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Best Go Too Far Poems | Poetry

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Do Not Go Too Far by abdul , wahab

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disturbing dance

how it is on the floor of dance, the touching feeling sweet romance, disturbing of the slumbering lance, will he go too far this time, perchance, the question keeps arising... Don Johnson re : "A Risque Ballroom Dance" Anne Currin


Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2013


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For Cory Decker

His love is deep and desperate.
He's crying out her name.
She once showed him affection, 
but now she causes all his pain. 

A broken heart never mended, 
and promises never kept, 
his mind grew painful and insane
as he laid silently and wept.

You can't pour out your whole heart
into a love based on a lie.
You're simply running in a circle, 
if you're the only one who tries.

"We're here for you, call any time."
said all loved ones of his.
But no one else could ease his pain, 
this girl he strongly missed.

He tied the rope around his neck
and reached out for her love, 
but she rejected once again, 
and fate gave him a shove.

Was death really his intention?
Or did it go too far?
No one on this painful earth
will see into his heart.

But he leaves behind a legacy, 
a shining little girl.
May she be blessed with a heart that’s pure
in this cruel and painful world.





*Note*
Cory Decker, My man's best friend, and my best friends man, passed away on May 24, 
2008, suicide, something none of us ever saw coming! He was a great friend, and a loving 
father to his daughter, Jaden, only 5 months old at the time, who is now a happy smiling, 
almost 2 year old Princess!


Copyright © Ashley Beaudre | Year Posted 2009


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TO AN EXTRAORDINARY LADY

You are unique in all you do,
even the darkened sky remains blue:
to allow the stars to stand out
as those radiant eyes of woman
that shine more than them at night!
Dream and make wishes before dawn;
let them flee to your nearest star,
but ask them not to go too far! 


My poem is dedicated to Carolyn Devonshire
on her birthday.



Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010


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Not Gonna Go Far



My baby
is an up and coming young thing
My baby
got a lot of talent,
and boy can she really sing

My baby
got stage presence like nobody’s business
My baby
is gonna be a big, big star,
and have a lot of fans blowing her kisses

My baby
is gonna be on every magazine,
heard in every car
My baby
is gonna be a drop dead,
one big, big superstar
But me, myself ...
I’m not gonna go far

My baby and me
ain’t together no more
I sadly had to let her go,
told her to chase her dream
That’s what true love is,
that’s what it really mean
I couldn’t hold her back,
be onery selfish like that
I encouraged her to fly,
now look where she’s at

My baby
is turning into a big, big star
My baby
is quickly rising up the charts,
right straight to the moon
But me, myself ...
I’m not gonna leave
this small town none too soon

I know my baby
is gonna meet somebody else
in her star-studded world
But they better treat her right,
‘cause she was first my girl

My baby
is gonna be on every magazine,
heard in every car
My baby 
is gonna be a big, big superstar
But me, myself ...
I’m not gonna go too far

People think I’m gonna be mad
at my baby, but they’re so wrong
My baby
said I was the first one to believe
And she’s gonna remember me,
sing about me in one of her hit songs
My baby told me 
if there was anything I need,
to hit her up on the phone

My baby
is gonna go far, real far
My baby
is gonna be heard at Carnegie Hall,
and every honky tonk bar

My baby
is gonna be on every magazine,
heard in every car
My baby
is gonna be a drop dead,
one big, big superstar
But me, myself ...
I’m not gonna go far

I’m gonna be seeing the same ole faces
My baby
is gonna be seen in so many different places
I’m gonna be in this here same ole town
My baby
is gonna be jet set globetrotting all around
My baby
is gonna be a big, big superstar
But me, myself ...
I’m not gonna go too far 


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Taken For A Ride

Saville row suit with lots of loot
You start to talk - his jokes are a hoot
No wedding ring upon his finger
You hold his gaze and let it linger

You leave together in his fancy car
Passionate kisses follow – you go too far
He promises to call you like some men do
Has he just made a fool of you

You don’t know anything; not even his name
It takes two to tango – you are both to blame
Nine months later and your baby arrives
The only thing you know is the car he drives

One day you see this man in the street
A wife by his side, 2 kids at his feet
You stare at him and catch his eye
He looks at the baby and then at the sky

Jan Allison
23rd March 2014
I have no idea where the idea for the poem came from  - it just took 5 minutes to write


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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Fishing Days

It’s 5 am, we sneak out of the house
My brother and I, as quiet as a mouse
To his red bike, where I sit on the cross bar
Trusting my brother, we won’t go too far.

