I called to the winds of autumn
As they wrapped up the dying year;
"Oh stay for a moment and tell me
Of answers I need to hear".
Who is the rival of prudence
Who is the merchant of crime
Who closes the eyes of beauty
And steals the hours of time?
Who brings the winter to age
From the springs of the fountain of youth
Who is the companion of sorrow
And destroys the justice of truth?
Who's the apprentice of Satan
The Prince of the Power of Air
Whose appetite is transgression
With more than enough to share?
Who weakens the power of the great
Who slaughters the wisdom of wise
Who brings the honest and gracious
To depths that others despise?
The winds of autumn now answered
With a voice like a phantom call
"It's an evil afflicting so many
Who drown in the drink alcohol."
This is the spell of the devil
Who casts his net from hell
An addiction with power to destroy
Gathering all who are caught in its spell
For his net will gather the unwary
To beguile lost souls with his breath;
This is the destruction of lost dreams
That perish in the arms of death
Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012
Escape from a world of unhappiness and sorrow
Days and weeks pass and I realize that I despise this cold hole
Let me be ...
Trapped not only within those four dark walls,
but with the elements in time and place
Let me be ...
Tears that makes you feel completely empty and useless plastic
Stop thinking, collaborating with false emotion
Let me be ...
When will you understand, you do not own my thoughts
I know I should be strong, but it is so painful
Let me be ...
Slowly draining my throat, I scream for water and air
While the morning sun lazily crawling along the purple river
Let me be here forever ...
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017
Don't let hate dominate.
Let love sate - animate
With the pain in your heart.
Set it free from the start.
Let it go, let it part.
An ugly form of art.
That don't make you look too smart.
In the realms of sacred humanity
Hate is regarded as insanity
Hypocritical cries are your disguise.
Judgemental eyes lead to your demise.
There's no prize for those who like to despise.
When sweet little lies become your allies
in sinful ties, your ego will baptise.
To love is wise, let it be your franchise.
Love thy neighbour that's what holy books teach.
But when they sin they turn the other cheek.
Surely they should practice what they preach?
Let love create rainbows in their speech.
I understand the eyes can go blind
when anger starts to confuse the mind
Remember Socrates's test;
three filters to consider are best.
Heavenly guides from high above,
encourage to plant seeds of love.
Sow, sow, sow, you can't go wrong.
Just like they sing in that song:
"Every woman every man
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
Everybody take a stand
Join the caravan of love
(Stand up) stand up
I'm your brother
I'm your brother don't you know
She's my sister
She's my sister don't you know
We'll be living in a world of peace
And the day when everyone is free
We'll bring the young and the old
Won't you let your love flow, from your heart."
12 November 2017
Lyrics are from Housemartin's song: caravan of love
A timely reminder
Once upon a time an old man spread rumors
that his neighbor was a thief.
As a result, the young man was arrested.
Days later the young man was proven innocent.
After being released he sued the old man for
wrongly accusing him. In court the old man told the Judge : They were
just comments, didn't harm anyone..
The judge, before passing sentence on the case,
told the old man : Write all the things you said
about him on a piece of paper. Cut them up and
on the way home, throw the pieces of paper out. Tomorrow, come back to hear the sentence.
The next day, the judge told the old man : Before
receiving the sentence, you will have to go out
and gather all the pieces of paper that you threw out yesterday.
The old man said : I can't do that ! The wind
spread them and I won't know where to find them.
The judge then replied : The same way, simple comments may destroy the honor of a man to such an extent that one is not able to fix it. "If you can't speak well of someone, rather don't say anything.
" Let's all be masters of our mouths, so that we
won't be slaves of our words."
“Gossips are worse than thieves because they steal another person’s dignity, honour, reputation and credibility which are impossible to restore. So remember this: when your feet slip, you can always recover your balance but when your tongue slips, you can never recover your words!”
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017
we strive to make sure
each day enlightens us
and brightens us
even as light fades to gray
may we keep fighting
with two swollen feet
beneath the body and soul
and intense life lessons
meshed with stresses
may we persevere
turn off fear's song
may we stand firm
as we glide along
through shifty winds of change
that may cause things to sway
but we hold true
inside the values and morality
we stand for
fall for nothing
may stumble along the trip
may swerve at the wheel yet
do not lose our grip
because no one
can eclipse the sun
before they're done
Just when situations arise
flooding us with pain we despise
and just when it seems like
our tear ducts are dry
from ongoing cries
we may think
things are on the brink of ending
then God shows us the ways of faith
by way of love that he's sending
we make sure
every day enlightens us
and brightens us
as each day takes its turn.
