Best Coward Poems | Poetry
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New Coward Poems
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by Leign, Yzzy
by Donovan, William
by Sid, El
Hero and Coward
by Ochwo-Oburu, Solomon
Coward am I
by vaso, arthur
by Tortoza, Franchesca Mia
by Tyler, Ryan
you are being such a coward
by sage, white
The coward man is
by Taylor, Sean
by taylor, R. e.
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The Best Coward Poems
Silently he sat in darkness, flinching at the sight of light.
Which created a glow reflecting on his balding head.
His cold glare did not help my nerves,
so I simply stood there observing his silence.
His philosopher beard's tendrils seem to crawl forever,
some hidden behind his buckled knuckle hands.
Wizened victims of one too many a fist fight.
When you looked closer, they exposed branded tattoos,
a timeless reminder from his perturbed past.
He was a man whose ship had never sailed,
maybe too afraid to sink within uncharted waters.
Yet this pilgrim had walked many a path for several decades.
Burning many bridges along the way, until his feet became weary.
To many, he was an 'old dog' that should have been put down
a long time ago - yet he had never requested to live this long.
He didn't seem like a religious man, but he eagerly anticipated death.
An emphatic glance into his lackadaisical drowsy eyes,
revealed hidden sorrows built up through the generations.
Every wrinkle on his sullen face seemed to be an emblem of pain.
He looked tired, worn down by life and defeated by humanity.
A fighter who had fought and fallen many times,
but always returned to the ring. Begging to be punished.
His body had now become slender and emaciated,
it seemed a strong gust could blow it away.
It was evident he enjoyed to pretend, but I knew his game.
Especially when his idle facial impressions struggled with
the sound of bones creaking in sluggish movement.
He started to whistle a tune, it was familiar,
but I couldn't put a name to it.
As he rubbed his eyes, his cheeks crumpled.
A wry smile, crippled by decaying teeth appeared,
as his lethargic lips spoke with a burdened tone.
“Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once. Someone once said that boy! But, let me tell you, no matter how many times you toss that coin, it will never land on the same side."
A sardonic expression appeared on his face.
But, I could see he had a story to tell,
but his tongue seemed to refuse to dance
with the desires of his heart.
Silence was still my guide though,
but unsure if it was due to tact or fear.
I wanted to know about the wounds engraved on his heart,
and the agony ingrained in his soul.
Following a deep sigh, he began to speak, but now in a subtle tone.
I can't tell you about smiles,
but I sure can tell you about tears, boy.
They called me a coward, because I didn't go to war,
but I've been a prisoner of war all my life.
And I've had more blood on my hands,
than any 'son of a gun,' solider, boy.
Its always been me against the world,
to save myself I lived a life of manipulation,
but I never meant to hurt a soul,
unless they deserved it and too many did.
After a slight pause, his tone sounded more intense.
"I was born on a night when the heavens cried.
I've asked GOD, why did the angels hide when I arrived.
Instead he sent the grim reaper to take my mother.
I didn't even have a chance to feel her skin.
I've never been able to call anyone mother."
He was now staring at me, I could see the rage in his eyes,
so intimidating, I turned my head towards the floor.
His tone now fierce, I could feel his wrath.
"Life is full of second hand emotions, broken dreams,
forgotten promises and bleeding hearts!! Regretful memories,
of haunting ghosts, whose spirit voices torment my mind!!
And you want to hear something nostalgic, boy?
Try being beaten every day, for just existing!!
Try being seen as the cause of death!!
And then they wonder why..."
He wipes away intrinsic tears,
trembling, he lights up a cigarette.
"we done here boy"
and then the silence returned...
Walking away in somewhat of a daze,
instinctively I remembered the song;
Old man look at me now....
Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don't get lost.
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Rolling home to you.
1 November 2017
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty
But her obsidian eyes betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me,
and I knew…
Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?
She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other horny beasts with no spine
That throaty tenderness when she spoke
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says he loathed him, denied she loved him
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her
There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her,
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself
Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.
Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly
I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.
A certain stillness came about
as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....
Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her.
Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.
Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2014
“I am certain that I have been here as I am now a thousand times before and
I hope to return a thousand times after.” GOETHE
Once upon a time,
The Lord of spiritual consciousness was sitting peacefully on His blissful throne
Ceaselessly contemplating upon His equilibrium
T’ was the era of no moon, no sun, no stars, no earth, no oceans, no rivers
Just a motionless, timeless and deathless entity it was happy with His existence
Suddenly the thought of sacred motion was felt deep down in his essence
Seeking the chaos to be stirred from its core outwardly
Consequently separating the light from the darkness and all the other elements
That constitute the Cosmos
Thus giving birth immediately to old mighty time
When Time: This wizard of celestial art found himself alive
His expert hands stretched in advance, wanting to create
For that the plastic energy he took, that was everywhere around
And skillfully and patiently the Cosmos carved according to the Logos
Creating thus, the nebulae, the galaxies, the stars and all the other planets
Then God looked at times creation and marveled with its beauty
But as there was no life to be seen in all of this creation
The thought of desire was born in God to inhabit every place
For that out of himself he cut myriads blazing souls
Which like shooting stars he sent downwards to animate nature,
In this way, to manifestation’s cosmic sphere, the souls were beamed
Radiating their luminosity to reality’s lower planes
Bringing with them the sacred principles to denser forms of life
As they were passing from the spiritual, the mental and the astral
And finally materializing, themselves on the physical solid plane
Where life began on earth, with God’s will and grace!
Each soul an ambassador was and is of God’s will and grace
A ray of divinity, a guardian of the Holy Law
Each with a specific mission: to learn or rather to remember
How to find the way of return throughout space and time
And with the divine, again, to be seen in perfect equilibrium
The day I was born, as every man alive,
I found my immortal self bound to the wheel of time
That around eternity’s circumference took me, in very heavy chains
Asking to follow obediently the unswerving path of fate:
This endless trip of return where the only constant thing is change
Since then I have died once and many times after
But death's dark palaces to hold me were unable
As my soul’s perpetual desire to follow my destiny
Brought me back to this ephemeral world of fleeting dreams
With a new body, new hopes, new goals but always with the
Thus I journeyed back and forth the plains of oblivion
Choosing the best conditions I could, according to my karma
Trying to find endlessly the golden middle way
That unmistakably between the extremes is only to be found
But since from the river of forgetfulness each time I was drinking
I was obliged, unfortunately, to start over again
So, I was born once a king and another was I born a beggar
And in turns I was born a coward, a hero, a holy man, a vicious man,
A Christian, a Muslim, an atheist, an idolater a strong man and a woman
And healthy and sick I was born and intelligent and witless
And was I born to love so much the things I once detested
And to hate passionately the things I once held dear
And I was born once to laugh and another just to cry
And I drunk successively from joy’s cup and that of sorrow’s
And was born to make friends out of my enemies
And enemies out of my brothers
And was born to realize the impossible dreams and fail the very easy
And I was born to slay and to be slain alternatively for thousands of years
Thus I lived continuously the extremes of both good and evil
Striving to find endlessly the balance in my soul
Through the wisdom that was endowed upon me by the Great Spirit
That like a beacon, luminous, to guide me waits
To my supreme destiny that GOD for me has traced
So, as was passing from life unto death, from darkness unto light
With a speed determined by me, I don’t put on GOD the blame,
All my lessons have I learned through trial and error
Up to the very last reincarnation, in body’s mortal temple
Now free, AT LAST, from all earthly desires and every karmic blame
Radiating with holiness and glowing with grace
My immortal soul, HER divine wings unfolds and soars upwards the heavens
White light blazing in perfect equilibrium
And pure now to her glorious creator returns and with
11 DECEMBER 2013
“A little while and my longing shall gather dust and foam for another body.
A little while, a moment of rest upon the wind and another woman shall bear me”
* This poem because of its length I was unable to post it in one piece for I was not a
member for life at that time therefore I published it in two parts as: “CREATION” and as “REINCARNATION.” Here is the entire poem as it was originally written.
Now, my friends know that apart from my epigrams I write... long poems as well!
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2013
Many years ago
They stormed the Bastille
Two hundred and one lost their lives
The tennis court oath however survived
Jacques had his heart with the masses
Necker could not be dismissed so easily
The storming of the Bastille was to be
The birth of a nation for all men free
And free men they were
Running naked through the streets
What they lacked in cake
The made up with in red wine
The Republique was born
A democracy in infancy
Would grow through trials and tribulations
To become a multicultural great nation
Lone angry men filled with such hate
I welcome you to Bastilles’ gate
Of medieval prisons long ago
It is there, you I shall throw
You kill in the name of a God
A God you do not know
Love has escaped from your very soul
Only hate tarnishes your bitter heart
The ghosts of Bastille are mocking
The coward who is filled with such animosity
There never shall be an escape
The soul of the dead shall eternally taunt you
A criminal with no compassion
You have only given us our determination
To battle for the peace of this great nation
You bring us tears; alas we shall turn them to wine
Naked through the streets we shall always dance!
