz " graduation,
it is our Love, and its undefinably volatile and lovely,

Your cosmos gives a question that feeds one answer,
that love is ours, safe in the arms Armageddon, 
I remember the ember of our future
spazing on the hearth of fresh earth,
don't ever miss me Babe, just keep lovin me -


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

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The Old man of Merces1

The Old man of Merces  

His wrinkled face bearing slaps of time
His eyes barren like a desert starved of rain
Glittering they must be during his prime
Crumbling body holding spirit in chain

His trembling hands resting on knees
Sinking and floating in thoughts deep 
Oblivious of dry leaves falling of trees
Looking exhausted from lack of sleep

Unloved by loved ones abandoned by friends
His profile silhouetted like a ship aground
Tired of beleaguered life’s twists and bends
Wishing his soul ascended the chariot Heaven-bound

A loveless life senseless for him
Agony and heartache ceaseless for him
The society appears as heartless for him
A longer living meaningless for him

My heart urged to stop by and greet
His souring thoughts from confines of chest release
The man with love and compassion treat
But alas my tongue isn’t Portuguese

Each day in the morning cold
The snow-haired I found, resting on a boulder
Wearing a coat lusterless and old
With the muffler around neck hanging over shoulder

After absence of few months as I return
I find him no more on the boulder dozed
Like boiling waters in vapor turn
Seeing everything with eyes closed

With spirit in bondage and soul in chain
The picture of despair in a society blind
The symbol of affliction, anguish and pain
The venerable old man I failed to find
 1 A small town in Sintra District in Portugal


Copyright © Mohammad Yamin | Year Posted 2010

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(Message of hope dedicated to all those that have been through such an excruciating experience.)

Unbearable solitude,
When you are present, Time immobile 
Each second an eternity of intolerable 
Suffering becomes 

At such moments,
We implore Time to advance,
To accelerate his pace
To hurry up
The next second to come
The next minute 
The next hour
The next day 
So as 
The pain to decrease
Our agony to lessen
And us to be liberated from distress
From our affliction and from 
Our ordeal
But Time – a sadist- unmoved stays 
Mocking us 
Instead of picking up speed he 
Is dragging his leaden feet, enjoying thus himself with
Our perpetual torture,
Hence we,
Disappointed by Time's unhurried stance,
Absorbed by his immobility, 
Let ourselves sink deeper and deeper into our hopelessness,
Till we reach the deepest point of 
Our being,
A place void of all thoughts, 
Of absolute silence and of intense 

We wish to shout
To scream
To yell 
To howl 
No voice is possible to be heard 
No-one is there to listen to our call of distress 
And then
In the darkest hour of solitude, 
At the culminating point of desolation,
When we thought all is lost, we realize to our surprise, that
We are not alone,
A tenant is there with us, 
A tenant, beyond the limits of ourselves,
Of our understanding,
Of our awareness,  
A tenant who looks at us with affection
With compassion and most of all 
With love,
Unconditional love, 
True Love,
Yes, it is HIM
The ONE and ONLY
HE who was there before us 
Will be here into eternity 
After we are gone: GOD HIMSELF!

We look at His Holy visage and we discern an 
Apologetic expression for 
Having put us through this tribulation so as to be able to make
HIS presence to us known!
He had tried before to approach us on
Many occasions 
During the period of our good fortune,
Of our successes and of our achievements
We had ignored HIS calls at that time,
You see, we didn’t need any help then 
We thought everything was our doing
Under our firm control 
That we were INVINCIBLE!

© Demetrios Trifiatis
      13 JUNE 2013

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2013

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The Dark Side of You

I could not write poetry
till I was brain damaged
a life of shame, abuse
no good to anyone, oh yes and of no use
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Memories dreams are of that time,
many a mile we accomplished
amongst the grey stones
the bricks the muck
hiding behind the dark side of you.

I use to spend many hours
just looking for inspiration at the sky the ocean,
hear the rushing water
and in simplicity feel the gentle rain
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Why oh why should I wear this affliction
I’ve been many things in my life
that, which never stops creaking
lives here in one’s head
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Yesterday’s events were so different
penetrated my head my heart my soul
regarding earth’s greatest feats,
mainly war and of its dead
hiding behind the dark side of you.

The media’s strength used by the subtle
Oh! The mind control
tuned to sporadic applause
swells admiration for their efforts
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Truth complemented occasionally
then smashed into smithereens,
the pieces in abundance 
having lived a life of torment
hiding behind the dark side of you.