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2012
Explain to me why I stand alone.
Women are quick to uplift their father, sons, and brothers
Quick to maintain the home,
But when she needs support,
A woman stands alone
Explain to me why a woman has to stay in her “place”
Is there no room for a woman who is more than a pretty face?
Is there no room for a woman who can stimulate you intellectually
Or is it a woman’s only duty to please you sexually?
Explain to me why beating a woman gives you power
It gives you strength
Is masculinity so fragile
That you can’t maintain?
Without getting pleasure from pain
Explain to me why your brother goes scott free
When he takes advantage of a woman
While she is left to be ridiculed, blamed
As society throws dirt on her name
And she falls victim to her own demise.
The men who are so oblivious to their own privilege
That they think patriarchy is normal
Excuse my language
As I speak a bit informal
For you to understand
That you cannot catcall me as I walk down the street
It’s disgusting and demeaning
No I am not obligated to give you my number
Just because you ask and think you are getting a pass at me
No I don’t need you to hold the door open or carry my groceries
I am a strong, independent woman and your belief that I am weak
No I do not have to give you my body just because you bought me a drink
My body belongs to me
No matter what you tell yourself or think
You can no longer say that you are ignorant to my issues or my demands
Because I have clearly listed it for you to see.
Now only a real man
Will know, that women deserve equity
Copyright © Kapree Tripp | Year Posted 2017
The mean old housecat has bulgy eyes
when she looks at us in our fish bowl
Oh, how much we've come to despise
that big mouth of hers, the black hole
Poised to pounce with sharpened claws
She's taking jabs with hatred brimming
that ugly feline beast with drooling jaws
for us little fishes, innocently swimming
Our little bowl is cosy, room for only two
bad kitty on the outside, always looking in
If her paw ever grabs us, what are we to do
we’d be much safer in a smelly sardine tin!
If she ever catches us, we’ve got big troubles
perhaps in her dreams she sees us as fat trout
In fear we produced a stream of gassy bubbles
If only our owner would give bad kitty a clout!
All the chaos made us soil ourselves with poop
so we let that mean old cat feast on a tasty treat
When her nasty tongue slurped intestinal goop
the beast screeched in horror! Revenge is sweet!
Our owner came home and cleaned out the bowl
Soon we returned to our safe sweet smelling home
Kitty got banned but can see us through the keyhole
Now we don’t suffer from irritable bowl syndrome!
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2017
Words of Mass Destruction
Words like bullets do not have eyes, as they fly in our hearts and materialize
Deleterious breaths that we soon despise, words written in stone we idealize
Warring weaponed words that paralyze, wounding wandering words terrorize
Torpedo texts thrown to criticize, paranoid punitive parasites will pulverize
Like the Atom bomb, words are strong only use them wisely where they belong
Some create a lullaby or sweet a song, while others use them to do their wrong
Words of deception create no affection only intervene with the inflating infection
Annihilating in their corrupt convention, wary words that bring rigorous rejection
Of the negative neurotic neglect, wording witches and warlocks of their architect
Dehumanized discord of disconnect, vengeful letters lashing will always resurrect
Words can frighten as well as enlighten, some will delight in words that tighten
Words of corruption bring self-destruction, a raging ruction of a serpent seduction.
Judgmental People And Haters
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2017
My prayers are not asking you to
save me from my enemy.
My children have turned their backs.
They praise dance with many
When they need be refuking,
protesting and rebuking.
Among-st those who fight against me-
be my offspring.
I fear not the man who
I already know to be the beast
While my eyes follow my historical foe:
Those created in my womb,go
behind my back sign treaties with known
Chiding our valuable place in history.
They do not want to know how they got here-
They do not care.The nature
of the beast consumes them.
Eyes full of temptations we
kept their butts covered,
and gave them what we could never have.
Instead of gratitude they give us latitude
we cannot reach them.
They love the enemy, like a favorite pet-
Stroking the dog and biting
the hand that feeds them wisdom.
We walked miles with no shoes -
Prayed for our families-
Now our families-prey on us
With every thing handed to
them through the struggle;
Our children render our efforts
useless and in vain.
Vanity be thou sanity
Consuming life from
the top shelves in cafe's...
Thinking non -sober thoughts-
Who knows why we now be despise.