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
Oh, my brother..
I can see storms causing havoc in your eyes.
All you can do is stare,
seeking comfort from a tombstone.
Beautiful marble cannot reach out to you,
nor can it hold your hand.
Tell me who will wipe away those sympathetic tears?
For I have no sympathy for you.
I still remember happy tears
rolling down her face,
as the nurse placed you in her arms.
You were held so close,
as she kissed your tiny soft cheeks
to ease your cries.
Like every child,
before you called for God,
you called for your mother.
Yet, you abandoned her...
You won't remember,
but, You slept so comfortably,
oblivious to her pain, as you found solace.
You won't recall the sleepless nights,
the pangs of hunger, nor her broken heart.
As your father, a coward, walked away.
Not once did she fail to attend your needs.
When you were sick, she sat by your side,
soothing your infant cries.
Instead of crumbling, her spirit remained strong,
in the hope for a beautiful future for her son.
how everyday, she awaited your return,
cooked your favourite meals
and bought you clothes, she could not afford.
Whilst, I became invisible..
You had everything a child could need.
Through the years,
you never noticed her fatigued eyes,
nor her wrinkled hands,
tired from working so hard to provide for you.
You lived your life, without a care.
For everything you needed
was provided. Yet not once
did you listen to a word, she said.
You met a girl, became obsessed,
and wasted all of mother's savings.
Running after materialistic needs.
Fancy restaurants, exotic holidays,
you thought you were 'living the life.'
Not once did you remember mum,
ignoring her calls, rarely coming home.
But, still she waited in anticipation.
As you laughed, she cried;
as you danced, she sat worrying about you.
You got married.
Where was her invitation?
Were you ashamed?
Or did she have no money for you?
Your ignorance became your curse,
as you lost all respect.
But still it broke her heart.
Now you stand here,
staring at her name,
engraved on marble stone.
Your tears water flowers of regret.
muttering mother's lullabies,
as you call her name,
disguised under deep sighs..
Who will ask now:
"Son when are you coming home?"
Who will replace her scent?
Never will you taste food cooked
by such compassionate hands.
Never will you be able to see the love in her eyes.
Never will you feel the warmth of her arms,
nor the love of a mother's kiss.
Turn your head in shame
and walk away.
Mum is in heaven now,
free from your torment..
14 September 2017
Example for Poems that paint a picture 2
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
No one followed her as she ran away
fleeing from the altar on her wedding day
She’d been jilted by Jed her handsome groom
so locked herself away in an unused attic room
The bride’s father went after Jed with a gun
you should have seen the coward run!
The desperate search for Judy was in vain
She didn’t respond when they called her name
Folks assumed she didn’t want to hang around
Many years passed by and she was never found
The house was auctioned after her parent’s died
They were buried at the churchyard side by side
The new house owners were in for a terrible shock
When they ventured upstairs and unpicked the lock
They found Judy’s skeletal body in her dress of lace
Cobwebs hung like curtains from her once lovely face
Jed’s dust covered photo lay in her hand
Judy never got to wear her wedding band
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen
Each time I write of my crashed hopes and dreams
mind falls into black-depths, sends cold shivers.
Tempted to falsely praise my misdeeds and schemes
I return to my vow, embracing realm of true givers.
Such leaning towards positive and the good
once was abhorrent, not in my prideful style.
When lightning bolts struck me as they should
I found my life was a massive rubbish pile.
With pen and paper I then sought truth to tell
of life, love, loss and darkness once embraced.
O' yes, I did not hide my parades in hell
nor innocent young life I once so disgraced.
Years flew by and age gave its usual aches
far too oft, I swore to give my poetry up.
Darkness whispered, take well deserved breaks
porch lounge sit, empty thy hot coffee cup.
Ah, but my muse, she heard and was not amused
up she bolted, screaming like a raving banshee.
Reminded me of my past, my life I had so abused
what a coward I would be if I now sought to flee.