Put the worm on the hook, wrap it round well
Or it will wiggle off, and the fish it will tell
Watch the float as it bobs, and pull it in gent-ly
That how my brother taught fishing to me.

Always sneaking out, fishing in the dark
Racing on his red bike, we thought it a lark.
He made me dig up the worms, for the fishing bait
But I wouldn’t squeal, no, that was never my fate

Holding both fishing rods, I hung on real tight
He promised he would teach me to use it just right. 
In the river we found we loved to fish best
Often paddling in water right up to our chest.

My brother, he stopped taking me fishing with him
I always caught the fish; he said it was a sin.
Then came the day girls were more interesting than fish
Our fishing days were over, it was never my wish.

So anyone with a rod that they will let me use
I’ll sit on your crossbar, or saddle if you choose
Teach me to fish and to cast it with skill
And I’ll get your worms up, I promise I will.

© ~GG~ 14/11/2012
Contest Entry:


Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012


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SPECTACULAR

Squiggly lines in the sky become fish that quickly swim away.
Peonies bloom with bursts big and bright, making a splendid display.
Eye-popping patterns of pyrotechnics thrill the young and old.
Colors that crackle make cherry flowers that beautifully unfold.
Trails of sparks can glitter the sky in gold or silvery ways.
Aerial treats are these while anthems play; the heavens are ablaze!
Chrysanthemums, palms, and waterfalls too are capturing our gaze.
Universal in appeal, how traditional fireworks are -
Lights that lift like rockets though they never go too far!
Amazing plethora of pops - the patriot’s delight.
Revelry accompanies the grandest show of the night!

Written Jan. 17, 2016 For the SPECTACULAR acrostic contest of John Hamilton


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


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Past Participle

Life is the presence of death, but once you’re gone there is nothing left for you in the future so you live in the past. For those of us who dwell on past mistakes we become death. Time is friendly if you let it be, but don’t make it your enemy. If you go too far ahead you may become blind. Now you have become the past lost in time. It is best to take each and every breath one moment at a time. No one ever really dies; there flesh just becomes energy in our world of thought. This situation makes our future visit our past


Copyright © Sarita Brewer | Year Posted 2014


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Faffing About On Facebook

I’m faffing about on Facebook
Been avoiding it for years
What began as curiosity will
Doubtless end in tears
Hear no speak no see no
Evil learned in conversation
All that knowledge lost in
Two dimensional translation
Like me, share me, follow
All my kittens, quips and poops
See the same old tired threads
Go round and round in loops
Hang out on my home page
Scroll me up and down
Watch my ego on the prowl
Go trolling round the town
Some nights I sit upon my hands
All mischievous and itchy
In order to prevent myself
From posting stuff that’s bitchy
Big Brother sure is watching you
As are the crass and haters
Dark agent provocateurs
And dodgy mass debaters
What price anonymity when
You join the cyber race
Check out your reflection
Mirrored in this interface
Be careful what you wish for
For you may regret you’ve said it
Words that carry on the wind
Can go too far to edit
More human than divine is this
Our need for validation
Best to drink this heady wine
With cautious moderation
Pictures paint a thousand words
In galleries of minions
Words spoken once may be twice shy
Put thought before opinions
Don’t forget the Golden Mean
Steer clear of lie and rumour
And when your birds come home to roost
Accept them with good humour
I’ve been faffing about with Facebook
And I know that I’ll regret it
Nuclear power, for good or ill
... I guess I kind of get it



by Gail




Copyright © Gail Foster | Year Posted 2015


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1955 Was a Very Good Year

1955 Was a Very Good Year

By Elton Camp

A better year in my life I have never seen
Because, back then, I was only age fifteen
Nobody I knew had, at that time, ever died
Any problems of the world I could brush aside

Nearly eight millions cars were sold in the USA
And never before had they been styled that way
Seven out of ten families owned a motor car
So we ranged freely about, both near and far

And yearly pay was nearly four thousand buck
Inflation of one-fourth percent added to the luck
Minimum wage to a dollar an hour had been raised
And gas at twenty-three cents a gallon was praised

