Best Cracked Poems
Once I'm gone
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part
on this watery ball of granite and clay
Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part
trying to find people to save
Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone
Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!
My life, like everybody else’s, is a treasure trove
with a mine from which one’s treasures are derived.
The familial bonds we form are platinum; our friendships gold.
These are precious ores that most souls are born to find with ease.
But all of us have other precious stones we need to mine.
They are the fruit of skills and talents put to their best use.
My treasure trove abounds with gems already -
ones that I discovered as a child.
Though rough in their natural form, most of them I opened
as I grew in understanding of God’s gifts for me.
Others not so easy to break open were able to be shaped,
for once I sought them out inside my mine
and cracked them open. . . their radiance was revealed to me.
Our precious gems, God-given, must not be squandered.
Once mined, they need to be shared.
Artists, teachers, scientists, tradesmen, leaders, even dreamers -
we all have different kinds of gemstones hidden in our mines.
Once, later on in my own life,
I came upon a silver tool used by many different types of artists.
I’d seen it in my youth but hardly used it.
Thousands of words lay embedded in that specific tool God gifted me.
I delved into the depths of my mine and learned
that I could tap and tap the silver worded tool upon each stone,
and finally a gem would then reveal itself to me.
The more I searched for stones to tap,
The more wondrous were the nuggets that appeared -
And there were more of them than I’d believed I could ever find -
buried there so deeply in my mine!
The art of crafting them and polishing them up
I was able to improve upon in time. . .
and found that even those less valuable could shine!
A poet’s gems need not be bought or sold.
Displaying them with love and pride alone can be fulfilling.
How I thrill to view a wide variety of gemstones
freely shown from others’ treasure troves.
From the rarest and the clearest multi-faceted
color-shifting Alexandrite and tanzanite,
and the most remarkable of diamonds, rubies,
sapphires, emeralds, amethyst and jade,
down to the lowliest of onyx, quartz, garnets, or agates,
each stone has something of the poet’s soul within it,
especially beautiful when polished to a brilliant sheen!
The more I open gemstones in my mine, the more of them I find,
and my silver-worded tool lies nearby at the ready.
"The Sky Cracked Open"
One day
the Sky cracked open
the yolk of life
shined through
Splinters shifted
blooded angel quills
flew amongst the
black spots in the iris
20/20 vision
wild joy ensued
imbued clearly
rapturous ambiguity
Don’t look back
this read
coded in the
chivalric Quixote
ridden on a donkey's back
it’s all fried
Prophetic
suspended
in control
of nothing
ah dreams
soft pillows
lots lost
pillars of salt
stasis
genesis
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Low Five" Splinter / Sneaker Pimps
https://youtu.be/2IevyK68dgQ
"For still the vision
awaits its appointed time;
it hastens to the end -
it will not lie.
If it seems slow,
wait for it;
it will surely come;
it will not delay."
***
“It's not that you should never
love something so much
that it can control you.
It's that you need to love
something that much
so you can never
be controlled.
It's not a weakness.
It's your best strength.”
***
Control
***
Freedom
LYRICS/ "Low Five" Splinter, Sneaker Pimps
https://genius.com/Sneaker-pimps-low-five-lyrics
1. Prophetic Dreams / You Tube (at Christmas, Home Alone....again, rolls eyes)
2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Don_Quixote
3. Control. Freedom.
enter piano...
These altered states and egos
Potential less than zero
Found God in San Diego
Nothing comes to mind...
Cracked Doors
It offered solace
an escape from life’s torment,
false comfort – oblivion’s
denial of the truth,
the lie of living’s afterlife.
Trembling hands reached out
in search of hope’s lost promise,
a door ajar, a welcome,
open invitation
to shed death’s robe, to live again.
John G. Lawless
contest – Door to a Wayra
7/16/2014
Some things I thought would never change -
it would always be "us three",
I try so hard to understand
why that wasn't meant to be.
The smiles, fun, and laughter;
the jokes we'd throw around,
Are now but distant memories
planted in the ground.
Only unlike seeds they do not wait
come spring to sprout anew,
They're trying to hide in the depths of my mind;
this year no flowers grew.
I had thought it would be like a rubber ball
and bounce right back to my grasp,
Yet I never had known that this friendship of ours
was made of fragile glass.
So when it came crashing down that day last month,
I almost didn't care,
For my perfect life had that perfect ball
that wouldn't need repair.