Deaf are their ears when they hear our names;
Holding us accountable, For the shame.
Never ready for the change.
My prayer now is;
God save me from my people:
The joy that settled in my
accomplishments is now
They want to have
their cake crumbs
and eat them too.
Save us from the
disgrace of how they
discount all we've sacrificed -
We made it through
and we have shown our
strength against all odds
How now they praise-
dance with the enemy
They drink no more
from separate fountains
Never sat in the balcony-
never knew the colored section;
Never stood on buses.
Those of us who never found a soft
place to land in the concrete jungles;
have lined your bottoms with cushion's
from the sacrifices and suffering we
Watching you again discount us as you
leave us to the ridicule of your own judgment.
As you praise dance with those
who aspire to see your detriment.
Never before have so many brave elders
have had to watch their own children rob
them of their glory and dignity.
Even an imbecilic knows when he's better off.
That's the sad difference between an
slow learner and a fool.
A fool never cares nor takes responsibility..
The slow learner finally learns.
And is delighted to be enlightened.
Where the fool continues
to waddle blissfully in his own ignorance -
Resenting all who shed light on the
error of his ways....
Those who have his best interest -
Become his stumbling block.
Difficult now for them to blame others;
With bright lights shining on stupidity--
We give them proof-
blinded and overwhelmed
by the truth-they are not interested our story
Never realizing that while their
stubborn heads were buried-in the sand.
We still have to stand-- guard
over their protruding azzes
Until my children have learned
where they fit in on earth,
and what they are truly worth
they will continue " Praise-
Dancing" with the enemies
They will continue to be as eaglet's
flapping around the yard ,
clucking with the chickens...
never soaring-never getting off the ground
Bewildered by our "diminutive etymology":
The Elders and The Ancestors;
We look dumbfounded,and mutter....
"Where did we go Wrong" ?
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2013
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
It may be your
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".
If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.
The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.
Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.
Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
or negative energy.
Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.
Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.
Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.
In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.
I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.
The real power is in
of the speaking tongue.
For those who live by
the sharp and sworded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer;
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
You thought you’d make a fool of me
I was so blind but now I see
So now you’ve had your little joke
Guess I’m just warning other folk
You’d look at me with those bedroom eyes
But your tender words I now despise
You broke my heart through and through
Well honey I’ve got some news for you
Your designer clothes are now in rags
Packed up inside black plastic bags
Your cars been scratched and it’s got a dent
Your name has been taken off the rent
You love to flirt, but you’re a cheat
You’re just like a dog on heat
But I’m now aware of your little game
No man will hurt me ever again
Don’t get taken in by charming men
They use you and just start again
From now on I am in control
Hey man you’re just a big asshole
24th July 2014
Contest 101 in a row ~10 sponsored by PD Linda:-)
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014
My name is W. Z, 8.
I do not start work until late
You may recognize my orange hue
As I clearly come into your view
I am a street lamp, here I always stand
Life for me is not always grand
I’m going rusty though covered in galvanise
This drab grey colour I really do despise
Your dogs they love to wee up me
How would it be if I gave them a jolt of electricity?
They hang scoop the poop signs upon me
Can someone tell me where’s my dignity
I am not political yet every election
They hang their signs on me it looks like an infection
Pictures upon me of a lost cat and dog
My yellow light lets you see them in the fog
Sometime my bulb may just get broke
All the other lamps they make jokes
At night I see tramps sleeping in boxes
That and the owls and the urban foxes
They say Prince Charles likes to hug a tree
Can someone tell me why no one will hug me?
Is it that I’m about twenty feet tall
Do I not provide a service to you all?
So after this I hope you appreciate
Me working in the dark and very late
In the future don’t hit me with your car
Because my life is already hard enough by far
Copyright © Owen Yeates | Year Posted 2013
I never cease to ponder at the turmoil in my life
Though I feel my soul is peaceful it is manifest in strife
While the strife is all internal 'neath a self content facade
Turmoil rises in the absence of at-one-ment with my God
Is it merely my perception? Am I resisting taking heed?
Should this life be one of resting, or is it strife I need?
It should be a simple matter to find the purpose of this life
Is it growth I need from striving or is it rest I need from strife?
Is it focused introspection, is it altruistic love?
Is it spiritual reflection, or is it all of the above?
For sure it’s more than economic, yet while that’s necessary too
Is it our souls’ evolution that makes it all worthwhile to do.
I can see no point in living just to pass another day
I must have something more worth giving, than just to pay my way.