Eleven thousand dollars was the cost of a new house
About a new car at two thousand, nobody’d grouse
Born that year were Whoppi Goldberg, Jobs & Gates
Nobody would have expected their eventual fates

Of the civil rights movement I was only vaguely aware
Dr. King, Rosa Parks, Emmett Till, though, were there
Elvis Presley was then the very latest singing rage
And appealed to screaming girls of most any age

James Dean in the movie, East of Eden, was the star
But he died that year and so wasn’t able to go too far
Finding his thrill on Blueberry Hill was Fats Domino
Bill Haley, Chuck Berry and the Platters on the go 

I am not one of those old men who dotes to say
“If only it were still like back in the good old day”
Back in 1955, there many problems and great woe
But not the concern of a fifties teenager, though 



Copyright © Elton Camp | Year Posted 2012


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Darkness

Too much is on my mind and 
It's haunting me like a bad dream. 
Making it tough to sleep and,
When I'm wake when it's effecting me.
A form of fear that won't let go of me.

I wish I could run away,
But it catches up to me 
And latches on with authority.
It makes me mad that no one understands me.
Imagine speaking to a deaf person,
Who doesn't know how to read? 
Or walking blind with no one to lead.

I'd hate to find out what they really say,
With heads turned the opposite way.
Talking in code like reading hieroglyphics,
I need someone to rescue me from my insecurity.
I hate what stress is doing in me,
I'm in a dark place and it's killing me; 
I hate what stress is doing in me. 

Whether staring at my eye lids, 
Or Eyes wide open in the dark;
It all looks the same,
The color pitch black is all around.

I'm trying to keep myself,
Together and in check. 
Great at balancing many tasks, 
Without really breaking a sweat.
At times it can become too much 
Like overloading a circuit with too many plugs. 
Overpowered and burned out,
I need someone to help me out.
 
The fear of being alone and stranded,
Has got me lost looking for answers. 
The weight of fear is falling heavy now, 
The colors of death are clear now;
Help me turn away from my path,
Before I go too far on this track.


Copyright © Rich Rogers | Year Posted 2016


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Me Myself And I

Me Myself And I

Alone and yet together
through what's been and yet to be.
Me myself and I
my hopes and dreams and me.

That part of me the dreamer
somehow he helps me cope.
My dreams of tomorrow
together with my hope.

Still sometimes they go too far
and I can clearly see.
The dreams sometimes I hope for
that are not meant to be.

Nights alone not long ago
I trembled while I cried.
As all my hopes were shattered
I watched as my dreams died.

Left with me myself and I
just like it's been forever.
I whispered to the hope in me
Come. Lets dream together.

Picking up the broken pieces
casting out my fear and sorrow.
All my hopes and dreams and me
we turned to face tomorrow.

And on and on and on we go
through tears we sometimes cry.
All my hopes and dreams and me
and me myself and I.

Edwin C Hofert



Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015


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Give Me a Shot

As soon as I walk in, 
you walk right up to me;
And I know what I want, 
but you ask me what I need.
I know you're just doin' your job, 
and I'm just doin' mine,
but I cannot help but wonder if you're open, come closin' time.

There aren't many people, 
with whom, I get along;
And there are even fewer, 
for whom, I'll write a song,
but you like to hear me sing, 
and I like to watch you pour.
I wonder if there's something that we both would like much more.

Hey, bartender.  Would you wait on me?
I guess I'll just have to wait and see. 		
But I don't care if it's last call or not - 
Hey, bartender.  Would you give me a shot?

Let's make a toast:  To making the most of most.
Let us not look to see.  What will be, will be.

So, when you close out my tab,
and I ask for one more thing;
And say, "Could you call me - a cab?" 
'Stead of "Call me in the morning."
'Cause I don't wanna go too far, 
but I don't wanna go without; 
So, if I am where you are, 
please, bartender, don't close me out.


