Best Rotted Poems
For the person who waived
and lost something that was of value: forgiveness
Is it easier to get forgiveness than permission?
Admittedly, ghosts are also seen by highlights
Forgiveness requires a lot, it is a virtue to be able to forgive
Some have wandered around the earth like roaring lions
I refused to let myself be called coward without reason
But, no reconciliation without truth
do not give me an undeserved bad reputation
Lying, bitterness, nag, revenge smells dead and rotting flesh
All my expectations fade away
I disappear in the night's blackness
Losing contact with everything surrounded - by injustice
30-05-2018
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Free Verse Only- Pick a Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
3rd place in the contest
We were sisters, but more like Cinderella and the ugly sister variety ...
and of course you always made me feel like I am the ugly one!
I’ve done so much for our parents for years
but you got all the glory ... and the privileges
A house, private college education, a car
Enough money to open a bank!
You weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth
More like a solid gold coal shovel!
Everything I own I’ve worked my butt off to get -
holding down 5 part time jobs to buy my first car
I appreciate every single thing we own
You’ve lived on benefits for over 30 years
Oh and of course of bank of mummy and daddy
Yet when dad died
You lied and cheated and only thought of ME ME ME
Perhaps you should get an Oscar for your performance!
Believe me I wouldn’t swap places with you for the world
Forgiveness feels like a rotted grave ... you can rot in yours forever
Free verse only Contest Sponsored by Laura Loo
6/3/18
Apologies have the potential to be sincere,
Forgiveness is rarely sincere or realistic,
With every mistake you bury yourself alive,
One more foot deeper than before,
You can feel your lungs collapsing as you gasp for a pitiful breath,
You pray to be released from the coffin where your broken relationship lies,
Facing endless torment and torture,
Never to be allowed the sweet mercy to be put to rest,
Your mistakes will forever be dug up and rehashed,
Only to be buried once again to bubble up under the surface,
Your relationship will forever be tarnished,
Like the decaying skin on the monster your have awoken,
Who’s mouth waters for revenge and answers from your simple minded brain,
The stench of the rotten grave will haunt you forever,
Reminding you of your moronic betrayal,
This is the monster you created now get a shovel and face it head on.
June 5, 2018
Free Verse Only- Pick a Theme
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
1st Place
Now Entering - Favorite Poem Written In June 2018 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings - 3rd Place
July 23rd, 2018
FORGIVENESS FEELS LIKE A ROTTED GRAVE
Some have said that forgiveness feels like a rotted grave. Perhaps to some, that is true. But allow me to share the feeling I receive through forgiveness. Over my lifetime, I discovered that I had wrongfully hurt people along the way. Then I discovered that I felt miserable --- like being in a rotted grave. So I decided to make a list of those whom I had harmed, contact them, and make amends. The list was long and the contacts, in some cases, extremely painful. Having to say I'm sorry isn't easy and forgiveness may not be given by the person you hurt. Still, I found that I felt better after having confessed and each contact and confession came easier. Today, I have not only exhausted my list --- I am teaching others how they can obtain relief. It is only a matter of having the courage to learn to say those two little words --- I'm sorry. Conversely, hearing those same two words from someone who has inflicted pain on you is like a healing balm to a wound and it frees you and the other person from the rotted grave syndrome and allows you to walk in the marvelous light of day.
29 May 2018
For the contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Our love was like a fairytale dream,
the kind you read about in a romance novel;
we had it all, our future was bright;
who could ask for anything more.
And still you chose to have your tryst,
and toss our love to the wayward wind.
It was you who decided to walk out the door,
to cast the death knell on our love;
you turned your back on our storybook marriage,
and chose to bury it in the ground.
While you were out there having your fun,
I was left to pick up the pieces of my heart.
I was so naïve, I never saw it coming;
I thought our love would last forever,
but you tossed me away like yesterday’s fashions,
like you would old clothes out of season.
And now you show up at my door,
and ask me to forgive your indiscretions;
but forgiveness feels like a rotted grave,
and to exhume our love would surely reek.
June 2, 2018
Rolling onward, toward the goal,
Only slowing for a moment.
Take the time, enjoy the roses
That is what I was told.
Everyone told me I did too much,
Did I heed advice, no.
Fear drove me, fear consumed me,
Razed the ambitions I had,
Only for a moment, I grasped at a glimmer,
Maybe, I thought, I could touch the intangible.
Terrible, liar, I always was.
How can someone else believe, when I don’t.
Everything fell down.
Inside, I thought, inside is safe -
Nowhere is safe, failure the only option.
Somewhere, I’m laughing at my own tears,
I never knew how funny it was, to watch a person collapse.
Dread is a beautiful motivator, and a terrible mistress,
Everyone tried to warn me, did I listen, no.
She left him angry and alone
Broken and in despair
His heart a shredded bleeding mess
His feelings for her were bitter
They were toxic and cold
As he felt the knife she had driven
Deep within his lone dark soul
The taste of aspic poisonous and rife
Why had she destroyed him
Why did she tear him limb from limb
And yet deep within he knew he should forgive her
But that would feel like a rotted grave
Where his carcass twisted and distorted is
Wracked with torment with a heart full of maggots
Feasting on him like a necrotising fasciitis decay.
31/5/2018
I sat staring at the rotted fruit
Smelt the fetid citric scent
The blackened bananas
And mould covered plums
The soggy pears say their time is done
And as I sit reflecting on the fruit
I think of how this seems an apt metaphor
For me and you
Once ripe and delicious in truth
But now past its best
And leaving behind an acrid smell
Of rotten essences and an ugly sight
No memory now of how beautiful it was when all was ripe
And how the colours adorned this house this home
That now is just a building in which I dwell alone.
“If you do not forgive
you bind them to your self.”
Words spoken
by the unknowing
to those who know
the death of self.
Demon’s be damned!!!
Come
commiserate with me.
Join me
around the fire
of scorched souls.
Carry this stain,
this fearful thing,
this death
of all that was
or might have been.
Resurrect your self
remake your broken soul
escape their rotted grave.
©5/29/2018
Beige is the itch inside my head
The dreary, drab walls I stay locked in
I’m a townhouse with a freshly painted facade,
But moldy wallpaper and carpets that are soaked with the stench of cigarette smoke
I’m trapped in this house
Blinds nailed to the sills
Doors latched by keys long lost
Milk spoiled
And the fridge smells stale
I sit in musty rooms on crumbling couches as oblivious pedestrians pass by and say “What a lovely house! A sunny porch to sit on and cheerful mint green accents.”
But inside my house paint peels like shagbark and dust collects like dew
You knock at my door and I can’t let you in
I rip out the knob and claw down the splintered wood
I throw myself against the frame and try to tear out the hinges
But the door doesn’t budge;
Not even an inch.
So I stay stuck inside my beige house
Left to wonder if there is an out
ROTTED FLESH NOW I'M BLESSED
I’m of clay covered in filthy rags
I am just clay covered in filthy rags
Stinky, smelly, filthy flesh
I’m of clay and I’m here today
A hung of flesh soon too decay
Stinky, smelly, filthy flesh
In a sinner’s mess
Repented forgiven now I’m blessed