Best Put Under Poems
As my spirit look down on the flesh,
Will it be angry or happy at death,
Will the life that I have lived be an inspiration,
Or will the whispers be negative conversations,
Will the church be full or will it be empty,
Will the tributes be 2,or will it be plenty,
Will the few that knew me laugh at me,
Or will children and elders cry for me,
Killed violently,would someone die for me,
Would my over-seas friends,really fly for me,
When "Across the Bridge"is sung,and the dust thrown in,
Will I be spotless or filled with sin,
Will the pastor preach that the Lord I had found,
When I am burnt or put under the ground,
Will my kids be comforted,I prepared for death,
Or will they be angry,I left them in debt,
One thing is for sure,death for the living,
So live your life to the the fullest,from the beginning....
A spirit flies alone there's no love true without saying goodbye
soul searching deeply without sacrifice your gone
walking golden sands inside the heart all wars are won
Hand in hand slowly strolls on golden sands footprints left
as you're daylight played warm tricks our destiny ties us beyond
put under one spell lost in lonely you one beautiful memory
Drowning inside your Heaven drifting faraway tears
to hear the winds breathless whisper softly howls out your name
holding you dream magic as your voice enters feelings flow
An aura of beauty appeared within reality coloring a rainbow
or was it just a figment of imagination never existing
strung along believing in something real
Salted from the deep ocean waves crashing currents
rising emotions turning tides weeping is it wrong for me in the scrapyard
among'st twisted metal to want to hold you love one last time
(Terza Rima in unrhymed Tercet poetic format)
A week ago I wrote a list of reasons on why I should take my life
Two days ago I have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder
Today I had major suicidal thoughts and cried for three hours
All of this happened in a span of time
Today is where I realized that I have bipolar but bipolar does not own me
I got out of bed
I made breakfast
I took a shower
I tidied my room
I drank tea and focused on my studies
I did some notes
I read my current book
But most importantly I moved
I did not stay in one place and let my thoughts take over my state of mind
My illness does not define who I am or who I will be
Anxiety, OCD, Bipolar are just a fraction of me
They are characteristics of mine that can be treated and tamed
Mental health is always so quietly put under the rug
Like clothes thrown on that chair in our rooms
If we have a cold we stay home until we get better
However, when we feel the slightest despair
Get over it
Is all we hear
When all we should hear
Is
It’s okay
Work on yourself
Get to know yourself
Learn how to communicate with yourself
Find help
Talk to someone you trust
Because getting over something
Is easier said than done
Until that exact person is in your shoes
Then there is no getting over anything
There is only denial, suffering, and finally acceptance
I will never let my illness get the best of me
Correction: I will try my best to not let my illness get the best of me
The darkest clouds will always rain
But we have the choice to whether use our umbrellas or not
Take your medications
Don’t keep thoughts inside
How devastating it is that we keep smiling our suffering
When all we want to do is scream
Scream
Scream loud and clear
Speak
Please Speak
5/25/17
Let's begin
I warned you to not mess with my kin
Yet you still did with a grin
So here I am to do you in
You're not going to win
Or get away by the hair on your chin
How are you going to swim
With no limbs
In waters with shark fins
How are you going to live
When I pull the pin
And throw it towards the exposed skin
On your shin
Que the violin
For you it will turn grim
When I cause you to be gone with wind
Are you dim
And don't you have a kid?
Shouldn't fib
Or expect others to forgive
When you burnt a bridge
Why do you got to be such a blood sucker?
Make you suffer
Worse than you did to others
A number
Of organs will be punctured
So that you eventually are permanently put under
Becoming food for organisms feeling hunger
Give you a kick and some punches
You officially can't be trusted
After displaying such corruption
There shall be justice
By you being punished
Leave you gutted
With a tool that rusted
As you die slowly or all of a sudden
A fitting end for the biggest glutton
Blood, sweat and tears
Through Christ Jesus, we can conquer our fears
Through His death, we can discover a new breath of life
His life was put under the knife
This was to give us new life
Paid in full
So you and I can fulfill our destiny and
Exhibit the magnificent Grace bestowed upon us
Death could not hold him
A new family was born and grows forevermore
He is the cure to our deceitful heart
He did His Part and
He will be praised Forevermore
Paid in full
So you and I can fulfill our destiny and
Exhibit the magnificent Grace bestowed upon us
Paid in fulfil to bring us back to him
‘ Mythology is not a lie, it is poetry, it is
metaphorical. It is the penultimate truth -
penultimate because the ultimate cannot
be put into words ‘.