Copyright © John Taylor | Year Posted 2010


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Doggie View of a Territorial Miniature Eskimo

Hi, my name is Ollyver, and here’s my doggie view: You could call me simply “Boo” and I’d still come to you! I’m fluffy white, the mini version of an Eskimo. My human lady makes me go out back and then yells, “GO!” Sometimes she says more than that. She adds the small word, “pee.” “Ollyver, go pee,” she cries. “Just pee. Go pee for me!” Often times I’ll run about or try to dig a hole. Apparently my digging in the yard is not her goal! She calls me back and if I do not come, she chases me. Her voice bears a question and again, that dang word PEE. Inside the house, I sit near her - unless I hear strange noise, and often at the window, I’ll look out and see some boys. I start to yap. I HAVE to yap! I yap, yap, yap, yap, YAP. And when they leave, I run with glee back to my lady’s lap. I love to feel her scratch my ears and smooth my pretty fur. If someone comes too near the house, I’ll yap, protecting her. She doesn’t often give me yummy food right off her plate, but sometimes she might give me some, so anxiously I wait. I make my eyes get big and sad and whimper like a child. I can’t go too far overboard or else she will get riled! If food remains upon her plate, she scrapes it in my bowl. That’s even better than when I go out and dig a hole! There’s one thing I can’t figure out. She saw me tinkle once nearby a wall, then yelled about me pulling stupid stunts. She and her man get crazy when I do that, so I try to only tinkle in the house when it is on the sly! She takes me out to that back yard quite an awful lot. Sometimes I’ll tinkle and I always poo poo like I ought. More kids outside the window! Must I always have to beg for them to leave? I yap, and near the wall I lift my leg. Written June 24, 2012 For Tanya Harrington's "Dog Gone Tales" Poetry Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


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competition limerick

You’ve pushed the boat out once again
You’re out there on the beach
With the one you chose
 to exchange your vows
Were the best ones out of reach?

Well you’ve done it now the deed is done
So make the best of it
Treat him mean 
and keep him keen
Avoid litigious writs.

Italian life is wonderful,
 all women wine and song,
But this thing I’ll teach, 
allow him one of each
and you won’t go too far wrong

best regards
David Wallace
Competition entry


Copyright © DAVID WALLACE | Year Posted 2011


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Heckling

Joy and I have been to Melbourne and we’re coming home at last,
From a family get together that I’m glad has come and passed,
It was good to catch up with the rellies who we haven’t seen for years,
But these family get togethers sometimes add too many beers.

So that means waking in the morning to a headache and a pill,
And a promise ‘no more drinking’, but well knowing that I will,
For everybody wants to socialise, in that good old Aussie way,
Have a bar-be-cue, and telling jokes; and boozing near all day. 

Of course a hint of aggravation grows when one does go too far,
Grog tends to loosen up me tongue and so me comments are bizarre,
This causes friction in the camp, when it comes to Joy and me,
Because I can get sarcastic, and then we tend to disagree.

But it’s morning when it really hits, when me minds completely dull,
And all the gremlins at the bar-be-cue are racing through me skull,
All I want to do is find some peace, but after going way too far,
The whip is cracked, the lash it stings, and I must pack the car.

Its pay back time, and big time, for my assault with verbal taunts,
And I’m reminded time and time again for my outrageous flaunts,
It’s really just continual nagging knowing my resistances are low, 
So I’ll put this in the memory bank, and let Joy’s nagging flow.

By the time that we made Charlton, it was time to grab some brunch,
Joy’s finally emptied out her system so her nagging’s lost its punch,
And when eating in the Poet’s Café life became more civilized,
For the settings fine, the tuckers good, and nothing’s criticized. 

Back to normal now we are, that is until we enter Wedderburn,
We both discussed on getting home, but then a look of deep concern,
When Joy opened up a magazine, and is looking for her glasses,
She had left them in the Poet’s Café, and my actions Joy surpasses. 

So pay back time is quickly here, and much quicker than I thought,
It’s an hour back to Charlton, so I made out I’m overwrought,
“For God’s sake Joy why don’t you think, look at what you’ve done!”
And even though that Joy apologised, I’d only just begun.

“You’ve cost us ten bucks more for petrol, and we’ve lost two hours now,
Why did you take your glasses in there? You didn’t need them anyhow!
I’d timed our journey so the sun would not be glaring in me eyes,
How could you be so thoughtless? How come you didn’t realize?”

“You’ve got to learn to think my dear and you’ve got to stay aware,
If you take your glasses in with you, then you bring them out of there,
In future keep your wits about you, and besides … oh bloody hell!
Once you’ve got your glasses will you grab my coat as well?”