It would be so much the simpler if a man could know for sure
What his purpose is for living, his evolvement to procure.
Will my purpose well within me? Could a vision not appear?
And suggest a clear direction to pursue while I am here.
I’m so tired of treading water, putting time in ‘till I die
There must be something more constructive waiting for me by and by
I have fancied other options but none have succored to my taste
Yet to continue what I’m doing simply put, seems like a waste
So it seems the only option is to carry on and wait
And resolve that when I’m called on I will not hesitate
I have learned of soul eternal, on an endless ageless quest
Taking various forms and bodies, each to serve its purpose best
With each lifetime experience and with every lesson learned
It’s one step closer to perfection that the growing soul has earned
For it’s purpose is advancement, and to not be left behind
In it’s struggle for ascension to God, the universal mind
I have friends who understand me, superficially at least
I have others who are certain I have succumbed to the beast.
I have family who despise me as a traitor to the faith
Very quick to, criticize me and condemn me as "off base"
I have learned I must not judge them, t’would be a travesty indeed
For they are only doing what ‘ere it is that their souls need.
In the meantime, I’m impatient, that my calling has not come
It’s quite clear that I’m not ready, sufficient learning’s not been done.
The problem’s not with others, nor need they change for me
The work must all be done within me for my soul to be set free
Copyright © Vic Pister | Year Posted 2013
A. W. Nutter
Fog from my breath in the way
Temporarily impeding my vision
A small lamp, illuminates my prey
Unaware, of his impending execution
Rons wife, conveniently out of town
Visiting a sick relative, her perfect alibi
She must really despise this clown
I wonder if she kissed the fool goodbye
Staying in the shadows around the house
Dressed in black, invisible in the darkness
Entering their kitchen, quiet as a mouse
Through a window, left unlocked on purpose
From the first bedroom a child moans
Peering at the bed and the sleeping boy
The husband was supposed to be left alone
She'll pay dearly for this unexpected ploy
With the silencer in place I wake up Ron
He dresses quickly picking up his keys
Protesting will endanger his bastard son
He drives us deep into the forest of trees
Removing my mask he views his twin
Staring into the face of his supine form
Before he can protest I commit the sin
Then pray for God to help me reform
Burning the body along with the gun
Quickly driving home to start my new life
Showering, I slip into bed with my son
Real father and mother now husband and wife
Copyright © Anthony Nutter | Year Posted 2010
And the music began,
And with power so strong, I nearly fell back from the force
Snarling, smiling, demons held me upright,
As the Precarious Prince began,
“Dare you in silence come to me, Daughter of Eve,
To challenge my wisdom with your lust to sing,
A child of God—you provoke His flea,
A monster in the dark—a sight to see!
In meditative silence, I was ever blooming,
The passion for power in my mind consuming,
In silence, my brilliance berated all other
My beauty, shocking, my wings of color
Etched in golden array,
Silence was my everything,
A bud so tight, so light, so moist,
In heaven bright—its beam rejoiced!
And now, as knowledge, as power do burst,
I sit in silence, though in the worst
A quiet so perturbed your stomach curbs,
I long in luster for demons to disturb
Silence, once a subordinate to my wit,
Had found its way into this grimy pit,
Where now your God has given me,
A work of sloppy treachery…
Had I been He, and He been me,
I would throw His heart into the sea,
And watch the eels suck each artery
And listen to his lullabies for a century,
To feel his spirit sweat in the flames of my power,
I would shred his head on the highest tower,
Give him something to really Bab-bel,
Make him wish Eve had crushed that apple”
He smiled at me with teeth protruding,
Keenly waiting for my reply
My throat was insanely dry, and my heart racing
I had expected more, yet expected less…
And now all my wits were a wretched mess
Yet still Death severed those deep bass chords..
I began as a child would, with a doubtful sigh,
I wondered yet again what kind of trouble I was coming by
And inspired by The Reaper’s little push, I began
“In my days in your presence, dear one
Silence shall not roam too close,
I do not sing to disdain you,
Rather to know you,
I do not grow quiet,
To decompose you…”
I stopped for a moment,
To see him staring rather attentively,
As if he were expecting a miracle
His almost angelic expression changed as quick as it came…
“Go on…” He demanded. “Sing me what your God would have sang…”
“You speak of silence, in the fogs of doom,
In your pit you dwell, and with a child you make room,
I have ached long in the vision of your cries,
Watching the happy children, and the relieving sighs,
I imagined you just as I see you today,
A beautiful sufferer, with wit, bite, and sway
Crushing courage in your wake,
I implore you—you quake
Moments like these I will never forget,
To win, to lose, to KNOW I wait yet!
