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The Best Golden Child Poems

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I'm very small
I am called Standing Tall
My story to be read as i live through it all.

Our Dakota lands are forest and vast
Where our ancestors have hunted
From long in the past.

Our tribes are, a confederation of seven
With our language of Lakota, Sioux heaven
We stand proud as we remember our past
And look to our gods, to make it all last.

A silhouette on the prairie hill i see
This shape in the distance is new to me
As we sleep in the night, we hear guns and blows
We arise from our camp, to look for the noise
We creep on the prairie to their surprise
Under the moon, where the land would flow
No longer the Buffalo.

We mount our ponies to challenge these men
What gives them this right to kill and maim
Bodies of beasts, furs cut away
Missing heads, a ghastly slay.

On reaching their camp our bows stretched
Arrows screech, hit the wretched
Watch them fall to the prarie floor
Just like the Buffalo did hours before.

Years have passed as we are moved from our lands
These poisonous men, and their poisonous glands
Bringing illness fever and strife
Ending many a Lakota life.

We reach a point in History
Which made the white man sit up and see
Their Golden Child General George Custer
And the Little Big Horn, my what a disaster.

Arapaho, Cheyenne and us Lakota too
Sliced the Blue Jackets, their Scouts too
The US Cavalry would have their glee
At the Battle Of Wounded Knee
Where Siiting Bull would finally rest
Standing Tall's story last's the test
If we Indians had the same resources
Like the silhouette on the hill
These praries we always had. would be ours still.

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009

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A freestyle poem

I'm curse with pride the golden child surrounded by scream and cries.

Standing tall I refuse cry speaking the truth I don't believe in lies.

Raise in the streets but yet I still can't stand the heat my mind wondering I'm in too deep.

Right now my words is my only drive I'm ducking death so through the night I creep.

Carrying the world on my back the heart of a G standing tall while I face my enemies.

And because of my pride you will always remember me.

Because I believe in loyalty so I will always represent for my family.

Cause to me their love is like heaven to touch and I need  their energy.

But why is this world fill with misery why can't we live together in unity.

It's time for a change and we can start by changing our community.

Copyright © Dion Bess | Year Posted 2009

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Mother Nature Mother Board

One sister is wise
And infinitely older

The other is recent
And still learning

At one time she
Was admired and respected

But now the golden child
Takes all the love for herself

With waterfalls she
Creates a rainbow

The other uses pixels
In which we can view anytime we like

One kills thousands with wind and rain
To gain attention

While the other
Simply shuts down

One was original
Appearing at the very first

The other was a jealous girl
A half baked idea

The hippies will eat all organic apples
on their way to the Apple store.
At the same time we poets type on our keyboards,
"And oh how the seagulls soared."

We can't pick our family.
We love them both.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2014

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Miss Sunshine was her sobriquet, and she the golden child 
All through her happy infant days she wore that winning smile 
She loved the colors nature gave, but, sensitive and shy 
She suffered from the thoughtlessness of some at junior high.  

So music was her salvation, she practiced all the while 
And breathed new life into sad songs with unique wondrous style 
And harmony came naturally, with shades of dark and light 
As with her painting and her song she kept her spirit bright. 

    In the Valley of the Nightingales, by peaceful waters there 
    That sylvan voice of honeyed cream still dances in the air 
    Gifted by the shooting star with heart and mind so pure 
    The softly spoken blue chanteuse too fragile to endure. 

Then morphine -laced to ease her pain and lifted to her chair
She sang out What A Wonderful World and left pure magic there
Adored by friends and family, her last performed goodbye 
She graced the notes with perfect pitch and heard her angels cry. 

She never got that little house, dreamed of, by ocean's roar 
She never sang out to the seas from treasured golden shore 
Perhaps a choir out of sight down some yellow brick road 
Is led by Eva clothed in white, in Toto's fields of gold. 

    In the Valley of the Nightingales, by peaceful waters there 
    That sylvan voice of honeyed cream still dances in the air 
    Gifted by the shooting star with heart and mind so pure 
    The softly spoken blue chanteuse too fragile to endure. 