Copyright © Lindsay Laurie | Year Posted 2016


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My Fiftie's Chevrolet

A used Monte Carlo was my first car.
It couldn’t be driven so very far.
Though it had been well used, 
It did not look abused.
Less a ride than a fine objet d art.

Seven miles to the gallon, all it got.
We stopped at the gas pump, more than a lot.
Though gas prices were low,
My wages were also.
The car was pretty, its performance not.

I have had a number of cars since then.
None have made me as proud as I was when
I drove that sporty car
That could not go too far
Before a stop for a fill-up again.

By; Joyce Johnson

For Carol's contest "My First Car"
Won no. 2


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2012


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Cruel to be Kind

The cat, they say, sat on the mat,
while Johnny climbed a tree,
when reading books when I was young
that’s what was meant to be.

Now Johnny, cats, and even mats
no longer can we see
and, god forbid, the youngsters now
would never climb a tree!

As life moves on and standards change
is everything quite right,
as evolution takes a hand
do we even need to write?

I know, it seems, at school nowadays,
they don’t appear to care
if spellings wrong or writing’s scrawl
or even if kids swear.

Reading, ‘riting ‘rythmatic
foundations one might say,
no longer are the building blocks
of what is learned today.

With three Rs not important
what is it that’s now taught,
taking care of number 1
and all else counts for nought?

Independence, human rights,
as they apply to ‘me’,
if you don’t get your every need
then scream ‘diversity’.

The very things that matter most
have now turned on their head
and values of our bygone age
are very nearly dead.

How could we treat our kids this way,
it’s us who made the rules,
and thinking that we really cared
removed some vital tools.

For discipline’s essential
if we're going to win life's fight
and learning needs attention
if we’re going to get things right.

We cannot blame the children
if we do not show the way,
at times a nudge is needed
when they go too far astray.

So bring the bloody cane back
and the strap, and many ‘lines’
and teach the little buggers
and ignore their constant whines.

I am sure that starting caring
in this way that we will find
that although it seems like cruelty
it’s the best way to be kind!

Number 1 is primary,
that’s the way it is today
but with ‘proper’ education
could three 'R's return to stay?

Ivor G Davies


Copyright © Ivor Davies | Year Posted 2015


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Waves

Last evening,

Standing on the beach,

Watching the waves making rhythmic beat.


                                               Suddenly it came with wide,white grin

                                               Tenderly touching and left again.

Was about to leave,

When it said-

Hey gal,

don't go too far.

I will come back again.

And

There it was,  with the wide,white grin.

                                                
                                                   Waves so amazing.


Copyright © Mad hu | Year Posted 2012


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Silly Little Girl

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I'm not perfect. I'm only human.
When I have a bad day, I get moody and
Sometimes, I take it out on you.
But I do the best I can do.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I write too much, but I can't stop.
I refuse to pretend to be someone I'm not.
When I'm home alone, my favorite thing to do
Is turn up my radio, sing in my brush, and dance around the room.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I have a million different dreams.
I want to be a million things.
I need ten more lifetimes
To accomplish what I have in mind.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like. 
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I sing too much and dance in the car.
My friends are my world and we usually go too far,
But we're just silly little kids who love to have fun.
We won't let your dark clouds cover our sun.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I wish I could change the problems I see,
But I'm just one person. I'm only me.
I'm still going to work and I will try,
But I need you to help me kiss these problems goodbye.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.

I'm the biggest dork you will ever meet.
I laugh too much and love to sleep.
I have my own style and I hate my hair.
If you don't like me, that's ok. I really don't care.

I'm just a silly little girl
Dreaming of a better world.
I smile when I hear a song I like.
I laugh when I watch a girl fight.


Copyright © Stephanie Whitley | Year Posted 2008


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Bow-Down Bitches

There’re many bow-down bitches that talk a mean game.
Sending their sons to war, they just can’t bare that pain.
They’d rather see people of color dying on the front lines.
While theirs fly the drones, and follow from behind.
Just look at the numbers, ‘cause the numbers don’t lie.
How many black people are CIA or FBI?
We’ll never know the numbers, because it wouldn’t make sense.
That total number is likely less than five percent.
Down in the foxhole is actually what makes men.
They sing the National Anthem like it belongs to them.
Without the help of slaves the Civil War couldn’t be won.
These United State of America, there wouldn’t be none.
The Jim Crow types would shut everything down.
The law of the land is what happened to Michael Brown.
Bow-Down Bitches thrive when they have numbers.
Aiming for the back of unarmed brothers.
16% of black students get suspended 43% of the time.
From the cradle to the jail surely comes to mind.
The bow-down bitches have a genuine fear.
Because long after they’re gone we’ll still be here.
They may not see it, but God has a plan.
He’ll make known to them, who was original man.
And, just before they try to go too far.
They’ll bow down to us as the Gods we are.