What is it with man and his thirst for the truth,
Leading him to fall, to intercede his youth,
And as I do now, wrong or right,
By God and his angels has found delight!
Allowed me with confidence to face you Prince,
A sauntering being of ire and impertinence
I see where your attention bleeds,
I see your mind and I see your needs
Such darkness must now allow some light,
By accepting my challenge—a bravery so bright
Do I mean to admire you, accept you, despise you
Am I hear to judge you, taunt you, transpire you
You and you alone I come for, oh Prince
To show you I care, to break the silence
To share with you the precious gifts of song,
To love, to sing, and in turn…belong…”
The demons chimed with laughter dark
As the Prince sat close beside me
He stood very slow, towering over me,
And took me by the arm
“Charming voice, darling,
You sing quite well,
Shall we sing for as long as you say?
Will you not be missed?”
He pointed above me, and stared at me deeply
There was warning written all over him
A threatening, distant eye,
The other full of desire
“I am missed by you, though I stand before you,
This I say, Prince
I shall stay with you 40 days and 40 nights,
And then I shall leave you, in the breaking dawn of day…”
His grip tightened upon me,
“I have you, child, woman…light…
For 40 Days and 40 nights…
Before then, let us make history of song
Yes, my dear... let us both belong…”
The demons gasped,
And Death stood still…steadily strumming a pulse of daring life
----Thank you once again, Justin Bordner, for the title to this work.
This may be confusing if you have not yet read the other parts to the poem. If you are interested, they are called Light On the Devil’s Chord – Part 1, Part 2 Part 3 as well as The ChallengeThanks for reading friends! ~Laura
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
No longer at desk the typewriter has been given
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.
The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.
Vist's from thoose who once knew the man
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.
Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.
To be the man they never knew and the one he
could admire and both despise.
The page sits in typewriter like a willing
eager lover in bed.
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.
He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.
He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without
a chance of ever capturing this moment.
The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.
Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009
Truly amaze me ...
They possess the super-human
Strength to birth a child - one of
The most painful and demanding
Feats of endurance known to our
Species - yet they have the
Self-confidence to be meek and
Tender, with the gentle and sweet
Fortitude needed for motherhood ...
They have the extraordinary insight
To look into your eyes and know
What you're feeling ... they can be
Completely confident in who they
Are, and yet totally vulnerable in
Who they want to be ... they can
Have the strength of ten men in
Bearing young, and the sexuality to
Bring a hundred men to their knees ...
They are at one moment the most
Simple creatures in their need for
Love, and at the next so complicated
That they are unfathomable ...
They can be the most loving and
Accepting people you've ever
Known, or the most frighteningly
Fierce and formidable foes
Imaginable ... they can lay bare
Their soul before you and give it
Up with passion, or build walls so
Strong that nothing but time can
Bring them down ... they can let
You believe, in their confidence,
That you are the strongest being
Alive, or remind you that the very
Fires of Hell are at their beck-and-call ...
They are EACH and ALL an amazing
Creation of utter perfection and
Grace, and like brittle snowflakes,
Uniquely wondrous and different
In every way, at one moment a
Mystery beyond comprehension,
And at the next, the most delightfully
Familiar soul you've ever encountered ...
Their tears flow as freely as their
Laughter, and they are as spiritual as
They are sensible ... they measure
Their own elegance by how they
Feel INSIDE ... about themselves.
They are at once outspoken and
Demure ... they may need to be
Held and told everything will be
Alright, or they may need to take
The lead and be honored ... they
May want to hear about your
Wildest dreams, or need you to
Really LISTEN to how they feel ...
They may want YOU to take control
And show them your deepest desires,
Or they may need to have their
Every wish fulfilled ... they may want
You to be endlessly mysterious, then
Lay bare your broken spirit on the
Altar of their passion. A woman may
Want to look perfect, with every hair
And detail in place, or she may run wild
Through the rain ... she may share the
Fires of her deepest lust and desires,
Or she may make you feel the cold
Regard of her wrath ... she may want
You to be firm and forward, and then
Desire only tenderness and care ...
She may cry at your funniest joke,
Or laugh at your saddest story, and
Expect you to understand ... she
May howl at the moon in madness,
Yet require you to keep her sane ...