Oh Soup!  Quiet haven away from it all
aids to adorn my memories, just,
love, one hears and reads about every single day
helps no doubt this victim of society’s goals
hiding behind the dark side of you.

© Harry J Horsman 2013   

Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2013

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The Loneliest Teardrop

The life we choose the choices we make
Knowing how much to give knowing how much to take

Now this equation is not simple at least not for me to ascribe
For a lifetime worth of pain and not once have I cried

It's not remedies or reason for this affliction which I seek
For I am pleased with the joys I have given while not needing to weep

Yet I cant help but wonder though as yet I have not tried
Would my life had been much different were I able to cry

For I have seen the results of tears when they are freely shed
How embraces would soon follow with soft strokes to ones head

Now I can love and be tender without much effort or strain
Yet I am unable to give comfort when tears fall like the rain
But I will always be loving and Gods gifts to me I will share
And maybe the day I meet him in heaven will be the day I shed my tear

Copyright © Michael Plantamura | Year Posted 2007

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You Can't Hurt Me

Resounding echoes awaken the child
demons in the attic beckon unto him
stark fear grips his Vick's laden chest
shivers vibrate rusty springs of down

footsteps creak closer upon loose floorboards
while steamed filled pipes play taps
a somber teddybear snarls
causing the world to be still

foolish nuns, God doesn't want to "get me"

the sting of a ruler splinters a left hand
blood spurts upon faces of laughter
evil little boy too wicked for a mother
affliction runs in the family

Florence became flop because she always fell
polio never whipped her ass
just abused her now and then
she healed with a smile

Even humility has its price

Jimmy Dean wore sunglasses
maybe his eyes were bloodshot
or maybe he was a child of an alcoholic
and they became part of his attire

degenerate eye disease, masturbation
spattering or battering
does it really matter when you can't see
or understand the difference between ADD and ADHD

Psych 101: Crack can be Prozac

Iron gates surround a new residence
protecting the innocent who peer from outside
rehabilitation means refining bad habits
like those on the outside who have mastered them

twelve years of bars and games people play
provide an education unto itself
seclusion can be the deciding factor
between murder or suicide

self righteous judges choose life

recidivism is a revolving door
of vicious cycles with no engines
only propellers called co-dependants
or co-defendants, take your pick

life repeats itself over and over
only the circumstances change
yet the merry-go-round stops
when the flowers are arranged

Why are most tombstones gray

scared, afraid to die
are you saved?
from what, ourselves
you can't hurt me

Bob Shank-Nov. 30th, 2006

Copyright © Bob shank | Year Posted 2006

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Suddenly the sweetness around the moon!
Set an open fire with magic into my heart.
A campfire burning deep within.
Found a way to kick start my heart again.
Flowing with flowers in the midnight skies.
Feelings of butterflies passing right before my eyes.
A basket of ribbons turning my stomach into knots.
Gave me pleasure to know life's hidden thoughts...

A sweet spell to your compel....
Fell in to my laps like the secret of forbidden lust......
Dreaming that captivate the energy of me and you....
lost inside the demons,, no one can trust.....

Suddenly my heart turned into rust!
Now I sink like yesterdays fallen star.
Singing words that sadden my soul to the floor.
Lost into the darkness, hiding in the corner of my room.
Denying the faces of reality.
Forgetting about the pleasure of my own sensuality.
A desire to reject my own dignity.
Stuck with the affliction that life has no meaning.

A sour taste to the rotten words I curse....
I fell  into the wishing well of an evil spell....
Dreams that put my heart to sleep with out thirst....
Found the angles, that released my curse....


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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The impediment of speech leads to the dark impression of illiteracy,
The hindrance of thoughtful analysis prevents interpretation,
The ending of a race results in a successor and a flop.

The faltering under pressure easy to see,
The indecisive gabbling of the pessimistic selecting the wrong option,
The melancholic remembrance of the dead uttering a teardrop.

Abc what?

A bursting crescendo descending effectively fast,
Gathering huge introductions jittering,
Known legibly by the men noting the ovation.

People's questioning resulting staccato,
Terminating undoubted virility,
With xylophones zig-zagging. 


Alas, await the affable adolescent,
Allowing the arrant abbot’s arrest,
For his absolute atrocities adequate to abort a girl’s animation.

His absent awareness for the assurance of the au pair,
Ascending to the auspicious affliction,
Aimed at the apprehensive aunt.

At last at the advice of the aide,
The adversity and anguish abandoned his apperception,
After an age of aligning to adherence. 