Pen in hand and regretful of my wasted past
I write to send some light and truth boldly tell.
Praying some good comes, a few words may last
redeem myself from youthful days dancing in hell.
( Seek to do good and watch as darkness flees )
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017
I am a coward with open sores.
I write and wonder who it bores.
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly.
I see others carrying out my dreams;
that’s what’s defeated me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way.
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say...
I worry the world will leave me.
I cry because no one believes in me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I understand nothing comes easy.
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me.
I dream I am healed and brave.
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave.
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours.
I am a coward with open sores.
© 2011 ~JSLaM
* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
Remembrance of guilt from pages turned brown,
Opened and read inside rooms of my mind.
Written through time with tears sliding down.
I will claim each dung lit cavern I find.
My yesterdays speak of a poignant time.
Holding the lies I practiced to deceive.
The changing poems, the flow of their rhyme.
Candles to melt in colors I'd conceive.
This game of hearts, this road to my sadness.
Finding false joy with a conqueror's schemes.
Endings included a heartfelt madness.
The dance always ended in broken dreams.
To be blind from the pain I could not see.
To read old poems, now scattered debris.
To read old poems, now scattered debris.
Drifting through time on a slow turning wheel.
Written secrets imblaze spokes that turn free.
And leave deep tracks the mind will not conceal.
The road is taken with its selfish means.
This journey is spent with a looking glass.
As death will befall this love that demeans.
To be a withering lonely morass.
How many pages of love never found?
This search to fill an emptiness from birth.
The staging, the set, the music, the sound.
Loneliness will attempt to value its worth.
The echo from time from each lover's frown.
Time fades and tears away from books thrown down.
Time fades and tears away from books thrown down.
Tossed in foul winds of yesterday's game.
Lovers as pawns in a silk flowing gown.
Faces flash by without anyone's name.
Empty memories now older and sane.
Covered in dirt from roads that were taken.
Understanding truth my mental disdain.
Unspoken the bond that was forsaken.
These ghosts from mists seem to always remain.
As my shadows haunt deep in the mind.
Never to be released from years of pain.
To steal the gifts from hearts when they were blind.
To allow the world to know what I flee.
I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.
I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.
With its higher flames with my scourge of bane.
Burning the past allows me to be free.
So I can cross the bridge of my domain.
Turmoil I've wrought, reasons never to care.
I'm trapped by illusions, a vanquished foe.
Minutes of my time and what we would share.
The price of misery I'll always owe.
How dark love becomes when nothing is meant.
When lies from lips can spill to be denied.
The days and nights soon rushed without lament.
Innocent torn hearts bled when they complied.
To have a sense of my past paradigm.
Yesterday's poems I've folded in time.
Yesterday's poems I've folded in time,
Only in darkness recalled of the night.
Replayed in my mind reveals every crime.
Smooth flattering words for eyes delight.
This hole in my soul could never be filled.
Stranger in worlds where all people conflict.
Angry from pursuit, of emotion spilled.
Cradled warm hearts with a hurt to inflict.
Emptiness showed my soul was devoured.
I've claimed a prize with cold dismal heart.
Ransom is held to share with a coward
As two quietly separate apart.
The next poem in line to purify,
To be in flames when the memories cry.
To be in flames when the memories cry.
From thoughts so deep from those who've departed.
The hate they carried of questions of why.
No regrets to be had of course charted.
They had no reason for hiding their thought
As it was born from seeds unintended.
The precious jewel of love that they sought,
In my lying arms died as intended.
This graveyard is filled with too many graves.
Caused by an emotional heartless space.
Collected as trophies desire engraves,
To be burned in this fire without a trace
Tossed in flames burning away exposed crime.
The smoke froze in dark-colored air to climb.
The smoke froze in dark-colored air to climb,
Ashes will crumble from evil now lost.
This carried burden across passing time,
Finally accountable for the cost.
Those dreams of fleeting caged moments held tight.
A small souvenir to be kept confides.
Restless from reasons of what's wrong, what's right,
And wrapped in time's cloak where my failure hides.
United with guilt as my days grow short.
Seeking truth from my life's darkest stain.
Finding sadness from a past I'll abort.
A trembling fragility I disdain.
To give some peace to each face I made cry.
I see them all rise to an endless sky.
