Best Discontinue Poems
Let my offender have full remorse
as he watches
his own daughter grow.
Let her never know
what he did to me.
Let sorrow
pierce his heart like an arrow.
Let the Lord soothe the wound
and chasten him with the scar.
Let repentance pour out.
Let forgiveness overflow.
Let his heart be humble
to learn the fullness of
a father's love.
Lord, lift his sin burden
like a raven in flight,
then let a dove descend.
Let him protect his daughter
from the man he once was.
Let him not live in fear
of her violation
by his or another's hands.
Let her purity be preserved.
Let his wickedness
be ravished
by mercy and truth.*
Let his heart not regard
the sins of his youth.*
Let him receive forgiveness plenty,
just as God, for Christ's sake
has forgiven me,*
and I reap the blessings.
Let him be blessed, too.*
Let innocence be restored,
and let us esteem
the name of the Lord.
Let my offender praise purity
and be a passionate advocate
for the vulnerable and abused.
Let his wife be blessed
by his new life.
If he chooses to confess,
let her forgive
and have a heart of
compassion and trust,
discarding anger and disgust.
Let repentance pour out.
Let forgiveness overflow.
Let the cycle of sin discontinue.
Let their intimacy be
exceedingly better than
what he sought wrongfully.
Let him wonder
how the offended was affected.
Let him pray that she will fully forgive,
not harboring any hint of bitterness.
Give him peace, knowing
that by God's grace,
their wounds will heal.*
*Proverbs 6:6
By mercy and truth iniquity is purged:
and by the fear of the Lord men depart from evil.
*Psalm 25:7
Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness' sake, O LORD.
*Ephesians 4:32
32 And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.
*Luke 6:28
Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.
*Psalm 147:3
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
12/7/19
Darling, will you love me still if I weren't a poet?
Will you hold my hand if I hypothetically happened
to pause my pen from poesy?
If I didn't use alluring alliterations to express my emotions?
If my soul stayed silent with no more stimulating similes?
Will you respect me if I refrain from rhyming ruminations?
Will you really care for me if I didn't use
imaginary imagism in our intimate interactions?
Will you share my worries if I were to withhold myself from writing?
Will you miss me manufacturing meticulous metaphors?
Will you caress and comfort me
if I cease to construct colourful canticles?
My handsome hero, will you accept me if I were a normal girl,
And not your special sweetheart with spectacular songs?
Will you tolerate my tantrums if my tongue terminated those tugging tunes?
Will you hold and hug me if I were to halt my hand
from creating clever, catchy compositions?
Will you value me verily if my verses vanish and vaporise?
If my muse turned morose and mum, will you still stay by my side?
If my moods metamorphosed into melancholic mysteries,
will you be mad at me or motivate me?
Will you still find me mesmerizing if making melodies escape my memory?
If I discontinued my ditties, will you discard me or defend me?
Will you be fond of me if I freeze my fingers from fashioning your fanciful fantasies?
Dearly beloved, will you still lavish me with love forever
if I were not a person to present my poetic preparations?
If I were to discontinue my direct declarations, will you still delight in me?
Oh! Will you appreciate me anyway if I abandoned my artistic abilities?
Tell me, my dear and I will stop my stuttering soul and muttering mind...
Will you prohibit my passion for poems...
or accept me as I am?
You collapse to the ground
I hurry to catch you
Whispering words of destitution, tiredness, and fatigue
You tell me you’re tired
Weary to live like this
With this illness
How it shuts every door
Pains to the core
Slowly, spitefully, you start to lose yourself
I fear that in my every soul
Tears of ache run down my sight
I yell at you, beg you at you to stop
Demand you to discontinue
Thrive for that promise of yours
Tell me it’ll all be okay
Tell me you’ll get better
Awe me with your dreams
Inspire me with every act of good of yours
Every city you wish to route every street of its
Every sunset you wish to set eyes on
Every night sky, full of bright blazing miracles
But you don’t
You tell me you can’t
And I ask of you to do that
But although that
Although every worry that ties me
Every doubt, every tear, every darkest misery
You surrender and leave
Leave me there
All anxious and terrified
Of what comes next
What is due to occur
And it frightens me
Keeps staring at the empty space
With thoughts and thoughts
Conquering
Torturing
Consuming
We began with nothing
And what’s left is nothing
But all that we began with
And it ends with me.
And I am The Lost Seafarer
With a thousand names
To take the place of one.
And I have a million reasons
To discontinue
And disregard.
And I have the taste
Of Virginia Woolf.
And maybe she
Was the culprit
And not I.
But...
It never stops until
I am the culprit,
Drowning in the friscalating dusklight.
My name has spread round the neighborhood
anytime I slip and commit the slightest miscue.
The best news caption to all ears
is when the topic centers on my issue.
Their deadly words causing much pain
as they eat up every tissue.
Refusing me all opportunity to redeem myself
as all I end up doing is argue.
Catching Rebecca red handed,
Oh my best friend, even you!
knowing how she stabs me at the back
despite being attached to her like a glue
condemns me beyond redemption
and leaves me totally in black and blue.