Copyright © Louis Spence | Year Posted 2013

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Different Dream

After a hard day at work I come home
Hear my boy rapping the words to his headphones
Every bleep comes another bleep
As he keeps dancing to the beat
Come upstairs and barge through the door
Say to him, "Boy whatcha listenin' to that for?"
As I rip it out of his ears
Turn around and look in the mirror
Get ya head outta the gutter son
You talk to ya mother with that tongue?
Ought'a lean you down and wash your mouth soap
Teach you a lesson and just barely make you choke

Dad, you don't understand
This is me, this is who I am!

Boy, you freeze it right there
Just so I know we're good and square
I'm your father, sit down when I say so
This is home, this is where the green grass grows
Can't be the one to follow you where you go
Can't take you as is and just tie a little bow
Around it and be happy
You ain't what I expected you'd be
After all this hard work to bring home the bacon
Just to come home to see the fuss you making!?

Imma be big and travel the world,
Be famous and get hooked with any girl
I'm tired of this rice 'n' beans, I wanna taste some of that green!

Stop it child, you making a scene, a mockery of ya ma and me
Do yourself a favor and dream a different dream

 The strings are for those with charm
And fame are for those holding cards
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream
Billionaires are cowards in disguise
Their careers built upon money and lies
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream

I remember when you was little
Your mind was like some twisted riddle
Rapping the lyrics
To your idols, Snoop Dog and Jay-Z
Acting like you knew what they meant
But boy, you could barely read
Spittin' rhymes don't put a roof over ya head
Or clean the dirty sheets in your bed
All those fancy clothes don't give ya fame
just brings your family to shame
Look at you playing life like it's a game
Joining all those gangs just to bleed
Gettin' high and smokin' weed

Dad, it ain't like that
I'm not some filthy rat
Planting my seed wherever
Imma stay true forever
Build myself upon lyrical tether
Striving to be as authentic as leather
Come on dad, can't we get it together?

Your grandpa was born and raised in the meadows
No Internet, no microwave, just planting corn rows
But right now the grass is as green as it's gonna get
And if you ain't got that through ya head yet
As your pops I'm really quite upset

 Take these words right from my mouth
And give 'em wings to fly south
Or I will run from this house like the ratatouille mouse
Tired of this cheese I want something more
The birds and the bees aren't what I'm looking for
I don't wanna die like everybody else
Just put in a hole and call it a grave
I don't wanna die with nothing to my name
If I'm not looking up I'm going south
You can scream and cuss at me with ya sailor's mouth
I'm still leaving and I'm taking the dangerous route

The strings are for those with charm
And fame are for those holding cards
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream
Billionaires are cowards in disguise
Their careers built upon money and lies
Your inner core will just burst at the seams
They say play it safe
And dream a different dream

Here I am, standing in this trailer
In your eyes I'm a failure
For wanting to travel the world like a sailor
From Beverly Hills to New York City
At this point I don't even care if you're with me
I may have augmented my hopes a bit too high
But I was tired of looking through telescopes, that habit can die
But dad look at me now
No longer in a small town
Can't be modest I have to boast
I'm traveling the world from coast to coast
In everybody's head is my riffs
And I wish you were here to see this
Swallow your pride long enough to shed a tear
Remember what you used to say, "Turn around, look in the mirror"...?
I wasn't no golden child and you weren't the perfect dad
But come on now, that's a thing of the past
You can ditch your bacon, eggs and Jimmy Dean
Live in luxury in your fields of green
Come on dad, won't you dream this different dream
with me?

NOTE: Words in italics are from the son's perspective, words in normal font are from the father's perspective, and words in bold is the chorus line.

I'm not sure where the idea came from. I was on a camping trip, heading back home, and all the sudden this whole elaborate story came to me and I started writing it all down on a notepad (back then I didn't have my Kindle Fire).

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2013

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I'm Special Too

I know I'm not perfect and make mistakes.
Yes, I'm temperamental and things may break.
My moods are intolerable; this I agree,
but why is it so hard to accept and love me?

Your only daughter and a bond should be,
but this we’ll never have; I now finally see.
You choose your favorites and criticize me,
while all I’ve searched for is love from thee.