But the glass it cracked so harshly,
flinging pieces once so strong,
Could these sharp and hurtful shards
have been here all along?
I'm trying not to blame you,
but blame you I just might,
My pride is stubbornly in the way;
if I'm wrong I still am right.
For fairness we'll say we were both at fault,
clearly misunderstood,
And it could've ended there with a sorry that said
"I tried the best I could".
But the hurt took residence within you
until it overcame your heart
As the best friends since first grade
began to drift apart
I tried! I visited!
I texted! I called!
Only to receive unfriendly coldness
in the face of it all.
Not once did I text back a rude response
though I, too, ached with hurt
I forced on fake friendliness
while your remained curt.
Why didn't you inquire
about things on my end?
One who takes, but not gives,
do you call that a true friend?
Now instead of "us three",
I'm left with "us two"
But what's sadder than that
Is that you're left with...you.
You got lost there, in the place that whispered
"all is being lost",
But avoiding me just didn't work-
our paths were bound to cross.
So as we try our best to reconnect;
change craziness to sane,
I just want to say I'm sorry
for all the hurt and pain.
So the smile now, it's real today-
I'm not angry or upset,
But no glue in the world can fix up this crack
for I simply cannot forget.
Cracked
“Your brain is my pen”
Your hands are my feet
Your tongue is the tongue
That I use to eat
Your story my reality
Your pain my pleasure
Your face is the face
In the mirror that I treasure
Your eyes are my nose
Your fingers my toes
When I touch what you touch
I can smell a purple rose
Your walk is my swagger
Your toenails my eyes
Your voice is the voice
That exposes my lies
Me I am you
I’m that man in the mirror
I’m not a real person
I can’t even hear
Your Right is my Left
Me I have no brain
I’m tongue tied behind glass
It has driven me insane.
Inspired by a comment that Amb Maid Corbic left on my Book Head poem.
Before we know it, Easter will be here. Colorful flowers~candy and eggs will be everywhere. Dye your eggs~blue~pink~yellow~purple, then go hide them but no peeking. Now for the next week, colored eggs we will eat. Cracked egg shells will be all over the kitchen, save some for the garden for the pretty flowers to enjoy.
Date Written: 3/6/2023
In my thoughts poetic words are swirling, I found writing at an early age,
Tumbling and whirling, like caged birds; Depth of spirit and creativity are mine;
Trapped and reckless to be set free, Memories are free flowing in my words,
I must find paper and pen and release; Deep inspired poetry releases the past;
The fluttering, my muse is screaming, I drift and float, soul searching my inner life,
In my head, or is that me? Meaningful words pour out the sorrow.
I start to write and sad poems come, I let go of the past, I let the pain drift,
Creeping, word bleeding on paper; I lay each sorrowful and weeping word bare;
Oh do all poets struggle or just me? Bleeding upon a white page of paper,
And as I pen my verse, I weep. My poems are full of tears and memories.
The writing done, I sigh a tear, I have laid open this heart for all to see,
My muse has set me free; The story of my life can be found easily;
Memories are all I have, Photographs that float in my dreamy thoughts,
And the rain is falling down. The tomb is wet, so dark, so cold.
The pages of my life fluttering, Words deep engraved for all eternity,
Past the ornate gate; The wind takes my long hair and trees tremble;
Voices and murmurs calling me, Past the ornate gate and winding road,
I kiss dead lips and caress cold hands. I so often stand in this place of sorrow.
________________________________
September 26, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/Cracked and Fragmented Words
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 712-305-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Inspired by the poem Crack like fissures written by Richard Lamoureux
When the morning light,squeaks through the vanes;
of wooden casements and windowpanes.
When eyes glued shut,from night time fears,
are opened wanly to mornings clear.
That’s when in the corners of my mind,
thoughts of you rush forth to find;
Soft smiles, open arms and a warm heart,
You know I’ve loved you from the start.
Nothing is crueler than the need to satisfy man's inhumanity...The Poet
My heart cracked when I saw you there
those pained eyes with your empty stare
the state of your life is a stain
and will cause my tears to remain
the air is a bottomless gray
to breathe till' death and here you'll stay
this zoo's small cage is not your choice
you are dying, I won't rejoice
If you could spread your wings you'd fly
far above clouds, you'd reach so high
sadness is that you'll never know
the mountain tops covered in snow
you're a Condor waiting to die
you'll never glide high in the sky
a prisoner who sits alone
to never soar in the unknown
1/12/22
contest C form-couplet
sponsor Constance La France
chosen word-Cracked
A broken heart
Is like a cracked vase
Affection can't stay
Love left without a trace
Hurt runs deep
It needs healing & space
But true love prevails!