Copyright © Henry Stride | Year Posted 2011

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A World on Fire

We live today in a world of great tumult
And of rising uncertainty and anxiety 
Which pervade the world stage like a cancer

Despite soaring technological advances
Our environment and our home Earth
Are bearing an unimaginable burden

People are wondering what must be done
To right these wrongs and adjust our course
Before we turn the corner to “No Return”

Tyranny, Poverty, Disease, and War 
Are still with us today since the beginning
Of time and are mankind’s greatest shame

God may be with us intellectually
But mankind must be self-reliant
To survive an inattentive, distant deity

People see answers to these enigmas
Sounds are made, echoes are heard
But nothing comes back in response

Frustration reigns supreme for many 
Fear and anxiety multiple all concerns
There can never be easy answers


Tyranny still reigns alive in many countries
As the actions of tin-eared dictators abound
And are on ample display for all to see 

Poverty is still a shameful, terrible curse
Which afflicts the most unfortunate
And is paid lip service by the wealthy

Disease is a scourge still in our world
And still felt by those most in need
And never enough is done to change this

War is the ultimate insult to mankind
And its wide-felt swath and affliction
Plagues yet our modern, enlightened world 

What to make of all these challenges
Is not easy for any of us to digest
And let alone understand why

Yet understand, comprehend we must
If we want a better world for all to live in
A Sisyphean task at its very best

Man still holds the key to make change
Positive and real for our troubled Earth
But can it ever be really so in the end

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
Schoeningen, Germany (October 16, 2014) 
(Tercet unrhymed poetic format)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

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Just Around The Corner

Maybe the most deadly disease is just around our corner
Carried to our doorstep by an unsuspected foreigner
Ebola is lethal with a fatality rate that is extremely high
If infected you have a 70% probability that you will die
Incubation period can span from one to forty two days
If stricken, severe flu like symptoms will leave you in a daze
Most symptoms will appear 8 to 10 days after exposure
Bleeding from extremities will have you praying for closure

There is no cure, a strong immune system is your best defense
Why there is still air travel from Africa truly makes no sense
Predicted cases to be about 1.4 million by January next year
An epidemic like we never seen is upon us, that is very clear

If this dreadful virus makes it to your corner. beware!
If stricken with this affliction be diligent not to share
If this disease become airborne, many millions will succumb
Our world will be left in disarray and left feeling utterly numb


*WHO changed the incubation period from 21 up to 42 days, be safe everyone.

Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2014

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Affliction of Assyria

The sun had grown dark on that fearful day
When Rabshakah, the Assyrian entered the fray;
Their armor and weapons glittered like gold
As they surged ’cross the plains to storm Israel’s fold.

But Hezekiah the king sought the Lord in prayer
To beseech God Almighty, His mercy to share;
The Lord would respond, then gave His command
To smite the Assyrian and deliver the land.

The Assyrian hordes were filled with flawed pride
Their faith in false gods, their treacherous guide;
They mounted their horses to charge for the gain
In their lust for the power that would end in pain

For the angel of death smote Sennacherib’s camp
And the fires of war were put out like a lamp;
The fields of green grass were transformed to a flood
That flowed on the ground as rivers of blood.

The legions lay dead with their eyes opened wide
And the host of their horses lay dead at their side;
The wind stole their cry from the pride of their breath
And gave its revenge in the silence of death.

The sons and the wives in their sorrow now weep
For the sickle of death had a harvest to reap;
The battle was won by the grace of the Lord
Who humbles the proud with the truth of His Word.

Isaiah 36 and 37

Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2014

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Misunderstood, trapped and rarely
considered an equal; confusion
dominates many faces that try to
comprehend my broken voice.
No-one seems to recognise my
body language and unusual hand movements.
Wrong conclusions are drawn towards
my level of intelligence; many view me
like a lost child desperate to be one with
its mother.
I may speak the English language but
it appears broken; my voice is thus 
lost, like a treasured belonging long 
been misplaced somewhere unknown.
My hearing remains but I speak like
a deaf person; hand gestures are made
to try to convey my thoughts and emotions,
sadly, hardly anyone has learned how to
interpret someone like myself.
I am voiceless and thus I seem not to
belong in this world of fragmented images
of what is deemed normal.
Regardless of my affliction I remain as 
whole as I can possibly be.

