Best My Own Poems
On My Own
It is early in the day for most.
I am just going to sleep. ‘
This will make many people angry.
But at times, I just don’t care.
I wish that I did.
A glass of wine, a pill from the doctor.
That is not enough.
Soon, it is a second glass, a second small tablet.
I have to keep up to everything; that is expected.
I have done so for so long, I don’t remember…
any other life.
Others hurt too. I see. I watch. I listen.
Everywhere, pain. Suffering!
Then there is that moment, you ask yourself???
“Do I like me anymore?”
(All drugs, alcohol or “other” should be taken in front of a mirror.
You need to see for yourself what things are doing to you…legal or not.)
If the answer is not hopeful…
then the problem is great indeed.
The burden heavy, the measure of it,
only “You” know.
Oh, and Him.
Friends,
Hope is sometimes right there.
In front of everything, seated in the best place.
Yet we “choose” to walk on, the path unknown,
Careless, reckless and dangerous to ourselves,
and even to others.
If that is happening, or worse has happened?
You have been given permission to go back.
“He” died to make it possible.
You can make it right.
It is a gift.
You are valued. You have a place.
You are loved.
Categories:
my own, abortion, absence, abuse, addiction,
Form:
Narrative
Sometimes when I write, I tend to stretch the truth.
Same as when I gossip; I've done that since my youth.
It's not so much deliberate, but to tell a story well,
Folks tend to stray from tedious facts to magnify the tale.
This habit's often utilized a bit, I have surmised,
In speeches heard at funerals for loved ones eulogized.
By writers of the news I'd say it ought not be employed.
But “doozies” can be found inside almost any tabloid.
I think, for my defense, especially writing nonsense,
I need to find the place to get my own poetic license.
I pose to you this question- In my practice as a poet,
If I get myself a license then, to whom should I then show it?
for Let 'er rip (the mention of poetic license made me want to do this one!)
Categories:
my own, humorous, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
Along this season’s mid quarter-time,
I find myself wandering between
The raw of night’s wanton pleasure
And the sacredness from morn awakened:
Late evenings replay a dancing fire
when each hour blazes thrilled adventures
daring the self to run with passion: jazz music
gyrating through city lanes, sauvignon kisses
from love’s rendezvous, the late communion
with this artist's brush—an expressionistic glow!
The Poet's Own for Greg Barden's Contest
8/29/2017
Categories:
my own, adventure, life, self,
Form:
Free verse
My own proverb.....
Dream with your words, make love with your pen
And create an art of poetry with your soul.
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
All rights are reserved @ 2016 Ravi Sathasivam
Categories:
my own, philosophy,
Form:
Haiku
In the middle of my own small world I stand,
Both feet planted firmly on the land.
Gold is the sun in the sky.
Oh, that I could fly!
Then you see -
I
Would be free!
Earth-bound, though, I sigh.
I'll remain so till I die.
Knowing that out there is something grand,
In the middle of my own small world I stand.
Written 2/5/15
Now for Joseph May's 'Andaree - 11 Lines' Poetry Contest
Categories:
my own, life, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
Some people call it breakfast which makes me snicker and giggle
It might have been since it starts with a pancake or two
except then I add extra things to make it into a dessert.
At the very least I add a pacakage of vanilla pudding,
a teaspoon of cinammon, a quart of fat luscious blue berries
Then I lavishly sprinkle it with a cup of brown sugar.
Next I add.....
Bananas, chocolate syrup, maple syrup,
Caramel syrup, and of course I top it off
with half a spray can of whipping cream. When I eat
all of the whipping cream off, I use the rest of the can.
When my masterpiece is finished no one would suspect
it ever started out as a couple of simple pancakes.
Except my family who have started making their own
concoctions - each starting with two pancakes.
Categories:
my own, food,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes when I’m alone --
I start to think ---
Had I not been an addict ---
What could I have been?
What kind of life could I have given my children?
Of course these are questions not yet answered ---
A work in progress so to speak
Not a day goes by ---
That I don’t think about doing a shot ---
To release myself from this pain, shame and guilt
Because when I’m high I don’t think about any of that
I think only of myself ---
What I want and how I’m going to get it
I thank the Lord ---
For delivering me ---
From that way of thinking ---
I thank him for the gift ---
That gives me the chance ---
To reach out to others ---
Almost every poem I write ---
Comes from the bottom of my heart ---
And the very depths of my soul ---
Very seldom do I allow myself
The pleasures of writing a simple poem --
That doesn’t carry with it a very profound message
See, I’m just like Jake and Elwood Blue’s
--- I am on a mission from God ---
God has transformed me into a poet teacher
The only way I can make any sense out of my life
Is by doing what I’m doing right now
Which of course is ---
Nothing less than ---
---Owning up to my own mistakes ---
For the world to see
Thus allowing me to answer
--- The responsibility of my own pen ---
Categories:
my own, introspection, life, on writing
Form:
Free verse
Poetry to me is my legacy
Poems I write to live on endlessly
So like it or lump it
I’ll blow my own trumpet
And leave them to historic supremacy.
Categories:
my own, art, confidence, future, hope,
Form:
Limerick
wrap your arms around me a little too tight
let yourself be the noose that ends my life
tear ladders in my tights while holding me down
pull a little too hard and drag me to hell
take my heart, its in the center to the left
its yours, my darling, take it right out of my chest
clutch my hand a little too roughly
shatter my bones and call me lovely
take me to the Eiffel tower, guide me to the top
hold me from behind and give me a gentle shove
rip my ribs out with your teeth, one by one by one
play them like the grand piano, show them how its done
lather your lips with venom, careful not to taste
kiss me until my last breath, simply watch me break.