So powerful, you embrace
Inspired by the McWhirtle contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
11/15/19
Long, long ago Thai monks covered up
a golden Buddha in clay to hide it
from marauding armies and their greed.
It had been forgotten until recent years,
overlooked by invaders, ending all fears,
until monks saw through a single dried crack
seeing the shining statue safe and intact.
So the monks continued chipping away
revealing the Golden Buddha of Sukotai.
Let your spiritual journey begin
by finding your Buddhanature within.
Your hidden power can change so much:
unleash your passion, let souls touch.
For all your hopes once unspoken,
crack your Buddhaself wide open.
She wore a whole suit of armor around her heart and soul that nobody could come through to cause her fear, suffering, and pain, she wouldn't have it let alone permit it to happen so she never let people see to the heart of her soul.
She first started wearing the suit of armor as a child, she continued to keep it polished and strong all of these years it had worked like a charm. Family, and friends all thought they knew her heart, soul, thoughts, and feelings.
But the truth of the matter is nobody really knew her at all, they were just trying to tell her how to think and feel because they thought they were so smart. She thought it was funny at how they assumed that they knew her when in truth they didn't, all thanks to her polished strong suit of armor that she wore.
She believed with her whole heart and soul that nobody would ever come past her polished strong suit of armor that she wore, she found out just how naive she really was one day.
It just wasn't anybody no this person was the only person who has always had her heart from their very first meeting of each other, she continued to try and keep her suit of armor polished and strong even though she was with her love.
But to her greatest surprise and dismay, she didn't notice anything wrong until it was way too late, her love had already put a crack in her polished strong suit of armor that she wore to protect herself with. No matter how much she tried she couldn't fix the crack in her polished strong suit of armor that she wore, the damage was already done and her love had already seen through to her heart and soul.
By: Vera Rice!
Out of the crack, a life did rise,
A fragile bloom beneath the skies.
No gentle rain, no nurturing hand,
Just broken stones, a barren land.
But still, it fought, it clawed its way,
Toward the sun, it longed for day.
A tiny shoot, a will to grow,
A heart that hope would never forgo.
Like fragile souls, with spirits strong,
Who weather hardship all life long.
Though lost and lonely, cast aside,
Their dreams still bloom, a source of pride.
So let them rise, these broken hearts,
And find their strength in scattered parts.
For even roses, cracked and torn,
Can fill the world with beauty, born.
By Ombuge Moses
Mama!
You sleep on a crack ground
Empty is the stomach
Hot is the sun
Nothing to quench the crack
The thirst is killing
Cracked is my throat
Helplessly you lay
You sleep on a crack ground
Baba!
Your cry is echoing
My ears cannot stop
My tears cool my cheeks
My face is running dry
You sleep in a crack ground
Forever never to see you again
Mama has followed you
Death has come
It’s so helpless
Who to run to
They promised food
They brought food
They promised water
They brought water
We need food
We need water
We are dying of hunger, of thirst
Who will take care of me the orphan?
Will I die before the next food come?
Will I die before the next water come?
Will I die like Baba?
Will I lay helpless to death like Mama?
Heavenly GOD
Your mercy
I cry indeed
In need
Not In want
When they saw us dying
They brought canned food
When they saw us dying
They brought bottled water
This is a customary issue, problem
Death of hunger
Thirst to death
The solution is death, for me
For you, solution- canned food, bottled water
We need a source
Give us a water source
To plant the seed
To eat from our labor
Weeding, Oh! How is it done?
Irrigating the plant
Nurturing the crop
To live to see a generation
A healthy life
An ordinary way to live
To this
Mama!
You sleep on a cracked ground
Baba!
You sleep in a cracked ground
Dead, you are gone
I your son,
Tonight, I sleep on a cracked ground
If I see tomorrow, I will bury you Mama
I will water your grave Baba
If they give me a water source
Bottled one, I will quench
The thirst that killed you Mama
Use the source to irrigate
Plant a seed, to grow food
A generation
A future
A healthy mind
Never to sleep
On,
In,
A cracked ground
God, to guide
A Kenyan, for a generation