Best Sticks And Stones Poems
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But your lies will cease to hurt me
You think that you have finally won
But don't think I'll let you burn me
I'll sit and smile and make you think
I know nothing of what you do
But secretly I'll make you see
The last laugh will be on you
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But your decet will hurt no more
You won't see me cry a singel tear
As I watch you walk out that door
Don't think that you can go astray
And plan on coming back
I don't believe in forgiveness
I'd rather have a heart attack
My love for you has slowly died
I buried it today
I built a wall around my heart
To keep all men away
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words can break much more
They can take your heart and leave the pieces
Shattered all over the floor
Sticks and stones, never hurt them bones
Names, cut him to the kwik
They hurt so deep, for to make him weep
More than any club, or stick
See the sun won't shine and it won't be fine
And it won't all fade away
And it don't seem right, that he has to fight
A world that calls him gay
So he'll hang his head and he'll live his life
While his soul is torn in two
Spend his teenage years, with his straight-laced peers
And a heart, so black and blue
The taunting in the classroom
The whispers 'round the bend
The vision of a cold tomb
Oh! will it ever end
My love it's not so different
My dreams are pure and true
Why do you stand in judgement
Of a heart, so black and blue
If you are cathedral of consecration
I'm the voluminous chime summoning souls
If you are the moonglade mountain peak
I'm the fedora of snow atop you
If you are the bantam flame of hope
I'm the mammoth lantern you sit in
If you are the magnificent crown of laurel
I'm the koh-i-noor glowing your majesty
If you are the whorly petals of the gypsy-sue
I'm the daggerlike thorns of flaw
If you are the bard of the Zambezi
I'm the first sonnet of your anthology
If you are the mythical firebird
I'm the scarlet embers of reincarnation
If you are the forsaken pirate ship
I'm the glubs of your drowning
If you are the ancient persian pearl
I'm the millions carats speaking your worth
If you are the sacred vial of eternity
I'm the gluck to the kingdom come
If you are cathedral of consecration
I'm the open arms of the door of mercy
only sticks
the bare will be
covered up soon
leaves that will bud
come alive
and make me feel
young again
2/27/2023
Those stupid words
The anguish they cause
So carelessly used
Without second thought
No sharper, these blades
Which stab from the tongue
Leave scars ever deep
The damage is done
They scrape off all skin
Bury under the heart
Tear down the soul
Ruin innermost self
Carving the pain
Sliced up so small
Pieces now lost
Scattered the wind
Build up, start again
Memories, new
Strengthen yourself
Look up at the sky
Ignore the noise
Breathe in the air
You are so perfect
Just as you are
***
June 14, 2017
Copyright © Chris Green and Darren White
As needles on skin.
Mimic of rain on glass.
So are the razor blades,
of words without class.
As venom on tooth.
A winged creature's sting.
Of cutting knife's speech,
No good thing can bring.
As a lover's betrayal.
A friend turned foe.
Things tend to follow,
like vocabulary's blow.
As stones meant to build.
A substance from which is fed.
Take care what is chosen.
Rather, whats needed to be said.
-Angel Fatale-
Nothing is turning out like I wanted it to.
Everything is now black and blue.
Wrist cut up with a sharp blade.
Blood rushing out like it's being made.
Thoughts of death running through my mind.
Nothing is clear to me, I am blind.
What's going on?
Scissors are suddenly being drawn.
My end is near.
I can see it start to appear.
What you thought were funny jokes.
Made me want to choke.
Prank calls, blocked messages, statuses all calling me names.
You all have caused me so much pain.
Whore, ****, *****, cow, fat, ugly reappearing in my head.
I don't know what to do anymore but lay in my bed.
Who am I supposed to turn to?
I have no one but you.
I dream at nights about not being here anymore.
I don't think I'm a whore.
I have a plan now.
Explain it to me now.
I've got a gun.
It's all been done.
I'm leaving now.
Goodbye everyone, Goodbye forever.
STICKS AND STONES
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
Every epoch has its own bone chilling word
Causing great trepidation when ever its heard
If you wanted to destroy a group or anyone
This choice word would get the damage done
A thousand years ago it was heretic or heresy
Accuse if you had a grudge or coveted property
The catholic church was aware of dogma revision
So in circa 1232 the pope authorized the “ inquisition “
It started out as a process to unify the church
But morphed into a system to extort and besmirch
Corrupt authorities held trials on their own
Their final verdict guilty, was predictably known
The papal trials were mostly honest and fair
If found guilty the accused could pledge his repair
To follow the teachings and dogma each day
Do penitence, pay a fine and swear never to stray
Locals were more drastic with penalties applied
Burned at the stake even if the person had died
Males were accused of fornication with succubus
Females willingly sleeping along side the incubus
No one was safe from the envious of being accused
Tortures with painful devices were commonly used
Confessions obtained with torture an outright farce
Easy to admit anything with a hot poker in your ****
Forward to the present, does the devil even exist ??