I no longer dwell over who you “think I am”,
coming to my senses of a mother's loving scam.
All my loyalty and love has never been enough,
as motherly caresses are still callously rough.

Thank you mom for lessons, on "how to be a mom".
Watching observantly your lack of motherly charm.
I’m special too mom, although you may disagree.
I’ve discarded the longing of an unheard weeping plea.

You have your golden child, who can do no wrong.
Then your baby; co-dependently feeding him all along.
I’m the mediocre child; invisible to those beautiful eyes,
turning your back on me, not hearing my painful cries.

Don’t be proud and love me for the creation you did make.
I’ve exhausted all avenues; my need for you was my mistake.
I still love you mom, although my heart is torn apart,
but I’m a woman now and it's time for a fresh new start.

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2008

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First Date

I met him in the town's local cafe 
A young adonis working the railroad line.
Long blonde hair, eyes so blue,
with a strong muscular body too.

He asked me to meet him the next day
Agreeing, this became our first date
A local fair was in town that day
Hand in hand we made our way.
Together we climbed a high hill
To watch the horse races run
He leaned over and kissed me long
My heart went flop and it was done.

Young hearts giving it a try
a few moments between a young girl and guy
That first kiss from this golden child
All  thoughts began to run wild.

It ended at the fireworks that night
He was leaving with the morning light
The first kiss, remembered forever
The first date  an extreme pleasure.

for Carol's contest  

Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2011

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NFL Golden Child Injured

Finished before start Colts fans leap from Bandwagon Peyton Manning's hurt

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011

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Resurrecting Poems from Death

Every time and anytime,
i mistakenly delete or loss a poem 
that i have sweated so hard to compose

i feel like,
i have lost a golden child,
but after couples of struggling to retrieve back the poem, 
from the land of lost poets,

I normally eventually get it back, 
this always happens formally abnormally,
that it keeps me wondering,
Why and how come?

And i notice that,
God always purposely makes me to loss or unintentionally delete my poem,
so that I could write it much better, 
and it always gets way better.

But the first informal vanishing feelings,
is always so bashing and banishing, 
that if one is not wise, pushing and strong,
that would led to the dearth of a new born poem.  

I try to quench,
but I can't bench,
for the toughness of my poem,
never let me remain in softness

because it only deletes from the laptop, paper and surface, 
But it never deduct nor abort from my brain

It dances continuously,
like rainstorm in my brain, 
non-stop, till it is conceived again,
through ink, then it winks happily at me 

This makes me feel like a poetic Hero,
who goes to battle with no sharp armoury,
but with a pen, paper and sharp  memory,  
and still wins the vigorous war,
which blocks the resurrection of his poem and the success of his sharp vision.

Copyright © femi joey oloidi | Year Posted 2012

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Sleep, New Year

Sleep, New Year …..

      Sleep New Year, in cold Winter’s frozen grasp.
      From deep slumber dream of the coming year;
      Give Old Winter's end to March’s last sharp gasp,
      Let playful Spring banish false Winter cheer.
      Past the equinox in chilled slumber’s dream
      Tell the year’s gifts, set in harsh Winter’s hand,
      Which, given to Seasons in turn, will scheme
      To let bold Summer play upon the land.
      Then, in her turn, show fair fragile Autumn,
      Golden child of Winter now come of age.
      Dream New Year, in blanket of cool mists cloaked,
      White shrouded against the harsh season’s rage.
      Foretell, when the tired and ageing year wanes,
      How spent seasons pass and then sleep again.

Copyright © Barry Stebbings | Year Posted 2017

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'The Lost Generation'