Copyright © Leighann Anderson | Year Posted 2011

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Affliction of Addiction

The feeling of a mind in a constant rotation 
Regardless, the effect is a sensation 
Erratic thoughts and a foggy haze 
Trapped within an infernal maze 
At a balance to fully exist 
I’m an emotional masochist 
My addictions will cause me to drown 
Tip-toe between being heaven or hell bound 
It’s easier to cease the pain with a pill 
A quick way out- Maybe I will 
It’s the ease of mind that I crave 
To my addictions I am a slave 
For they know I enjoy the pleasure 
I keep them because only them I treasure 
I fear no troubles for they are with me 
They open my eyes for me to see 
The fact of knowing I am sick 
The realization I’m ok with it 

Copyright © Ty Townsend | Year Posted 2015

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White wolf, I bleed for you

Once upon a time
Distant memories 
Dawning of morning crystals
Glittering reminder of starlight tears
In sunbeam's brilliance
Lighting jewels shine
Songbirds break into chorus
The smallest fragment of a breeze alerts
The senses whistling
Melodies explode
Through the branches leaves lament
Observing nature's space hold in colors
Fruit of tenderness
Mellow your sunshine
Blossoms love supreme touching
Fingers raise deep golden feelings yearning
Addresses one's heart
Lonely dust remains
Breathing breathless light explores
In darkness echoes bounce off deep caverns
Cold howling shivers
Devouring warm blood
Into the bones whistling ice
Winds voice of the lost souls' eyes turn bright green
As the spirit leaves
Dark moldy shadows
Light of moon sources cravings
Beauties kiss eclipses rose bleeds scarlet
Immortal heartbeats
Life stops ticking bang
Seduced black velvet pleasure
Sinking fangs into the succumbing heart
Drum beats slow echo
Fallen unchained truths
Slithering lizards crawling
Underneath the skin a beastly vision
Storm roars through timbers
Translucent blood slime
Flowing toxic energy
Mutating hollers screech into wolf moon
Scalding hot flames breathe
When red embers burn
Into the lustful ashes
Born inside scarred remains breathing wounds
An itch that scratches
Onto the mindset
Greenish cornea expands
Opening curtains in a split second
Haunting prey on light
Affliction of need
Rasping rattle in the throat
Death yowls airless scream without sun visions

A Collaborated Poem with Liam McDaid and Angeline Lim

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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You look at me and see a northeast highway after winter
Cracked, worn, roughened by conditions not meant to be endured.
I was once the most beautiful cobblestone pathway through a garden of ripe, unpicked fruit.
I was the apple whose sweet center no man could resist tasting
But you see affliction where held addiction.

You think my mind feeble, that thoughts slip through my brain
Like water through a child's fingers in a sudsy, post-playtime bath.
But I was once the network that ran every station in the steel-girded high rise
And ran the split level in the suburbs. I never needed to reboot.
A victim of time, still in her prime.

I look in the mirror and don't understand who that old woman is who gapes back.
I have long blonde tresses and eyes that rival Liz Taylor on her best day.
This, this is a shadow -- a black and white picture version of a colorful scene.
Inside I am 25, still as vibrant as the peacock whose feathers once graced my favorite hat.
I'm a tomb . . . of an ancient bloom.
                                                                        February 14,2016.

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2016

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It Must Be So

Sooth this irrational rage resplendent in its affliction
See through the foolish drawls that make up my surrounding core
Understand I see each flaw of mine in light of your brilliance
Not to compare yours to my worth as wretches do thrash in vain,
But to mold along your own tapestries,
And rightfully, in threads of gold, sustain 

Oh, can it be as I request your stay,
That you are truly aware of the magic in your poetic sway
Of a life so drawn to the scaffolds of your welcoming mind
To see its dream, structure, and its whole, combined

It must be so, oh enthralling writer,
That we see through lenses reflecting all shimmers of might
Sifting and searching beneath all shades of blue
To find our reflections have touched surfaces we still yet discover
Within myself and you

And my love, it must be so,
That in your makings, your labors, your loves
I find myself not only nearer, but clearer,
As this budding rose no longer wavers in irksome winds of her doubt
Tremoring in such loathsome drawls birthed by some distant, parched earth
You, in your magic, cultivate and reward such growth
So that this rose ever rejoices her new mirth,
And with your sure, steadfast direction,
Out the very canals that gush your soul’s purpose
You seed her worth, feed her worth, and know her worth
Just as she worships yours

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

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The Door

Noah’s ark was real not a fiction
It had a door to escape God’s affliction
Noah delivered a warning message
But the folks mock their own presage

Men grew in sin and matured in transgression
And ignored Noah’s loving confession
The Door stood open a long time
Until time begin to climb

The Lord finally shut the Door
And the rain begin to pour
120 years of grace finally came to a halt
God administered judgment by default

The Door was a glorious type of Christ
He was the Lamb of God who was price
Jesus said “I am the Door of the sheep”
He is the only Door of that Great ship