Contest. Heroic Crown of Sonnets
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016
If only...I could start over again.
Took that job in Memphis and stayed away from so-called-friends.
If only...I could right the wrongs.
Find the perfect songs and make you giggle all night long.
If only...My wager would have been on the winning team.
But life is mean and I lost everything.
If only...I would have turned the other cheek.
You can't walk down a street without a coward preying on the weak.
If only...I would have turned left instead of right.
An automobile accident plus the loss of my eyesight.
If only...I could travel back in time.
Do things differently and have peace of mind.
If only...she were alive today.
My mother would shake her finger and say...
"If only, If only, If only!"
Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009
Friends we are much more I yern for us
I take to silence cause its not him.
That I was ever ment to to be.
A barfly wasnt ever ment to see the light.
I'll bury my emotions .
So no one will ever catch sight.
Drown like a coward in this bottle of booze.
And ignore the impulse.
For its not in my nature to use.
speaking whats on my mind.
Isnt worth leaving you
I cannot speak these words to your face.
but you bring warmth to my life.
And take away the emptyness
from this dismal place.
If only I was a painter then i could show
That I am empty without you here.
Am i the fool or just a pawn
just a worn out fighter in
a all to ready stance.
Dont need a fotune teller to
know I have no chance.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
If you ever
i stopped by
he wasn’t home
I knocked on
he was lucky
i know what
under the trailer
only 4 hrs old
while i was away
If you see death
i lay in wait
i’m not hurried
i’ve come for him
Copyright © M Braimah Saaka | Year Posted 2017
These nightmares feel real, like I’ve been here before,
I must be stuck in a phantasm of visionary abhor.
It was when my eyes closed that I knew this was an illusion,
now I’m tortured by this ordeal of agony and confusion.
Lost in a different dimension full of fear and regret,
Déjà vu of tormented realities I wish to forget.
Excuse me but I think there’s been some kind of intrusion,
will I awake once again drowning in smoldering sweat?
This happens too often and can’t be healthy anymore,
these nightmares feel real, like I’ve been here before.
These nightmares feel real, not fabricated from my imagination,
is this a telling of what is to come or a made-up creation?
Dread all day leading up to each night with insecurity,
the worry and fright of another eight hours of obscurity.
Apprehension takes over, I’m a lost woman terrified,
I start to become paranoid, I’m a coward petrified.
I cannot control these night terrors, this nocturnal anxiety,
I run as fast as I can, but there’s never a place to hide.
This regular occurrence has caused such daily agitation,
These nightmares feel real, not fabricated from my imagination.
I shall awake tomorrow morning as I do every day,
and at first everything on earth will seem to be okay,
but as the day draws closer to dusk my heart starts beating,
then the flashbacks of the nightmares keep repeating.
I am no longer safe inside this prison I call my mind,
I have become timorous and intimidated combined.
It’s so difficult to constantly be competing
with all the sane and protected people that I find.
How do I live with these nightmares my mind replays?
I shall awake tomorrow morning as I do every day.
It's all a messy blur I can't explain how I feel...
all I can say is that these nightmares feel real.
Nightmares - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
January 25th, 2018
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2018
Upon a fragile thread
Hangs the soldiers dream
Of surviving another day
On the battlefield of death
While on the other side
A young man straps on a bomb
Saying goodbye to his mother
With no fear of death
He heads out to take his life, as well as, the lives of others
In the name of his God
Led blindly down the path of deception
By perhaps the most famous man in the world
Bin Laden believes so strongly in his faith
That he will sacrifice any life necessary
Any life but his own that is
While hiding like a coward in the dark
Nothing more than a rat
Scurrying between caverns of nowhere
Posting his video’s to prove
That brave souls die for the glory of a coward
Bin Laden has no personal belief in his own teachings
His followers see him as a “Prophet of Allah”
They proudly give their lives for him
Believing in glory all the way to hell
What meaning can be found in this?
As my own son prepares to go to Afghanistan
Not long after returning from Iraq
Just a boy who has been thrust into the responsibility of killing
So our dreams may come true
I do have a dream
I dream that hero’s will be honored
Even those who are misled and suicidal
For in their hearts they believe
Strongly enough to give their lives
I do have a dream
I dream that cowards will die in their caves of refuge
And be eaten by the rats with which they dwell
I do have a dream
I dream that one day all men will realize
That through the “Blood of Christ”
All dreams can be answered!