These stories are far from being true
and their effects on me
make me dysfunctional like a statue
When considering the root of this problem
I blame myself for giving them the avenue.
Already knowing in and out of me,
they coin their versions and heavily miscontrue.
But this has got to stop!
Swallowing this mess, is long overdue.
The satisfaction and amusement,
they enjoy and accrue
is what I must face
and ensure they discontinue.
No one can be my saviour
only but I, can come to my own rescue.
I now leave my shell,
facing squarely, those who
are dedicated to my pursue.
Goodness me! The result seems quite easy
as they all hide to my subdue.
Then I realize,
I still have some virtue.
Therefore, no one should dare
treat me in disvalue
until you start walking in my shoe
The time had come, we were agreed
To discontinue paying rents.
We'd make our plans and then proceed
To buy or build a residence.
i said an older house I'd choose.
A little house and lot would do.
The first of many fights I'd lose,
My wife and daughters wanted new.
Because of our financial state,
A giant mortgage would be tough.
I said we can't be profligate.
Two bedrooms and a bath's enough.
That sound opinion was not shared.
'Twould be the last they'd listen to.
And I was badly unprepared
To face the hell they put me through.
Each girl demanded her own room,
And two for guests my wife required.
(Her parents, harbingers of gloom,
And shiftless brother, who'd been fired.)
A living room with stone fireplace,
A finished den with vast TV,
Cathedral ceilings, (Wasted space!)
And just in case, a nursery.
The house entirely made of brick,
At least three baths and custom doors,
With granite counters, (Now I'm sick!)
A laundry room, and hardwood floors.
Its tubs so large we could bathe whales,
The hugest closets ever made,
New furniture from Bloomingdale's,
And landscaped trees providing shade.
A massive lawn (More I must mow!)
For future pool put underground,
A grill and screened-in patio,
And fence so pets can run around.
* * * * *
We've since moved in and now know how
A home affects a family.
The years have passed. I'm happy now.
We've added daughter number three.
To save on gas, I walk to work.
I carry lunch and no new cars.
My second job is hardware clerk.
I've sold my clubs and quit cigars.
Instead of crabs, we buy sardines.
No more expensive suits or gowns.
In place of steaks, it's franks and beans,
And younger girls wear hand-me-downs.
A lower temp to save on heat,
From pure-bred pets to shelter strays,
No gyms to jog, we have our street,
And no more concerts, trips, or plays.
More years ahead of steady debts,
But we're content to pay the price.
The five of us have no regrets.
We've learned to live with sacrifice.
A dream house we now occupy.
I'm feeling masculine inside.
I'm filled with pride when home I spy.
My family is satisfied.
What a tasteless and repulsive thing to do!
Using Adolf Hitler to sell shampoo?
This man was the most striking example of cruelty.
Millions died because of his savagery.
Now he is in a shampoo ad in Turkey.
Have you people forgotten your history?
Discontinue displaying this advertisement today.
To sell your product, there is a better way.
From a news story found on CourierMail.com.au
During
The race you will
Find obstacles that would
Persuade you to discontinue
Before arriving the finishing line
Walk without hesitation in
The journey called life to
Strive the goals traced
By you
1-25-2016
"Stepping Stones "
From the mind of a veteran
many demons flow... Not mine specifically. I only flirt with dark places. Like poltergeist and Carol Anne, I don't watch television after 2 a.m. I still remember when the American Flag came on letting us know "This station will discontinue." I fear sitting in the dark with a snowy TV. Two females in a tub full of jelly is not my idea of fun, so I flirt with the scary things veterans have seen but I don't actually pay admission. I'm giving you a bootleg version, never my own.
"Stepping Stones"
A current moving
at river like pace
That's not to say
it's a stream,
but mississippian
by comparison
A firm warning
not to slip in
Coast up stream
like Huck Finn
Each step is treacherous
a floating turtle shell
quite the deception
Some fall for others
to learn a lesson.
Which step to take?
Why do some make it to shore
and others...not so sure.
If I make it, how blessed am I?
I keep looking back
for my brothers who aren't coming
It's about perspective really
On one hand, I'm living in hell
constantly looking back
The other,
My brothers went to war, died, but didn't remain there while I go back every day
oftentimes
in an alcohol induced state of mind.
Their sacrifice should be a call for living but when I answer the phone & say
"Hello, who's this?"
haunting are my images
why doesn't the world follow
Ghandi's blueprint?
Once upon a time, I knew
some men with teenage mentality
They wanted to experience war.
Now they're grown
fighting what can't be undone
That's war’s ugly truth
Isn't it?
Some make it home
still focused on a rising river
that isn't rising.
Looking for a flag
that says
it's safe to turn off
the haunting
The mind of veteran, demons do not go, they're too afraid to witness the things that can't be unseen. Angels always welcome.
Stepping Stones!