Claressa Riddle
                    “The Lost Generation”
      As being black it’s so hard to see the struggles in life we’ve been through, 
through the deaths and pain, the hurt the strain and this is what we are left to? 
They fought so hard in the battles, from slaves’ master on their horses’ saddle. 
Now we sag and brag about who has the newest shoes, who will fight and who 
will lose. Dr. Martin Luther King didn’t get shot for nothing and Rosa Parks didn’t 
stay seated just to be strutting. We had it all and now we have nothing. We may 
not be the richest race, but we can be amazing, we can be Holy, grateful as 
grace. We are what we act like, my generation is just full of fools, they cut school, 
break the rules and think it’s cool. We kill one another, it does not matter mother, 
sister or brother. We destroy what’s beautiful, disrespect our elders, this 
generation is not the future, elders don’t have anything to look forward to. Sad 
their grandchildren are running the streets, skipping school, having sex at this 
age you are headed for the worse. Fourteen with a baby that’s two, got a baby 
daddy who don’t want to have or take care of the baby or you. And boys, who treat 
girls like toys, use and play with them one day, then move on and play with the 
next play toy.
   And you wonder why people judge us and label us rude, that’s how we act like 
hooligans, like fools. They worked so hard and now were letting them win, the 
people who said that we would never be nothing. Well I’m something, I’m a piece 
of work my ancestors fought for, I won’t give in to the stupid ways, I won’t fight, I 
won’t be this generation’s slave. We’ve got to step it up, because this is all we 
have left. You may let them win the battles, but I’m a fighter and they won’t win the 
war. Stand confident, smile, for you are a beautiful golden child!

Copyright © Claressa Riddle | Year Posted 2007

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A Happy Ending - Dark and Twisted

One day I was in a hospital,
witnessing human birth.
I took in the repulsive, beautiful sight
as Earth's population grew by one.
A tiny specimen, ready to bring eternal joy to the world.
Innocence flourishing in front our eyes like a rose.
But lacking pricks.
Little hands reaching for life's essence
in every extension of their arms.
The fragility of their bodies
and minds.
Molding a masterpiece of humanity
and morality is the goal.
I know every parent looks into their child's eyes,
and sees potential glory.

Persevering through trials of the storm,
trying to find that guiding rainbow as it forms.
Triumphing over all obstacles to find that golden treasure.
Instead of metal, they found a golden child
to instill them with pleasure.
The one who makes dreams a reality,
and blows away nightmares in winds of charity.
But life isn't always a wonderland.
Around every corner exists potential quicksand.

In another room of the hospital,
there's a man with cancer.
He has a lovely wife
and 2 daughters, one's a ballet dancer.
His wife, beside him, bears the image
of a statue chiseled by needles and pills.
She numbs the pain behind shady thrills.
In another room is a woman who's a victim of time.
Right place, wrong time, struck by a stray bullet
in an attempt of a homicidal crime.
As blood trickled from her spine,
thoughts flowed through my mind.
What kind of world is this we yearn to live in?
In actuality, life may be the curse
and death may be the blessing.
At least while we're young,
ignorant and innocent, we have sweet bliss.
But when time accelerates age,
we're all touched by the Devil's kiss.
It lingers throughout the rest of our days.
Until feelings of happiness leave us dazed.
And blinded by Hell's smoky haze.

I have no desire to see such a delicate
and warm creature turn stone cold.
Most try to maintain morality,
but the sun doesn't shine until the attempt folds.
I refuse to watch that epidemic unfold.
So I fill my hands with that child of gold.
The infant cries, I smile and bring the loud noise to a halt.
My desire is her suffocation.
In the end, I'll know that
she's happy and it's my fault.
She'll find eternal bliss where freedom comes without a fee.
Life comes with a price, but death comes free.
At least hers will be without the woes
that life makes us endure.
And as a bonus, she won't have to deliver
a victim cursed of life's lure.
So tonight, I'll rest peacefully bound to individuality.
The good deed is done, and I'll keep trying to maintain my morality.

Copyright © m.n.i.w m.n.i.w | Year Posted 2015

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sacrifice a priceless question