She may endear you with her ferocity,
Then frighten you with her kindness.
She may love you more in her anger
Than she ever could in her joy, or
Adore you for your carelessness,
Yet despise you for your attention.
A woman is the perfect vessel and
The ultimate contradiction, on
The pedestal one moment, and
At your feet the next. Their bodies
Are warm and cold, salty and sweet,
Rough and smooth, with hidden
Wonders and responses all their own,
First trembling at your lightest touch,
Then needing the firm press of flesh,
Every soft inch a sublime adventure,
Every subtle curve a joy ... but
Their minds are keen and as
Sharp-edged as any razor ... they
Can cut you with their words and
Their stare, then leave you bleeding ...
They are elation and anger, vigor
And vulnerability, coyness and
Carnality ... in a moment they
Can drag you through hell, or carry
You to heaven ... they can be angel
Or demon, mother or daughter,
Temptress or torturer ... they can
Make you the king of their heart,
Or remind you of your absolute
Insignificance ... they are told from
Birth that they are inferior to men -
Weaker, softer, more fragile - yet
Despite that they are more determined,
More durable, more wise, more
Diligent, more deft, more caring,
More tenacious, more hard-working,
And more intuitive, than most three
Men put together ... they can be
Great moms or be great boxers ...
They can be successful professionals
Or stay-at-home wives, they can
Do most jobs as well as any man,
And do a hundred other things that
Many men are never even taught!
They can teach, fight, love, paint,
Play drums, be weightlifters,
Ballerinas, truck drivers, nurses,
Army sergeants, cooks, seamstresses,
Basketball players, florists, pharmacists,
Doctors, lawyers ... women can
Wear dresses or they can wear work
Pants, they can wear toe shoes or
They can wear hockey skates,
They can wear ponytails or they
Can wear hard hats, they can wear
Steel-toed boots or they can wear
Stilettos, they can wear overalls
Or miniskirts. I believe that one
Of the primary reasons that they
Have been marginalized for so
Many centuries, is that men knew
That if women ever DID start doing
The things that men have always done,
Everyone would find out that women
Were BETTER at 99% of those things,
And would start demanding equal pay
And equal rights! That is starting to
Come to pass, and I think it scares
Many men ... women are told their
Whole lives what they CAN'T do, yet
They spend their whole lives doing
Things that many men are incapable
Of, things that men don't care to
Do or want to do or have to do ...
Men are intent on making a living,
Yet women are what we live FOR ...
Women have forever lived in the
Shadow of men, but men would
HAVE no shadow without the
Sunlight that women shine on our
Lives ... if Woman really WAS made
After Man, it's because the Creator
Didn't get human beings right the
First time, and perfected the species
With the female version ... and most
Of all, no matter how much you
Learn about them, or how much
You may know of all these things
I've touched on, or how much you
Listen and absorb what they tell
You about themselves, you will
Never, ever, EVER, understand them ...
Yet there is absolutely NOTHING in
Heaven or earth, that is as wonderfully
Sexy and sublime, entertaining and
Enticing, intently intense, or
Imperfectly perfect, as ...
Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017
I am a pacifist I despise war.
It’s the only thing I actually hate.
I’m never able to brace myself for
Diplomacy that deteriorates:
Recriminating dialogue amuck
That results in irrationality.
Adults become intellectual schmucks
Whose mentality in reality
Is equivalent to a chimpanzee
In spite of our advances in science.
Our mentality still swings from the trees
Where once apish self’s had claimed provenance.
We haven’t evolved from our ancient source
Thus war is likely a matter of course.
Copyright © Albert Ahearn | Year Posted 2009
Broken last night,
I woke up
I want to fix it.
I've tried to mend
by shooting it into my vein,
getting in and going,
by another lover,
carving the love into my skin,
by sleeping away
the black out.
Useless things are poison to the temple.
It’s either one cigarette after another,
or lots of chocolate,
the sad tale goes on and on.
But the fragile heart is broken.
What do I do?
They tell me to,
Rely on Thee
It's hard for me
I can't see,
Although I know
and have been very close before.
I was expelled from Hell, thank God.
Entered into the sunlight.
While the whole world
Is in agony.
I'm feeling happy,
my heart feels healed,
but this is a deception....
it is still broken.
Just like a peculiar disease,
there's no cure.
and deal with all its cuts and bruises...
but then all you have are scars. .
My medicine for the bleeding within...
