Best Drew Poems
I can't watch a happy ending,
Guy gets the gal,
Girl gets her pal,
I can't do it with out crying.
Maybe I'm like you,
maybe you cry too.
I'll tell you why I do,
will you tell me too.
I never got mine.
Said I'd be fine.
That was just a line.
I feel alone...no sign!
I've heard nothing from the sky
that somehow I'd get by,
survive until one day I'd die,
without my piece of the pie.
I never drop a tear or two,
it's much more like a bad flu.
Flows out of me without a clue.
My pain has never left, it just grew.
That's why I cry when I see love on the screen,
it's love I crave, that one woman and no screen.
That's why I want to have the love I've never seen,
love that lasts a lifetime and not just on the screen.
when my wife and i were in love...before
she became my ex...every moment of
every day i would live her... i had the wings
of pegasus the strength of samson...i had
the conviction of ghandi...the vision of
van gogh...i was different then.
love anchored me...both feet on the ground
i was rooted...focused...i was...
but enough of the hyperbole...
i was happy!
real love does that...links us to the better
part of life...
i was naive...
it didn't last...
she cut my hair...
took away my strength...
while i was thinking forever...she was
thinking it's over...i was all in but she held
the better hand...i lost everything!
i would draw hearts with my finger
on black tinted glass on rainy days
or nights...a contract i should have
never signed...
i was a mythological character...everyday
the crows would feed on my flesh...on my internal
organs...slowly...painfully i died...
than every morning once again alive...
and again the crows would feed...
sometimes things are so transparent...
they don't need proof...they are self evident.
it is better not to challenge the heavens
...i accept my fate hold tight to my faith.
I can't watch a happy ending.
Maybe I'm like you.
I never got mine.
I've heard nothing from the sky.
I never drop a tear or two.
That is why I cry when I see love on the screen.
21~12~2014
With Love
Maurice Yvonne
R.I.P to the big cuz drew… Never did I think I would ever loose you…. Not this early in life…. I would do anything
to have you in my sight…. Them guys that did that stuff just aint right…. I mean they had me up crying…. They
had to be lying…. Its too soon for you to be up in the sky flying… I look to clouds up above… Wishing I can give
you one more hug… Push and shove… Never let you go… Cause I love you cousin just had to let you no….
I picked up my pen and tried hard to write,
words simply failed me and I drew a blank.
The harder I tried the worse it became
Where are the syllables when I need them?
Not a limerick or rhyme will appear …
my muse has gone on her spring holiday -
when she will return I have no idea!
I’m sad, how can I enter a contest
that I have little chance of placing in...
Oh well, I guess its another N/A
to add to my expanding collection.
N/A in contest finalised on 6/2/16
05~31~16
The line in the sand which we drew in my bed, do you recall how we drew them, the things that we said? Was it just hot air to keep my balloon afloat, rambling and kidding before grabbing your coat and dropping an anchor to try sink my boat before disembarking?
The line, those words, full of promise and hope anchored me in a storm, my heart crashing on the rocks of harsh disappointment, trapped and abandoned. Oh but for my resilient, stubborn soul, which refuses to be tied down and stay in the harbour waiting for another voyage to abound. I am as tall and proud as The Royal Clipper and on every strength i will raise my sails and use the storm to draw new lines which you can see where it dragged that anchor back out to sea, i am free, no longer your nonentity, i am woman and deserve more you see.
Good luck on your journey, watch out for the storms, always look for the lighthouse, it has saved me.
Drew Brees threw with ease
For Who-Dats to please
But never encroach
Upon the head coach
In spite of their pleas
she lit the candle,
watched the wick kindle
but as the flame burst forth
the wind by windows fought-
But alas! the flame, stabbed
wavered for life, but sabbed
soon faltered and died.
The drapes rise and fall
the wind hurries at four wall
and another match lit
by its glow she saw it-
The pale face, withered smile
there lies her heart, off a-mile
away to the towered end-
Yet still the flame died astern.
The scream through the night-
the call of the wild a-flight
as a heart is stabbed anew
by the despair of Maria Drew.