Quote by Joseph Campbell.
……………..
There are no signposts here,
or a ray of light descending
from the heavens to mark this place
much less a fence to restrict
entry to a privileged few.
Just a small patch of grass,
a clump of eucalyptus trees
on slightly elevated ground,
a freshly painted bench seat
on which I can sit
to take in the view. The river
content within its wide banks,
the bay glistening under a bright
morning sun, seagulls on graceful
wings and way off in the distance,
anchored ships dozing
in a drowsy calm.
There are many such places
where you can stop for awhile
and with reverence, close your eyes
and sense the sacred beneath
your feet, feel its ancient breath
rise up out of its sleep and gently
brush your mind.
These are the well holes
of regions modernity has tried to claim,
clear of meaning and put under
the heel of commerce -
territories that were once occupied
by myth, creations fertile womb
out of which we were born
and came into being.
This place still murmurs
that past, the songs of making
still beckon the storyteller,
the artisan and the poet
to give it voice once again,
a home in the rooms
of our humble art
and speak its sacred name.
My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played,
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.
The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.
I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,
So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth,
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.
Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.
I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.
Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.
The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.
The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.
So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.
That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.
The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.
more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com
Ah be careful, so careful my friends
be careful before you go getting involved
Isn’t it strange how we sometimes get swept up
swept and sucked into a life event by sheer chance?
After attending to the baby, I glanced to my right
and spotted something in the median grass
Closer now, my stomach churning again
A young Latino man laying on his side
breathing fast and shallow, obviously in shock
coughing up blood with little clumps in it...
A biker and his girlfriend had stopped
We called out to him, ”You okay? Hey, you okay?”
(Yeah sure guys, just thought I'd catch a few winks)
The next person to stop was an off-duty ER nurse
(Stay here with him while I check on the others
and whatever you do, DON’T try to move him!)
”Oh sh-t! I forgot, has anyone called 911 yet?”
(I called, said a man in an orange jump suit)
Rush hour traffic was starting to back up on both sides
I would guess at least twenty minutes had passed...
The young highway patrolman was calm and relaxed
“Is an ambulance coming?” He nodded and pointed...
At least a half mile away we saw the flashing lights
but the median bank was too steep to drive down
(You two are going to have to help me with the traffic
Divert everyone out of the left, northbound lane)
Absolute chaos...
Some drivers got confused and stopped
The biker and I started waving and shouting
which of course, only made matters worse
One grouchy old fart laid on his horn and cussed
(We flipped him a sign that had little to do with peace)
45 minutes and counting...
The ambulance had to park on the shoulder
Two sweating, rather nervous looking ladies
rushed to the back and pulled out a stretcher
(Would you two gentleman mind giving us a hand?)
They immediately escorted us to the young man,
took out a weird contraption with a tube and a bulb
and inserted the tube end down his throat into his stomach
(Find something to put under his head while you pump!)
“You got anything on your bike?” (Uh-uh, don’t think so)
My wife’s blue denim jacket was laying in the back seat
“Sh-t! I’m gonna RUIN the damn thing! Oh well...”
We took turns pumping. I kept turning my head away
(You okay bro?) “Just a little queasy” (Yeah, me too...)
All I need, groceries
This may be my last meal
If living is a gamble
You know just how I feel
I have not seen light
For a time span far gone
What is now weakening
Had once built me strong
The empire of nothing
Alone in my own thinking
Never second thoughts
When it could be sinking
Money seemed a friend
We just became too close
What does it buy here
When I become your ghost
Led astray, put under
Aired out as if some rug
Treated like I became
A pestilent, trivial bug
I never fought enough
Hoping dreams held truth
Imagine how revealing
It is being living proof
As the nightingale sings so do I follow.
I'm filled up with joy and no longer hollow.
When the day lights up or the dark does fall
the weight's been lifted and I'm ten feet tall !
This face I see always in my dreams
is just as beautiful as it seems.
Love like this is just why I prayed;
in the eve's half-light it's why I stayed.
Day's slipped away and night lies glistening.
In the fields of my heart I'm quietly listening.
There's a sound like peace and passion like thunder.
This love's a fine spell I've been put under.
We'll traverse this world together-then sleep.
Now devotion's a promise we both can keep.