Is to await love to call me,
and say that everything is ok. Not to despise my needs...
Inside, there is a little girl screaming.
And some times...there's an old lady whispering
that she is utterly tired, and can't bare it anymore.
Do you shut the door on your heart?
I can't seem to do it.
It's too powerful and pure,
this instrument that passionately pounds within me.
All its pain...
I have no control.
Do you have a broken heart?
Do you have a heart at all?
Copyright © Sky Lesco | Year Posted 2007
Sitting beneath the stellar awning
Humbly, shall I comemmorate
Before the sun, creeps in crawling
Every star shall I dedicate
To you, My Love; Look at the skies
For you, My Love, I most despise.
To you, I say, in subtle north
Go tell him how my heart did bleed
When he did scowl, as I put forth
The ways I cared and loved indeed
You'd kiss my wounds - control, condole
Then skew them deeper, slaying my soul.
In far east, you, so bright yet blank
Have you not seen how hard i wept?
When flowed his eyes, his tears I drank
Did you not count my nights unslept?
And blind, was I, to your disguise
Gaze up, My Love, go find your lies!
Weep not, My friend, most close-knit
For you did taste deception bitter
Dazzled like queen, down south you sit
Mere a pawn now of waning glitter
Concur I, My Love, all pretence is sweet!
Until falls the cloak, and truth does greet.
Toppled, as I, did west monarch shiver
Warned of haste; but he'd cried my name
Limits, leaped I, not a blink's quiver
For cared I not, if world did blame
In pain, My Love, at me, you mocked
Alone, My Love, left me, you debauched!
Sorrow, the sacrifice, you did witness
O! Glazing Moon! Make haste and tell
How profound is hatred, beneath this breast
Where, drenched in love, a heart did dwell
Upon you, My heart, I swear, I proclaim
Sha'n't ever bleed in eye, sha'n't ever take his name.
Lo! Behold! Last thing, I wish to confess
If I say unto you, shall I be relieved
For you know me, my heart at best
If I say unto you, shall I be believed
No matter how high may hatred soar
I own, my love shall weigh ever more!
Copyright © Pallavi Khera | Year Posted 2009
Her eyes are blind to all his lies,
excuses and false alibis
The woman cuddles, silently
beside her lover, brazenly
until dawn welcomes the sunrise.
She cannot see behind his guise,
the charade she'll come to despise.
Defending him, defiantly.
Her eyes are blind ~
One day it will be no surprise,
when the veil will fall from her eyes
but until that day, quietly
she lives unaware, piously
on knees, a slave never to rise.
Her eyes are blind ~
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2017
The Locket (it’s never too late)
She hid in the shadows with tears in her eyes
The locket she wore, she had come to despise
In dangling silver the shape of a heart
What once was a gift now ripped her apart
Alone with her feelings, she crept through the night
Embracing the darkness, fearing the light
Gripping the chain that was cold on her skin
Telling herself that she’d never again
Open the locket for what was inside
Memories that she was now forced to hide
Happier times when her hair was so dark
Running and playing those days in the park
Falling in love at the very first kiss
Ice cream on Sundays, those days she would miss
Merry go rounds and that big Ferris wheel
Moments of joy that she now must conceal
For age had come calling, it stood in her way
Her once lustrous hair, was a light shade of grey
And wrinkles appeared where her beauty once shined
Each look in the locket, just served to remind
For it held a picture of her in her youth
When she was quite young, it presented the proof
A gift from her parents who passed long ago
She thought to discard it but always said no
Her good days were gone, she had left them behind
Just knowing that time has eclipsed her to find
Someone to love her in this later stage
She won’t find affection because of her age
While lost in these thoughts, a voice she did hear
It seemed that a man had just stepped very near
He reached for her arm, oh the fear in her eyes
Then he called her by name, when she realized
He looked so familiar, someone she did know
A face from her past, such a long time ago
And then she remembered, when she was a teen
He was the most handsome boy she’d ever seen
"What are you doing out here in the dark?