A little story from a little friend about a little thing
That makes the little world a different from the taught mighty ocean
Always smile beside me each morning i sat to reason
Mostly he always bring the little insignificant story
To my reasoning ear as i plan to break too quick
In this little world i know
My father told me one day a story
When i hate my little sister so much
That i had to sell her gold,
Her priceless life for some foolish pleasure of hate
There my sister termed me hell
But in her rage my father rather speaks a story to us through her
A bird hatched a golden child
The future saviour for the world of the sky
each moment of her life
She had lived and gathered all the flying feather
To guard their golden future of the air world
Although her faith made her believe that through this golden child
A golden sky world will be built
The child destiny is even made to be seen in all the sky world
Unknown to her, the child must die
That has become the golden price, a golden save
The golden actualization of a glorious destiny
One golden morning, the golden cock goldenly announced
The golden death of the golden child
All fair feathers never understood the sound
But the heir mother knew the message
The world is doomed, she shouted
Our world is doomed
We have to fight for the glory and honour of our world
Our future is no hope and our end is now
We need to save our golden future
But to all the sky host feathers
No enemy or attack was seen around the corner
There the glory of the golden child lifted him up to be executed
The golden price, a golden heir, for a golden future
There the voice of the mother speaks in terrible oar
Yes, this is what i said, here the golden child
But inside my belly
There are so much gold that can change the world you see
Taking the golden child
And taking the golden world
Which stands better than the eagle?
Please, take all the gold in me
And spare the life of the golden child
Let him live for our world to live
There my father hissed a deep smile in anger
With a confused expression written all over his face he concluded
Gold is not life
But life is gold
Never sell gold because you will not know
When you are selling life.

Copyright © CHUKWU DABERECHI | Year Posted 2011

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There was a universal entity
Given a human body and made hungry
Star charts withered at mothers teat
So baby could eat, the baby eyes went bleak

Golden was the child with a sense of purpose and belonging
A strong hold had been made in his feeding
Safe from the father who had not carried him,
He mistook it for the angels who could no longer see him 

Until one day he unlocked original sin
It's not doctrine nor dogma its the savage deserved in the father and the masculine
And what the father did that day was irrelevant
The child was fixed on the malevolent

Golden child was now a furious magician, a pubescent Merlin
Once adored by his mother he now had to fight for his position
He knew his doom would come
This child magician welcomed it so he could die and be born again

He studied the father
Though at times the father hated him
He learned to falsify
So the father would get along with him

Like any true magician he felt cold his future situation 
Like any magical person he prepared and did not indulge in diversion
And then like a memory
He died on the cliffs of the abyss and fell in fully consciously

It played with his morality and mortality until words were not satisfactory
It played with his sense of vision and derision until his eyes were lesions
It played with his touch until he was crawling and cut
It played him so hard that magic was used to pull him out

Incarcerated humiliated and dark the warrior marked his heart
He stood and began to take part
He smashed the chin of the biggest of them and took beatings that required many many men
Until his body felt his own, he liked to feel the work it had done

He broke free the fighting pit
And went in search of the lovers that would heal his fists
And like all stories with a twist, He found that meaningless
And fell in love with a witch

She nursed his warrior, She nursed his magic
She told in the loss of the Golden Child was tragic
She created his lover And he was forever true
Until suddenly he had children... just like you

Copyright © Luke Goodman | Year Posted 2019

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My Golden Child

In the furnace of her belly deep
The makers spell is cast 
My Golden Child is set to sleep
'til mother shines her last

Only through her deathly leap
My child comes to pass
My Golden Child to make you weep 
With craving wanton grasp

She's a heart breaking
Bitter mistress 
My Golden Child is hypnotizing 
Such dazzling beauty you can't resist
You can't resist my Golden Child 

In her reflected glow your hearts go weak
A white flag up the mast
My golden child you'll want to reap
Seductive poison passed