Copyright © Darrell Collins | Year Posted 2016


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Flirting With Death, Gods and Devils

       Flirting With Death, Gods And Devils 

Blonde, blue eyes, tall and slim
Pretty as a picture without the wings
They go by the old names; “Lucifer’s minions”
Fellow demons on the Earth
Flirting with the boys and girls
Today, in black suits, they pray in church
Prey afterwards on lost souls
Found in corporations
They win the hearts of everyone with a wink
Gentlemen under the skin with hidden sin
As the gods they are
Never have to go too far from heaven
Gods and devils are the same
They simply operate under assumed names
We are their armies in training
Flirting with death
Is a dangerous undertaking

Created on 1/19/15 for -  “Gods and Devils” – Poetry Contest



Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2015


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Clueless

Clueless

She hangs up the phone.
Turns to her friend with a smile. 
She says "I just love him so much.
I haven't felt this way in a while.
Better still, he loves me too.
This is just too good to be true."

Oh, but honey, what you don't know would have saved you
this heartache a while ago.

You're not the only one hiding in his bed.
You're not the only one hanging out in his head.
You're not the only one he lied to with the myriad things he said.
You fell behind.
You never got ahead.
It's a sad story instead,

He looks at her with that fire in his eyes.
She's clueless that she was the source of his lies. 
Ready or not. soon to be the one who forgot.
Colder than ice then scorching hot.

Oh honey, what you don't know would have hurt you worse 
a while ago.

You're not the only one hiding in his bed.
You're not the only one hanging out in his head.
You're not the only one he lied to with the myriad things he said.
You fell behind.
You never got ahead.
It's a sad story instead.

Well what did you expect?
Something wonderful?
Something perfect?
It doesn't work that way here.
Nothing is ever clear.
Nothing is ever as it claims to be. 
That's the prize of mortality. 

Don't go too far
Don't get too close.

You're not the only one hiding in his bed.
You're not the only one hanging out in his head.
You're not the only one he lied to with the myriad things he said.
You fell behind.
You never got ahead.
It's a sad story instead,

It's a sad story.
Two unsuspecting women in all their disposing glory.

You'll be the only one hiding away in his bed.
You'll be wishing you hadn't believed a word he said.
You'll be tormented with the truth that you're not the only one 
hanging out in his head.
You'll long to get ahead.
You'll be every woman's sad story instead.

It truly is a sad story.
Yet, you're the only unsuspecting woman in all her disposing glory. 



Copyright © Sarah Herring | Year Posted 2014


Details | Go Too Far Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Help Yourself

It is a great thing to do for others
But sometimes that can go too far
We want to be a help to our brothers
But it is too easy to lose who we are

Instinctively we want to do as asked
If someone needs our help
But then we find ourselves doing a hundred tasks
We go round and round that carousel

We can sometimes feel selfish
For taking care of ourselves first
But the alternative can be hellish
When you find yourself overworked

By well-meaning friends and family
Who sometimes don't mean so well
And will occasionally take advantage
If you are having a generosity spell

I know it can be hard to decline
But sometimes it must be done
Life is yours alone to define
Don't be pushed around by anyone


Copyright © April Gabriella | Year Posted 2013


Details | Go Too Far Poem | Create an image from this poem.

freedom of the press

Freedom of the Press 

The hallowed freedom of the press
In the west
Doesn’t sit well in the east
when Islam is made fun of.
So leave them alone to worship 
Allah their way,
Millions of backsides exposed 
to an ignorant world.
We can make fun of the Germans,
the frog and sex mad Swedes 
We laugh and giggle
until someone gets up and 
hit the offender for going too far.
when saying someone’s mother
is  a **** 
Great democracy the elite tells us,
but do not go too far
and never make fun of a Jew. 


Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015