You know it’s not safe all alone in the park
I haven’t seen you for many a year,
but now that I do I can see it is clear
You’re just as beautiful as so long before
When I held the secret that you I adore
I kept this photo each day close to me"
He took out the photograph so she could see
It was the picture now locked in the charm
The look on her face showed embarrassed alarm
But then she smiled for she had no choice
A comfort had come at the sound of his voice
"You look no different, I truly must say
You’re just as cute as that first high school day
When I saw you walk in and decided to wait
But here we are now and it’s never too late"
She knew she was blushing a bright shade of red
For all of the wonderful things he had said
Now enjoying the light that shone bright up above
She felt very strange, she was falling in love
"That’s a beautiful locket you wear on a chain"
He reached out and pointed, he didn’t refrain
"It must be quite special," he said with a touch
She said, "It is special, I love it so much"
He then took her hand and off they did go
The future was waiting with good things to show
She looked at the locket, then up to the sky
And whispered a thank you with a tear in her eye
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017
Able to turn a frown upside down.
That's what I'm able to do.
Too impatient to wait on anything more,
Too anxious to close the door
In the face of who knocks.
Lie me down on a bed of roses and lies,
Run the artificial promises through my black hair.
Pretend to make love to the one who cares,
When in reality,
It's nothing more than the one you fantasize about.
She don't care nothing for you.
It was me who nutured you.
Cradled you against my breast when your days were blue.
Gave you the stars and the moon.
Cried your tears more than you do.
Left you alone and held you when you wanted me to.
Taught you what you needed to know,
Stuck by you with a lumpy glue.
And do you know the atrosities and death you've put me through?
Can you count all the times I've said I could never love you
Exchange me for a that b.
Trade me in to the pawn shoppe.
Cut her up, inch by inch.
Despise me because it was my virginity I kept locked.
Hate me because I loved too much.
Kill me because I've finally had enough.
You've made your choice and stuck with it.
I only hope you can live with it.
Copyright © Kristin Monteiro | Year Posted 2005
When precious children look into my eyes
They should not see things I despise
Rather love should always be
In my eyes for them to see.
But should I fail to satisfy their gaze
And somehow in their eager minds I raise
Questions left for those who follow soon
And with their precious spirits will commune.
Let No one take these innocents astray
Or change their golden skies to shades of gray.
Let no path to riches for them be denied
And in their hearts may love always abide.
By their holy innocence we're awed
Surely they are precious gifts from God.
Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2012
In the dreary tune of a city's groan,
when streets escape the raging claws
of haggard breaths, a line of stars blink
trading some warmth with human arms...
beyond sighing notes the dusk possesses,
there are more wrists handcuffed on tainted
steel of unjust labor for children and women
who toil beyond midnight hours.
A single violin strain bites the screeches
of grief and pain, of humanity rendered
in ruins wrapped in tattered gauze: outlines
of freezing shapes coiling in fetal postures,
and they swallow a victim's blood, wondering,
if the god of freedom star can restore
power of life where mangled lungs
cry in despise.
Yet, the candle burns inside their hearts
to feed dire hunger of jailed souls
as the will to plod an inner odyssey blazes,
searching for some need to give this slavery
a voice: that birthright of choice
ordained by one divine, universal law...
the kind that fires the oneness of all mornings.
Cyndi MacMillan's I Can't Breathe... Contest
by nette onclaud
~ Currently, the Human Rights of many women
and children are violated in Asia.
There are women who are victims of sexual exploitation
under military dictatorship, and children who become
involved in human trafficking and are forced to work.
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
I, treasure you.
But, would you stay if I ever said goodbye?
Would inferno’s pilot light succumb to your tears
Knowing tomorrow’s uncertainty
Is our greatest fear?
Would my ill-timed laughter
Make you cringe in disgust
Changing your perception against my heart?
As we wade through baptismal waters of sin
Without bruises from cedar scented crosses?
Can I count the ways
You would be my exhale
When insanity chokes the living within
The living, within!
Within cracked glasshouses
Covered by umbrella’s demise
Would you come to despise
My true colors
Shaded in blues & violets?
Would I need to come to your rescue
After you’ve kicked me when I’m down?
I WOULD CRAWL WITHOUT YAWN’S FATIGUE!
I would sacrifice my Agnostic flesh
To become a new believer
I would remove my 3rd eye to present what I see in you!
I would become your contact lens that you’ll never have to remove!
I would taste degradation
Simmering in a gentle broil around my arms
And season you with my smiles
Just to make it through choke-holds of a Winter solstice!
I would become your handsome error
Hoping we can write each others wrongs!
I, treasure you.
Would you be there upon last dance’s syllabic end?
I’ll wait by this stainless steel chair.
Embracing the “never-say-never”…
…because, with you, my humanity is willing to believe in forever.
© - 4/22/2013
Submitted for the “What a Friend really is” Contest, sponsored by Becca Lucas; Won 5th place.
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013