These are the last words I'll write for you
The sugared dedications discontinue
Each word hatched from one mistake
Wanting you more than I can take
Intentions seem so futile now
Wipe remnants of love from your brow
Convinced you're white, so pure, intact
Lucky for me, I look good in black
So certain that you're making sense
As you speak of futures in past-tense
You claim the truth was always clear
Am I a victim of synaesthesia?
Human capsaicin eating heart tissue
A master of riddle and cryptical clues
But I've breached my Capulet attitude
These are the last words I'll write for you.
Absolute toxin; I placed within you;
Through to the bone; past the sinew;
I could not allow this to continue,
A blessing it is to discontinue,
My scent was laced heavy with chloroform;
Weather the nightmare; weathered the storm;
No longer a questioning burden in any form;
Lost was nothing; not even regret;
All of me; you should just forget
The Hated Color of the Night
By: Aidan Gilbert
When will the land of bitter discontinue us as a home
When will the dead leafless tree reach out a branch to us,
For we are equals
When will its rotted wood give us shelter from the rains of injustice
When will our pile of colorless leaves blow around on the dead grass
When will Satan give us a call to come over
Because I’ve heard Hell is better then where we are right now
Why are we the weeds that grow in the sidewalk cracks that get trampled on
When will people stop blaming me for the thorn bush that grows in my heart
When will hope become a person who lives in the shadow’s of injustice
To do works we can’t
When will black be added to the bunch of colorful balloons that float with joy
When can I have faith that my child’s life will not be sharpened or rugged
By the rock of hate
When can I not be scared
That when I go to heaven, I will not be jumped and thrown into Hell
When can we become rocks that aren’t painted
But accepted as true beauty
When will the birds sing a prettier song and the storms that follow us bring a rainbow
But I don’t want a rainbow because there isn’t the color black
When will our people stop being used as the nails
To build the foundation of the white people
When will God love me!
When can I stop crying that when we are the last people to enter heaven
We won’t be kicked out because were black
Most important, when will black become the color of peace
Instead the hated color of the night
(MLK Jr. Tribute)
STEERING AWAY FROM U !!!
Time has come for Me to depart
Its hard for Me to stay apart
Knowing that pain would just start
I kept U in dark My sweet heart
Days spent were really great
Cant forget the untimely wait
U always made sure to be late
Just to see Me waiting at the gate
Ur memories being the only medicines ,
To get rid of the loneliness
And to get away from the stress
I know, those will never expire
And would continue to lit the fire
Would miss U
From sunrise to sunset
Dream of U
From sunset to sunrise
I know,
Days would not easily flew
My love for U would never discontinue
But For the moment
I M steering away from U !!!
-------YASHU
Dear Lord, something tells me that in my last letter
I wasn't as open with you, I could've done better
There were things on my mind
That I sought
And fought
To put behind
It's difficult to paint a piece of art
Without the proper heart
But why is it on any given day, I come to you for blessings
But only end up learning harsh lessons
I feel you try to teach me
Without an effort to reach me
At the same time the Devil tries to leech me
As well as try to preach to me
Loud as a bell toll
God cleanse my soul
You're my savior I was told
Grant me life as i grow old
Every other situation
Leads me to temptation
Whether participation
In suicide or fornication
A fight inside
Between humbleness and pride
Rid me of this anger
I wish the Devil was a stranger
But he's not
The cause of my soul to rot
I'm getting so hot
Hand me a glass of cold Holy Water, and I need a lot
You think I'm reading poetry, but I'm just talking
You grin because you think I'm running to you , but in reality I'm walking
Taking my precious time
I know denial is a crime
But we on the same side
Like lemon to a lime
Spiritually wounded by the Devil's knife
I attempted to take my life
Depleted of my might
Trying to discontinue the fight
Begging for your forgiveness
I align myself with the Christians
As the Devil preys on me
I pray to you
If I lay on my deathbed, my pillow is truth
Under it is blessing money, like I lost a tooth
I'm scared so in your open arms is where I retreat to
On a winding path
To unleashing my wrath
Up to my neck in sins
I need a blood bath
But from your flesh is the blood that I need
To sanitize my heart of gluttony and greed
The first 2 attempts failed, but the 3rd may be the charm
At that moment I may not be able to grasp your arm
This is the beginning of my troubles
But they've seemed to double
Please clothe me in this cold weather
As I prepare for you, my 3rd Letter...Letter...Letter
1. Rain, Ambrosia of existence, by its showers.
2. Besides source of crops, nourishment to consumers.
3. If rain ceases, wide cosmos is famished.
4. If stormy-rain diminishes, tillage also becomes impractical.
5.Rain destroys, as destroyer indeed, preserves ruined.
6.If no drizzling, even grass appears rare.
7.Even ample ocean dries, if rain fails.
8.Ritual, festal offers terminate, if draught continues.
9.Charity, prayers discontinue, if rain offers not.
10.Rain preserves conduct, as existence by water __________________________________________
Dedicated to Thiruvalluvar(31B.C)the author in Tamil
Translated byS.Kandasamy,Musiri,Trichy(Dt),TN,India
Published on poetrysoup.com on 3-12-2013
Email [email protected]