I drew a line in the chalk
I tasted freedom
I touched the moon
I saw the air conforming around human nature
I danced in bliss
I smelt emotion
The sweet aroma of artificial joy
I drew lines in the chalk
I drew lines
But these lines become permanent
The lines in the chalk became the lines on my soul.
These lines didn't make me jovial
But caged my mind
I drew lines
To set trapped insides free
To dance in the sky
To become light
To be wind
I smelt only what I could see
And what I saw were lines
A gradual flow of red streams
A visual art form of relief
I drew two lines
But they weren't in the chalk.
But I was an artist
Through the Pit's mouth she saw it-
Inert body prostate, lightly lit
the pale face staring up, hollow eyes
the cold waters, the mud, the mice.
Through the pit's mouth, she gaped down
Her heart about to be listed afar,
In the fate of the quiet traveller.
O Benson Drew! O Miss Drew!
If only she knew-
There pours the tears and anguish
Here escapes insanity and gibberish.
Watch her! watch her! Watch...
Reach out! Catch her! Catch...
But Alas, she drops ten feet below
For the arms of the fallen Moor.
I want some excitement in my life,
Other than just day dreaming all my life.
Thinking about the past days,
Where trust was the biggest maze.
Now all I can think about is my past fallacy,
When I thought friendship was easy .
When I thought life would be simple,
When I thought solution could easily be kindled.
Though not everyone can have a life of Tom Sawyer and Nancy Drew,
So stay strong and learn something new.
Follow your dreams too,
And excitement will come running to you!
This thorn drew blood and regret
Lingers inside my heart, deeply set.
There's doubt that it will ever cease,
Caught in a web, without release,
Entangled among a silken net.
What a price I paid to end this debt
Of suffering that causes me to fret.
I must find a measure of peace.
This thorn drew blood.
I wish that we had never met.
Memories I cannot forget.
You felt the ebb of our caprice,
My Jason, I your golden fleece.
Our love was lost when faced with threat.
This thorn drew blood.
Arranging his pens, he thought to himself
She said she wanted me to draw her love
and showcase it at my art show next week
Abstract or traditional...what to do?
I could try to capture her bubbly smile
She is effervescence personified...
Or turn my canvas into a mirror
to draw her eyes, ah...there would be her soul
Can her love be seen in flower blossoms
So many types of petals and colors
A sunrise may showcase her love's luster
Though beauty may be found in a sunset
Sunset indeed...he decides what to draw...
Art show opens to much paparazzi
They can't wait to see how he drew her love
Big reveal...and she can't quite catch her breath
He says... Breathtaking huh? Hard decision...
Focus on the rapture you used to give
or on the desolation I feel now
Yes, I know...you don't love me any more
Surprised? Only because I know the truth
How cruel to request me to draw your love
How can I draw what no longer exists?
So, that being the case, I drew a blank...
5/12/16
There once was this girl named Betsy who lived on my block. This chick was so ugly she looked like a rock. She had two big titties and a scar on her thigh. She had a really big nose and only one eye. She use to mess around with this guy named Drew. And this guy was ugly too. He wore thick glasses and had really bad breath. He had a body odor that smelled like death. Late one night on November the third. Betsy was in her bathroom disposing of a turd. When there was a knock at her door that only she knew. You guessed it right. It was that ugly old Drew. He had a bag of weed and a bunch of crack. All bundled up in a brown paper sack. When she saw what he had she dropped her draws quick. But when Drew smelled her coochy he got really sick. The room got really funky and flies fell to the floor. He tried to make a run for it but he couldn't get to the door. When both of their odors hit the air there was a chemical reaction. The coroner said that both of their noses looked like Michael Jacksons. When Betsy and Drew took that breath it was their very last. The moral of this story is you got to wash your ass. c. R. Mendoza
Promises
Your promises that I had all trust in
lay quiet as logs of unbreathing woods,
Till wantings of my soul rose as fierce storms
to impute life into the forgotten,
Today you walk with me in moonlit night
as longings lay absolutely tranquil.
Written May 27th, 2016
In Iambic pentameter
For contest by John Lawless
The line I drew
becoming shorter
and shorter
as I become older
and older.
hes a big fat pig
it was bad enough on who's line
now he's on daytime