Jesus is our Door of salvation
Wherein we enter and float as new creation
Behold He stands at your door this day and knock
Let Him in, you’ll find pasture as a partaker of His Holy flock

Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep- John 10:7

Copyright © Gideon Foli | Year Posted 2013

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PDA: the next slam

Never again will you send my friend a frown
you will be shot down and you won't wear the crown
I as a doctor myself am ashamed to be in your presence
as far a the destroyer she is the pure slam essence 
I am just a boy with the power of millions
you can't break anyone down with your billions 
you don't see that your slams are not well written 
and the only thing we get is nothing far from bitten
so Doc are you ready to pay all the fines?
because in the end I write the last slam line

back up the boat
you'll never cross my moat
my archers are in place
all aimed at your face
if you need me I'll be here
sharpening my sword's steel
waiting for an actual challenge
worth the fight and the balance 
get back up or walk away
but in the end, I must say:

my personal display of affliction 
isn't countered by your decision

Copyright © Ryan Emerald | Year Posted 2010

Details | Affliction Poem | Create an image from this poem.

I Am Your Truth

I Am Your Truth

In life we seek but rarely find 
the salve to sooth the soul and mind.
Affliction felt since early youth.
We learn to survive accepting pain
that comes and goes like falling rain.
Absolute - I am your truth.

You can rock with me.
You can roll with me.
Touch the depths inside your soul with me,
for I belong to only you.
You can ride with me.
You can hide with me.
Cross the boundaries of your skies with me.
Absolute - I am your truth.

I will build your house as I shatter your walls.
I'll heal your wounds though I caused your falls.
With all my hurt comes all my help.
As you choke yourself on a taste so sweet.
Addictions in your life you seek.
Absolute - I am your truth.

You can drown with me,
wear your crown with me,
in righteousness or sorrow deep.
All your secrets I will keep with me
As you cling to my sting
you will weep with me.
Absolute - I am your truth

You'll make your way through the life you choose.
In all you'll find and all you'll lose,
from brightest days to blackest nights.
You were born with me.
You will die with me.
In a grave, so still, you will lie with me.
Absolute - I am your truth.

                           -Jeannie Minor

Copyright © Jeannie Minor | Year Posted 2015

Details | Affliction Poem | Create an image from this poem.


Bless me
with the fluency of fury
and the articulate voice of anger.
Spare me though,
of its affliction of aggression.

Let my pen paint
the reflection of my thoughts 
like a mirror.
Thus my lines become
clones of my imaginations.

Let creativity be 
the stubborn shadow
of my verses
and let not inspiration
fly out of my window.

Copyright © jide badmus | Year Posted 2008

Details | Affliction Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Piano Practice

Each piano note 
Played skillfully with soothe hands 
No need for tension . . . 
It can heal the soul
The heart that's dying to ex-
Press those precious chords 
Piano Practice - 
Repairing my unstable 
Thoughts of distress...leading me to my ruins...
I have not achieved any success - drowning in my sins
I can't practice alone...
Teach me how to play elegantly 
Help me to translate my inspiration into piano compositions...
That would be genius...that would be incredible
The world needs music to repair its broken society
Piano playing is so moving and therapeutic 
Free us from solitude's captivity!
Stimulate us with mesmeric music, 
We need it so desperately! 
I refuse to be stuck in place without music, making me dance merrily!
Each piano note 
Was played pleasurably with gentle and articulate hands 
No need for tension . . . 
Don't make us feel apprehension!
Don't mention the sorrows and burdens of yesterday...
I pray...I want you to ascend this sun-shining day!
I pray that I see you spread 
Your velvet wings and fly today 
Without a trace of dread!
Get a heads start! Play those chords of bliss!
You are a waterfall of wonderfulness.... 
It can heal the can mend a broken heart as well
The heart that's dying to ex-
Press those precious chords...
Is your motivation a heaven or a hell?
Piano Practice - 
Repairing my unstable 
Thoughts of loneliness...
I can't practice alone...
Teach me how to play elegantly 
Piano Practice - 
Repairing my unstable 
Thoughts of woeful affliction and discouragement...leading me to my ruins...
I have not achieved any success - drowning in my sins
I can't practice alone...I must play a song with you
Teach me how to play elegantly and so true
Teach me how to be as talented as you . . . . 
Embrace me with affectionate passion
You don't know how you make me feel - mere satisfaction
Let me be your page-turner and take action!
I'll take action to help you play so flawlessly and wondrously - the audience is smiling and closing their eyes with gratification! ~

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2014