For Carol's contest.
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010
They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A doer of good deeds.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
Believing he saved
From a long, cold walk,
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.
Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013
My mother went to heaven on the day that I was born
My father raised me up before my mother he would join
He said, “Son, to get to heaven you must live a good, clean life
So you can go to meet your mother and see me with my wife.”
So, I tried to be good and I followed the golden rule
I did what I should and I was obedient all through school
I shared what I could and I read my bible every day
I tried to avoid evil thoughts and never a hurtful thing I’d say
The kids picked on me and “goodie-two-shoes” became my name
But, because I had a mission my actions always were the same
The road to meet my mother was a path to be kept clear
So bullies had their way with me – no retaliation need they fear
After my father passed away I met a beautiful young girl
She was everything to me; she was the rock in my empty world
We got married in the Summer; she was carrying my child in the Spring
I was looking forward to being a father to this miracle she would bring
I was working at a charity when they broke into my house
My wife tried to hide from them, being quiet as a mouse
They said, “Oh look, its goodie-two-shoes’ home, lets burn it to the ground”
When she yelled at them to stop this act, my wife was finally found
I won’t say what they did to her – the details I will spare
When she said, “My husband will soon be back”, they said, “What do we care”
“Goodie-two-shoes shares everything, of course he’d share his wife
Besides, that man’s a coward; we can do just what we like.”
When I came home and saw her, my mother spoke into my ear,
“Don’t worry about heaven, son, I’ve always been right here.”
I took my wife to the hospital, where they said she’d be okay
Then I went to find those bastards and wipe my life of good away
When they saw me approaching they laughed right into my face
With the first swing of the baseball bat I fell from heavens’ grace
Two men were unconscious before the third knew what to do
The bullet that he shot at me, my shoulder it passed right through
Justifiable homicide – on probation for ten years
My wife and son at my side, there is happiness in my tears
My mother and father visit me every night in my bedtime dreams
I didn’t need to take that path to heaven – or so, at least, it seems
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2014
IN THE DENTIST’S CHAIR
Lean back and just relax
Put on these protective glasses please
Injection - this will not hurt at all
He says in fluent dentist-speak
Man with goggles and mask like an alien
Probing me like an insect aboard a UFO
God I‘m starving - no breakfast
Oh , from the x-ray looks like
We need a couple of fillings
And It was cornflakes and fried eggs and bacon
I’m afraid it will cause some discomfort
But just relax
I look at the legs of his pretty assistant for comfort
I was afraid to come here at all
Coward for pain in dentist’s chair
Put off and put off six months, till now -
April is the cruellest month*
Month of early cherries from Spain
And lettuce from the greenhouse
And a cucumber salad upon a table in the garden
Like a patient etherized upon a table*
As the alien probes my molars
And asks me about football on tv last night
Oh for a melon big as a football right now
Sold by the shop on the corner where the woman
Is so full-figured....watch her as she gives
Cucumber to another customer
Yes a bit of voyeurism sometimes is fun
Dental assistant’s legs show nice muscles
As she reaches up tip-toed for a tall
Pile of green plastic rinse-cups
Rather similar to a cucumber
I try to answer the football alien
With a mouth full of metal
I stutter and garble out a reply and the alien uh-huh s
Disinterested interest as they say
She looks into my face, concerned, and I am flattered
But she only sees my horrible decayed tooth
Now spit, and again, rinse, spit
I am helpless like a beetle on its back
Wearing plastic goggles
Use this tissue
She’s so helpful, like mother
Don’t eat for six hours even if you have a good appetite
Oh those melons….appetite
I am a man of appetites
No ! I am not Leopold Bloom nor was meant to be*
My appetites are mostly for learning, for humor, for sorrow,
But maybe a melon tomorrow.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
*These lines are quotes from T S ELIOT and J JOYCE, both masters
of the stream of consciousness technique.
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
Long ago Man soaked alters in blood
by sacrificing animals to God.
And ever since Noah and the flood
ploughs were hammered into sword and rod.
Civilizations grew and flowered
only to vanish with little trace.
And men of peace were labeled coward
while women were chattel kept in place.
God was always at war with Mankind
smiting pagans with His Holy wrath.
And compromise was so rare to find
there was no hope for a peaceful path.
Jesus didn't think of God that way
wanting to remove hate from His faith.