Copyright © Simon Herbert | Year Posted 2012

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My Falling Rose my Mother

First breath Sep 2, 1931 and a special child with a heart shaped like a rose named Emma is born into this world.
This special child develops into a beautiful woman with an old fashioned tea rose for a heart and her body takes the form of a garden.
Emma crosses paths with Romeo who falls in love with her garden at first site. 
Emma isn’t just a beauty in the eye of the Beholder but also smells nice and is easy to care for in a world full of spoiled flowers. 
Romeo has a heart full of love if it was gold would be 24K to give the right woman when it comes to love 
he is blessed with a heart  that is part Hybrid perpetual inside his heart to show the special love he felt 
for the first love of his life which was his own mother.  
A Hybrid Perpetual is also known as a different breed of Rose. 
Romeo had the right balance in his heart at birth which was part 80% lover known also as a gardener 
and 20% fighter which made him the catch of a lifetime for Emma.  
Emma and Romeo got married and when they said I do God blessed Emma and Romeo that special night with a union of 2 hearts in the form of a Hybrid Tea Rose also known as rose royalty for Emma to keep in Heart till death do them part.  
The years were special for Emma and if you could look at heart would see 
she had many AARS moments also known all All-American Rose Selections over her life time. 
Heart’s Desire Oldest Daughter Ana
Secret Pink Second Child Alma
White Knight Third Child First boy Romeo
Double Delight Red Child 4 Raul
Honor White Child 5 Roel 
Whisper White Child 6 Rogelio
Love & Peace Golden Child 7 Rocky
Petal count  52 this represents weeks. Thickness of each rose petal  4 mm each mm represents the different seasons.
This would be the same thickness has two $1 presidential coins. Emma is the first lady of Romeo’s world.
Weight of each rose petal 7 grams the same as holding 3 pennies in your hand.
If you ever wonder where the phrase a penny of your thought came from its from your mom .
13 thorns to represent the lunar cycle which helps a mom known which days she is most fertile.
Flower size would be the size of hand closed. 
In Emma case would be the weight of 156 pennies. That would make Emma’s heart 13 ounces.
A man’s heart weighs 10 ounces and a woman’s heart weights approximately 8 ounces.
Fragrance strong, fruity and citrusy.  Her final breath Sep 17, 2014 may you rest in peace in the garden 
of love in heaven.

Copyright © Rogelio Munoz | Year Posted 2014

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The Dream

I’m startled,
by a loud voice,
in the middle of MORNING!
I wake up,
 to someone,
 yelling and MOURNING.
Screaming and CRYING!
 Yelling the words, he’s too young,
 to be DYING!
His mother’s crying,
 I thought the young dies GOOD,
 how can this God,
 take my child from the HOOD!
Yeah I know he didn’t do,
 all the things he SHOULD, 
with his life he COULD,
have done so much more with his TIME!  

Did he have to be shot,
by a NINE!
If it was a life,
 you wanted, 
you could have,
 had MINE!
Please reverse this DEED!
This is my son,
 you didn’t carry this SEED.
For almost a YEAR!
 I loved him so DEAR.
 Please God,
keep him HERE,
With me!
 This is my beloved son!
 The one whom,
 called me MOMMY!

I know,
 he did not have a DADDY.

I know we had to ride,
 in them broken down CADDIES!

 he is my BABY!
 My sorrow, my PRIDE.
 Please God! 
Don’t take him,
 to that other SIDE!

I will not let GO!

Hold on my CHILD.

Then she goes into a TRANCE…
NO…… NO…. NO…
My brother can’t GO.
He haven’t yet,
had a chance to GROW!
He haven’t yet,
all the seeds he wanted to.
Although he had some PLANTED!

I told him,
life is what you make it,
but don’t take time, for GRANTED!
I know, my kid brother thought he was the golden child,
and that his life, was ENCHANTED!

God I know, I sometime didn’t heed, the death ANGEL.
God save him!
Let this cup pass over my brother.
As Jesus wanted, way back WHEN!

I will make sure, 
he repents, 
and turns from, 
his life of SIN!

Than the trance happens AGAIN……
No not my MAN!
No not my MAN!
He can’t leave ME!
For I am carrying his BABY!
I am his beloved LADY!
Instead of him, 
You can have ME!

I woke up then, but I didn’t understand! 
Why did I dream this? 
So, I wrote it, in my daily JOURNAL!

This Was What My Son Wrote.




Copyright © Spidey Williams | Year Posted 2006

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If the voice in Heaven did speak
His would be the last true voice
To speak and command me to be well
I was born with a broken heart
That formed an invisible shackle
Not fixed by the servant of Heaven
Necessitating a flight to the unknown
Offering a life of hardship

Eager and dutiful daughter
Halo firmly in place
Daddy's dark eyes, and silent smiles,
His large hands so gentle,
As he drew the brush,
Through my hair, soothingly
Qualities that link by link
Chained me in silver shackles

Aged fourteen and now a teen,
His booming voice reverberating through the trees,
Brought forth a deep trembling,
That now feeds the fixation,
For shoes, with clasps like shackles,
And designer shoes at that,

Not quite a woman, at eighteen,
No longer so dutiful to Daddy,
Homeless and isolated, despairing,
Demanding a sacrifice and a maturity,
His love replaced, by marriage,
Sensuality, motherhood and a grownup love,
I switched alleigances, and shackles,
That brought the slave girl to the fore.