Jesus, The Man-God of Sorrows
This King that was born in a stable
entering His created world in the humblest of means,
had His angels proclaim His birth to mere shepherds
and not to princes, queens or kings.
He came not to rule the first time
or cause men to be put under His thumb,
and He wore no crown or regal robes
yet He opened the mouths and loosed the tongues of the dumb.
Most certainly this was the King, yes the King of all kings;
that came humbly to this earth,
to free as many as would come to Him
and would be willing to obey His Word.
But, His created men whom He bore pleasure as He formed
them by His own Right Hand,
had become a pawn in the hand of the devil
who wanted to pervert and stop His most blessed plan.
Many a time they tried to kill Him by throwing stones
or pushing Him off the top of a hill,
but Father God would protect Him because that kind
of death was not in His most perfect Will.
So they jeered and scorned and laughed as he was
preaching and teaching His Word for you and me,
this blessed Man of Sorrows Who left
the Glory of Heaven to die for us on a tree.
How the angels must have cried as they watched from behind the scenes
and as His Father turned from Him His head,
our precious Saviour felt all alone
yet He triumphed in His agonizing death.
So soon and very soon we will see His face
shining as the sun so fitting it will be,
for this time He will not be shamed, mocked or scorned
for He will come to rule and reign throughout all eternity.
Written by: Marilyn S. Jennings
December 22, 2014
I’ve gained some weight and I can see my beard is turning white,
To get the kid’s presents put under the tree I stay up half the night.
In order to read the tags I have to wear my reading glasses,
My wife just brought me a tray of cookies that she baked with molasses.
Now I can see that I need to work on my list of character flaws,
I have to be good because now it seems I’m turning into Santa Claus.
There was a time in my young life that I was so cool and slick,
But now more often it seems that I’m confused with ol’ St. Nick.
I could fight it I suppose and try to pretend that it’s a pack of lies,
The more I think about it though; I might like a sleigh that flies.
Mix the packet contents with fresh cream and milk
Boil and stir the mixture until it’s a smooth as silk
Pour into ramekin dishes and leave it to set
Don’t reach for the spoon – it’s not quite ready yet
Sprinkle on sugar and put under the grill
When the topping is bubbling just leave it to chill
Reach for the spoon and break through the crispy topping
Crème Brulee I love you – my spoon wont be stopping
Jan Allison
9th April 2014
Written after I made a packet mix crème brulee dessert on Saturday.
I need to get my sister to buy me supplies as I purchased it in the UK.
We don’t have this particular shop on the Island - I should really have a go making it from scratch
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 57
The use of force to protect the weak the hungry
A Zapata whose righteous anger boils bounds
To set right an injustice the peasant to free
Is that violence that must be put under key
Whose anger Madero’s peaceable laws confounds
The use of force to protect the weak the hungry
Had not Steinbeck’s Wrath in the Land of Plenty
Set free Mao and Castro’s masses from their hounds
To set right an injustice the peasant to free
Who came to Kazan’s rescue Mice and Men stand free
Hang honour Hang power Hang the world out of bounds
The use of force to protect the weak the hungry
In Steinbeck’s words Can a man whose thoughts born angry
Bring peace to a world where laws of peace obey hounds
To set right an injustice the peasant to free
Who kills not to feed whose young who cry when hungry
Yet Krishna urged Arjuna take battle field grounds
The use of force to protect the weak the hungry
To set right an injustice the peasant to free
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
When the Boss Says, “See me”
By Elton Camp
Abner eyed the sticky note on his report with unease
In twenty years with the firm, hadn’t seen one of these
Grapevine was saying the boss had a nephew to hire
But before he could do that, someone he must fire
Could Abner expect, for his work, a sense of loyalty?
He knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would see
Trembling with fear, he sat in his little cubicle for a while
Trying to collect his thoughts for when put under trial
After a bit, he decided that he couldn’t put it off anymore
As if walking the last mile, he stood outside the boss’ door
Abner rapped on the door and the boss called him in
Boss didn’t shake his hand & there was no trace of a grin
“Fellow, I’ve been checking your work last month or two.
And I feel that I am required to tell you what is so true.”
Abner took a deep breath for what he knew would come
He was about to be put on the road by that pompous bum
At his age, it might be impossible for him a job to locate
And to have to tell his family was what he did most hate
“Abner, even more than in the past, your work is outstanding.
So it is a promotion, private office, and raise I am handing.”