And preaching love taught us how to pray
purging souls of unclean thoughts and wraith.
He challenged what the people were taught
and they demanded blood for His love.
And crucified Him, yet His death bought
us eternal life through God above.
He was mourned and laid out in a cave
where for three days He suffered in hell.
And then He arose and left that grave
called His apostles and bid them tell.
God The Father now lives in our heart
blood is no longer offered to Him.
For through His Son, Man got a new start
and our fate no longer looks so grim.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
How do I tell the truth without telling a lie?
Spill my guts and walk away
Leaving someone else to clean up my mess
I threw the rock that broke the glass
Now to kiss and tell and wish you well
You had all the best and I'm left with the rest
Just a coward hiding in the fray
Trying to live up to seeing the sunny day
Worried that light might shine through the shattered glass
and find that I was the one who broke my heart in two
Copyright © Karen Dominick | Year Posted 2009
Believe no word I say;
Just watch what I do.
No matter how I try
I can't hide it from you.
Ashamed of every bite,
I starve in your eyes.
But when you turn around
I choke on french fries.
I can't hide from the world
That pure ecstasy I feel when in my mouth I cram
A cream puff, a box of cereal, a gallon of ice cream, a tray of brownies...
My heart aches.
If I had the guts
I'd eat only my scrambled brains
And drink nothing but my curdled blood.
But I'm a coward
So to numb the pain
I devour my self-esteem,
Cover my eyes,
And avoid mirrors.
The larger I become
The less of me you see.
I blend into the room;
I become the couch.
Maybe this is what I hoped for,
But I don't know for sure.
I'm the elephant in the room--
I would leave this hell
But I don't fit through the door.
Copyright © Anamika N | Year Posted 2012
So much for Adam talking to the Lord.
A conversation I am sure was bored .
Asking God for a women for him to receive.
Little did Adam know his EVE will be so easy to deceive.
"Take a night cap" replied God.
By morning she will own your Hot Rod.
Adam waking up in such nagging pain.
Along came Eve with much to gain.
From Adam's rib Eve was formed.
Nothing is impossible for God to transform.
"Eve my dear I will follow you in everything you beliEve."
"My love for you is sever, thanks for last nights relieve."
Bare naked striped from lies, God gave Adam and Eve his bless.
Walking around in nude allowing them to fell shameless.
"When I was hungry Eve's duty was to feed me."
"How could I say no to the apple against her naked body."
Forgetting about the good and evil.
Eve believed the male, we call the Devil.
"Oh my God Eve what have you done!"
"I am scared like a coward lets run!"
"Eve how could you believe another man?"
"Was his slither easier to understand."
Eve replied,"The snake promised me everything."
"I didn't know he was pulling my string."
"The snake said there is an A in the apple for me to weave.
"With a vision Adam one day you will leave."
"He said Adam is sometimes the I in Eve."
"He will also betray you with his own deceive."
"He said sometimes you will accept me when I conceive."
"Adam it was to much for me to perceive!"
"His tongue mentioned you will cost me to much grieve."
"Believe me he said I will be the only one in achIeve."
Adam says "Eve lets just hide from the Lord."
Eve tells Adam "To late we already pulled the cord."
"Do not worry I will bare it all."
"You will not be there when I call."
"The snake let me see with his crystal ball."
"I will break when you let me fall."
"Somehow you will always make me cry."
"You will drain me, and hang me out to dry."
"Still I will walk with my head up high."
"Knowingly it is my fault for being mislead, this I do not deny."
"For all the things you will ever do to me."
"I will marry you and cause you so much hell you see."
"I will take advantage of all material things."
"Make you buy me the most expensive rings."
"You followed me into our first sin."
"Men are weak when it comes to us women.'
"Yes I will find you in them Gentleman Club."
"Even than you will be a poor little lost wolf cub."
"I am Eve and I doomed us all once."
"I am here to offer my condolence."
"I gave up our happiness and paradise."
"Listening to the snake, on how big it is in size."
4 Daniel Cwiak=Adam
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Have you ever thought about the Death of Christ?
Why did they crucify him?
If you read the story then you know
But what I ask is why didn't God stop them?
It's natural to protect our own
How could he let him be sacrificed?
For the good of all man I've been told
God sacrificed his only son for us
But what does he ask in return? What does he want?
Are we supposed to try and emulate him?