Years passed, faded in time,
Twenty-one, Twenty-two and Twenty-eight
DEATH, Death and Death again,
As each child was buried,
In tears and grief,
Scarred my broken heart forever,
As the shackles of iron grew heavier,
Upon my soul.

Time passed and Daddy aged,
Life had exacted a harsh price,
The broken heart now His,
Bearing witness to Heavens gate,
Then His call to come home,
Instantly obeyed, casting off the shackles,
So much for tears and tearing apart,
Traded off to become once more His angel.

Once again willingly by His side,
Life turned topsy turvy,
As Daddy became the small lost child,
The stars in the sky that night,
So beautiful, create another shackle,
Forever, etched on the soul,
Like the sound of the water on the moorings,
As He passed from this world.

Thirty four brought more tears,
Some of immense joy,
A marriage, a son, finally *gasp*
But alas, iron clad shackles formed
As more death, more agony,
Forced a inner retreat,
Forty was a good year,
Another son was born for me,
Golden child, golden shackles.

Today another tragedy,
Dear G*d I miss Him,
And the sons that all lay with Him now,
Beside the second set of deaths,
Of lost baby grandsons,
Enslaving me to this place,
Keeping me dutiful, constant, obedient,

If the voice in Heaven did speak
His would be the last true voice,
That formed an invisible shackle,
Silver light shackles sometimes,
Iron heavy other times,
A willing slave in shackles.


Copyright © sera phim | Year Posted 2016

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I'm Special Too

I’m not perfect and make mistakes
Yes I have a temper and things may break
My moods are intolerable; this I agree
But why is it so hard to accept and love me?

I’m your only daughter a bond should be
But we’ll never have that; I now finally see
You choose your favorites and criticize me
While all I’ve searched for is love from thee

I no longer care what you think I am
I no longer care; your love has been a scam
All I’ve done in life has never been good enough
Your motherly caresses; still always being tough

But thank you mother for the lessons on how to be a mom
I’ve watched obediently; your lack of motherly charm
I’m special too mom, although you may disagree
I’ve thrown away my longing of an unheard weeping plea

One is the golden child; the one who can do no wrong
The other is your baby; codependent while feeding him all along
I’m the mediocre child; always invisible to those beautiful eyes
How could you turn your head in vain, not hearing my painful cries?

So don’t be proud and love me for the creation you did make
I’ve exhausted all dead end avenues; my need for you was my mistake
I still love you mom, even though my heart is torn apart
But I’m a big girl now and the time has come for us to depart

© Stacy Lynn Stiles

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2007

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If I Go Before Farewell

If I Go Before Farewell

I was the harvest of the black hooded Specter of Death
Caught by surprise He stole my last breath
His Scythe cut me down mechanically with dispassion
My heart lost it's rhythm, my color became ashen
As I was turning to dust,my eyes had gone blind
Just another Marcher in the Parade of Mankind 

I raced in the sunlight as a golden child
I sang and I laughed but mostly I smiled
And then walked as a man with prowess and pride
Only to wrinkle and gray and finally died
And freed of my earthly bonds forever
To live in the region, the region of Never

The sun shall  kiss these cheeks no more 
The river my companion as I rest on Wye Shore
I leave without regret as I had a good run
I did things my way, I beat my own drum
The mysteries of life no longer in doubt
Now I know what the the meaning of life is about.