Categories:
my own, abuse, anger, betrayal, depression,
Form:
Free verse
Too long spent in deep shadows
prevented my eyes from seeing
why the lights were so dimmed
why I had the need for freeing
Verses written by candle light
but not signed with my name
with one step out of the shadow
my first poem went up in flame
No lack of inspiration to fuel
a captive poet's sensitive ire
he reached for my written words
I torched their corners with fire
A ray of light through a small crack
the dungeon door he didn't close tight
stimulus kept me awake and writing
penning until darkness of the night
Words of anguish and freedom I wrote
morning shadows danced on my face
he came once more to taunt my soul
he who buried me in this tomb-like place.
He reached for my writings on the table
I stubbornly shook my head, turned away
clutching my night's work to my breast
I bravely said, "I must see the light of day."
Carried from the cavern's earthen ground
I looked at him near the edge of the river
he reached again for my treasured verses
into the rushing water, my writings deliver.
Hands covered my face in fear of reprisal
his strength brandishes strikes with clout
eyes shielded from the sun's blinding rays
I waited for him to take his thrashing rout
No clobbering fists or slaps given in anger
no harsh threats to bring forth my cries
no monstrous shadows looming over me
freed from my shadow by opening my eyes.
Categories:
my own, poetess,
Form:
Rhyme
YOU'LL NEVER WEAR THE CROWN
NO BETS YOU'LL WIN THE RACE
NO MEDALS ON YOUR CHEST
NO TROPHIES FOR YOUR FACE
NO ONE COULD EVER LOVE YOU
YOU'LL NEVER MEASURE UP
DON'T EVEN BOTHER TRYING
YOU'LL NEVER BE ENOUGH
THESE THOUGHTS SWIRL IN MY HEAD
I'M DROWNING IN SELF DOUBT
THE FEAR TRIES TO CONSUME ME
MAKES ME FEEL LIKE I DON'T COUNT
I HAVE TO BREAK THESE CHAINS
SEE THE BEAUTY INSIDE ME
NEED TO CHANGE MY OWN PERCEPTION
I'M MY OWN WORST ENEMY
I WAS JUST A A LITTLE KID
WHEN THESE FEELINGS GOT THEIR START
THE OLDER ONE WAS PRETTY
THE YOUNGER ONE WAS SMART
I WAS NOTHING SPECIAL
WAS JUST THE IN BETWEEN
A SHY CLUMSY TODDLER
THEN AN AWKARD NERVOUS TEEN
MET WITH LOTS OF BULLIES
AT THE SCHOOLYARD ALONG THE WAY
THEY SENSED MY INSECURITIES
THAT I WAS EASY PREY
EVEN THOUGH IT'S LONG AGO
BAD MEMORIES FROM THE PAST
IT'S FUNNY HOW HURT FEELINGS
ALWAYS SEEM TO LAST
I'M SO TIRED OF FEELING USELESS
LONELY IN SUCH PAIN
SCREW THIS INSECURITY
JUST TOSS IT DOWN THE DRAIN
I'M PROUD TO STAND IN MY SHOES
I'M PERFECT IN MY WAY
AND I KNOW THAT ONE DAY SOON
I'LL BE STRONG ENOUGH TO SAY
I HAVE NO MORE FEARS
I'VE RELEASED ALL MY SELF DOUBTS
I'VE CHASED OFF MY DEMONS
REALIZED THAT I COUNT
HAD ENOUGH OF FEELING WORTHLESS
LONELY AND AFRAID
NO MORE GOING BACKWARDS
IT'S A PROMISE THAT I MADE
Categories:
my own, angst, encouraging, hope, inspiration,
Form:
Ballad
My own proverbs.......
' Make your life rich with compassion and not with wealth'
- Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
All rights are reserved @ 2015
Categories:
my own, philosophy,
Form:
Haiku
They come to me with their tall tales.
I pretend to listen to their fables
Appropriately sad, I say
It's well my sister.
Everything will be fine
I say it like I truly mean it.
The truth is,
I have my own problems to deal with.
People throw banters and enquire about each other
They act like they mean well for you.
Can I get a little change from you.
I haven't paid my school fees.
My rent is still outstanding
They turn their backs
And say
I have my own problems to deal with.
We love to talk about ourselves,
Who will listen
Who wants to listen to your problems
Half of the time your talking, their mind is elsewhere
Halfheartedly paying attention to your rants
At the back of their minds, they scoff
And say,
I have my own problems to deal with.
Thank you for listening you say gratefully
My dear, your welcome.
Anything for you, they lie
They roll their eyes behind you
Who wants to carry another person's burden
Who wants to listen to your secrets?
Who wants to keep your secrets by the way?
I'll pass they say,
I have my own problems to deal with.
Categories:
my own, truth,
Form:
Ode
" If you need food on your table,
always try to earn it"
- Ravi Sathasivam
Categories:
my own, philosophy,
Form:
Haiku
My own proverb....
“Your eyes are the light of your heart and do not make your soul dark”.
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
All rights are reserved @ 2017 - Ravi Sathasivam
Categories:
my own, philosophy,
Form:
Haiku