I wish to know
I don't understand his decision
To not help his only son, I couldn't do that
But I do know that is why we are not gods
Do people who give their lives for others emulate God?
When a solider dies for our country is he dying for us?
Or freedom? or both?
Are the parents godlike in their sacrifice of their children?
Like Christ when he sacrificed his only son
Or is it more than that?
Is patriotism just a mindset to get people to fight?
When one country is mad at another
It's the leaders who argue not the countries
Why can't the leaders fight and leave us alone?
Do leaders send their own children to fight and die?
Why should I send my children to fight and die for you?
Are you a God? Do you have my interests at heart? Or yours?
You say it is in the name of freedom, but whose freedom?
We have never been free
You send me to fight, kill, and die
And yet you say I am free, free to do what?
Free to murder those you want dead?
Free to send my children to their death for you?
Who are you again? Are you a God?
I fight for God not you
My children are not targets or murderers
And now you demand my children to be your shield
Who are you again? Never mind
I know who you are it's very plain to see
You are not a god you are a coward
You are evil and you are trying to destroy us
You are lying to all of us just as you always have
You speak of freedom
As you try to blind us with patriotism
And silence us with duty and honor, Meaningless!
From one who knows nothing of their meaning
I wonder what God would say to you
Knowing who and what you are
Would he forgive you?
Would he understand your deception? Would he?
I could not forgive you, this is why I am not a god
I can't forgive, I am vengeful, I would punish you
For allowing this deception of youth to continue
Maybe you believe your right but I can't believe that
You know what your doing is wrong yet you continue
One day you will pay, as we all will
We are all guilty to some degree
But most of all we are guilty of sacrificing our children to you
Who are you again? never mind
I just remembered, your the devil
Copyright © Eric Nolan | Year Posted 2009
Cecil the lion of Zimbabwe, famous and beloved,
Shot by a bow hunter after being lured from his home;
It took Cecil forty hours to die, how he must have suffered,
They tracked him down and shot, skinned and beheaded him.
It was senseless, cowardly, cruel and barbaric,
Oh I weep for Cecil the lion with the rest of the world;
And all animals victims of trophy hunters who kill for the fun,
Our voices must be united and be strong, we must end poaching.
We must demand justice for Cecil and all animals,
The hunting for sport must be stopped as it is murder;
No amount of money makes it right, no more heads on walls,
No more animals killed by cowards with big egos and money to do it.
Sign a petition, make your voice heard loudly,
Laws need to change so that animals no longer die;
This particular killer will be tracked down just like he did,
But we will be more humane, we won't shot, skin and behead him.
This coward in hiding must face justice in Zimbabwe.
August 26, 2015
Written by Broken Wings
For the contest , What Is Your Form Of Justice, sponsor, Tammy Reams
Note: Image placed on poem after judging as sponsor did not want images on entries, but now that the contest is judged, I wanted everyone to see how beautiful Cecil was.
Copyright © Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015
Cries for help went awry ,
anguish and pain went in vain
lost battle of life before a coward.
Groping and forcing on a girl does not
make a man strong just proves that he is a beast,
and unfit to be among people.
Taking away a girl's modesty
is not a most heroic act
but a heinous crime which
even ferocious beast would not have.
Curse the moment when these
sick are born with lust all the time.
Even girls are afraid to
be mothers,raise kids like these.
The power of a man lies in character
and heart but not in sexual supremacy or desires.
(Dedicated to Nirbhaya,who was brutally raped and died fighting for her life.And all those who have been victims.Let's raise our standards and respect women everywhere ,without her there is no world.)
Copyright © kenisha shines | Year Posted 2013
As days go by,
And the pain gets worse,
I long to ride,
In my hearse
That "Exit Sign"
Above the door,
Calls to me,
Like never before...
I'm not a coward,
I'm not a fool,
But living with pain
Breaks the rule...
I hold back,
in fear of God,
And, I guess,
that's kind of odd,
Yet constant pain,
Just gnaws away
Makes me wish
Today's my final day...
And effects on loved ones,
Escapes me not,
To make them sad
Not a desire I've got
But pounding, twisting
Makes me wonder
How much more for me
That "Exit Sign"
Above the door,
Promising no more
So very tempting,
Believe you, me...
The meaning of my life,
Seems so well hidden
To die alone,
And in pain,
A life in vain.
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008