It's about friends and children and the woman I love
It's about music and poetry and the good Lord above
It took a lifetime to realize the best is simple and plain
My woman's beautiful face and the smell after it rains

Good food and wine the setting sun in the sky
The laughter of your children and a new baby's cry
The touch of her hand and the perfume of her hair
The taste of her lips , her serene face while in prayer
Her purity of Soul, the charity of Heart
The soft touch of her hand and the depth of her smart

All these pleasures in life along with the pain
Will pass into Eternity as tears in the rain 
And to my friends I thank for sharing your time
I loved you all, you were all sublime

And now to the Ages is where I presently dwell
This is my destination before bidding farewell

Copyright © Richard Childs | Year Posted 2017

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In the flesh

Life in the gutter
the metaphor ive become
suffer for you to string me along
step by step
showing you mans plans test for god
in the flesh
showed up for his mistake
walking circles in happiness
too busy to do this for free
paying the piper with another crime of your century
jesus has obsessive compulsive disorder
eventually blindly you will see

the hit of the century
the nightmare over
taken from you like a thief
who am i now anyway
confusing these realities
golden child of latent powers
something you will eventually see

life got out of bed for your birthday
reality not always so kind
who was there at life's birthday
in the flesh, in spiritual dreams
the joke of life im out to fail to become
the one song we sing keeping us amazing
step by step changing the smal things

where did this all start anyway
what are we supposed to say today
three days are all we have to work with to show our maker we believe
killing time and crucified by ignorance is truth
what is the right thing to do
amongst the waves of confusion

here they are in the flesh
level one of how we all belong will take you higher
here they go
shaking the glitter
taking themselves to where they are destined
back in the limelight of life
life in a stranglehold
failing its own lessons
of self defeating tortures
scared of the neverending circles

metaphor for a prayer
metaphor of life
mankinds wil to do good
step by step
from the gutter to our finest dreams
In the flesh a phenomenon
childlike latent powers

Forgotten script of the world meeting their maker will be remembered
holy ghost in training
hole in the plot, the humming in your head
is the piper paying you for his vacation

eventually there will be less distractions from this

Copyright © Troy Jeremy Nelson | Year Posted 2010

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Eleven days before Christmas, as we were singing, " A Child Is Born"...
fluffy snowflakes came down and they were as big as white popcorn.

Surprised mom yelled, " Run to the window, they are more beautiful than snow flowers
and daises... " Go, catch some into your warm hands and dream of Bethlehem's stars!"

Astonished as those shepherds watching their sheep under the starriest sky,            
we saw pretty snowflakes not a wondrous star followed by the three Magi.

They kept on falling and floating like dry leaves on a December's cold evening...
when carols were played on a church organ that was taller than any ceiling.   

Merrier than angels announcing Christ's birth, we stared at His bright stable...
and what we felt was the humbleness of a King whose love was so ample.  

Once again, we ran back to the snow-dusted window and looked into the quite sky,
among the gleaming snowflakes: a golden child appeared asking for a happy lullaby. 

Entered in Francine Robert's contest,
" A Winter Couplet "
My theme: First Snowfall

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2011

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Hollywood Homework

Since im an overbudget million dollar man
i should know how to act out one of the perfect lives
three of them a part of a matrix of pulling off a utopia
what life lessons do these actors need to act out
for the audience to understand which part of the holy plan we are at
which part of the rapture for peace can we all act out
the golden child metaphor no longer leaves you walking a red carpet grave
the hand you are dealing yourself you learn to stack your own deck

Muse of inspiration of such an elaborate plan
of writers, singers actors, working together in unison
step by step
scene by scene of three perfect lives that pull of world peace
the big plan for the planet to watch the show, and cheerlead them by song
if you have a job or are alive
either way you are hired to do this
a plan you cannot fail
because you will get it eventually
the world is a stage
welcome to the planet

Copyright © Troy Jeremy Nelson | Year Posted 2010

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Gold Child

Golden Child
your smile 
lights up a room
turning a day of rain to a day of gloom
your mind
no wonder why you’re smart
You learn more than what life demands
My dear
Your heart is so big
You’ll ease every one with their fear
People smile and laugh when your near’
Your sweet, your dear to my heart 
Your beautiful as the sunrise eyes,
Creative as a work of art,
Warmer than a fire heart
combine and make you, you
No one can do the things you do
When you walk
Dirt stands up and walks away to let you through

Copyright © Josnica Paul | Year Posted 2005