We’re too sophisticated to believe in satanic trysts
But we want our own word to accuse and destroy
Being politically correct is the perfect ploy
One word can make anyone cease and desist
Just point your finger and yell “ racist”
Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But words will never hurt me
Obviously the man who said that
Never heard all the terrible things
That those kids said to me.
Stick and stones
Will break your bones
But they will heal faster
Than the words that hurt me;
Who ever said it the opposite way
Must of never been bullied like me;
Pretending to be strong,
Just going along,
Trying to sing a song.
But the words, they cut you like a knife
They made you,
Hate your life
And as a small child than,
You still understood
The cruelty of adulthood.
They called you names
And tried to beat you up in vain;
But the bullies never prevailed
You had caught them by their tale
And than the names stopped
And all the beatings they gave you dropped
You never got hurt again
But sometimes you still wish you couldn't make it to the end
But you kept treading water baby
No bullies could get over you love
For you are stronger than the heavens above
You are,
So loved
They will never look at you the same way again
The bullying has finally come to an end
Sometimes I don't know why
you cause me heartache and pain,
there are days that go by
where you drive me insane.
I have my feet planted
firmly into the ground,
no matter what you do
you can never knock me down.
You can hurl your sticks
hit me with your stones,
but I'll come back stronger
more than you've ever known.
I'll win in the end
so go ahead, call me names,
sticks and stones may break my bones
I'll never again, play your stupid game.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Dec.9/2015
I don't know where this one came from.
An ominous childhood rhyme
Recited as an incantation
To veil truly hurt feelings
Sticks and stones
Indeed are much less painful
Than the unkind
Callous
Cruel
Words
A sting from a stranger
A rack from the beloved
Sticks and stones
Create wounds that bleed
And wounds that bruise
But blood clots
And bruises disappear
But words
Like daggers puncturing the heart
And battering the mind
Stay with us for
An uncertain duration
With delayed or absence of healing
Even a word not meant
Carries the same anguish
As a bullet unintended
And even if one survives
They are forever changed
Alas
Each word has much weight
The weight of heavy iron
'Tis follow to abandon
Thought and reason
In uttering the slightest phrase
For a thoughtless word
Lethally leaves the mouth
As does an inflamed missile
It can never return
And it is too late to avoid calamity.
Stick's and Stones
May break my Bone's
But I wonder if you will ever know ?
Or how it feels ?
That your Cruel Words and Taunts
Will haunt me to my Grave ?
Donald John,
I'm troubled by how you describe
your detractors,
Those who stubbornly refuse to see you
as Earth's Messianic Protagonist
and Good WarMongering Business Guru.
For example?
Fake
Not quality
Coward
Elitist
Not Truly Elite
Poor
Traitor
Unclean
Unmanly
Jealous
Loser
Alien
Whiner
Cripple
Parasite
Not SuperElite
Need I go on?
No. Those sound familiar
as bullying words
used against me
when I was even younger
and not yet well-endowed.
Do you think,
now that you are the USA's
four to eight year CEO,
It might be safe
to turn these internal bullying voices off
by turning your non-violent communication skills on?
I wasn't aware
I have such skills
for WinWin
Both/And dipolar comparison and cooperation
rather than WinLose bicameral competitions.
Imagine RightBrain cooperatively-owned
sacred ecological real estate
but also secular WinWin Yang assertive integrity
organically fueled by matriarchal WiseElder
yin-nurturing
non-violent surprises
of post millennial womb rebirth
Heading toward 2020
multicultural non-violent communication norms
for economic and political BothLeft-AndRight
WinWin outcomes
Born of polycultural experience
polypathic memory
polyphonic harmony
polynomial revolutions
inviting us to change our competitive bullying voices
into cooperative capital-investing ZeroZone
pro-democracy choices
for
and of
and with
and by
and through EarthGreen Rights
Are not best said
with LeftBrain bullying redmeat word-choices
for those who respectfully
and maturely
and patriotically/matriotically
EarthRights disagree
that a multicultural healthy democracy
should ever be a weapon
for economic colonizing
bullying non-elites
Yet cooperatively agree
our greatest wealth
is found in vocational tools
for global ecological/theological creolization
of integrity's co-arising
PositivEnergy Democracy
Paradise Green/RedHearted
resurrecting ZeroSoul
HolySpirit-HolonicNature revolution
of true liberty's Great Creolizing Promise.
I'm often troubled by how I describe
my DonaldJohn detractors,
BananaHeads who stubbornly refuse to see me
as Earth's WinWin Protagonist
and Good GreenTherapeutic CoInvesting Guru.
you
may of heard iT said,
"sticks and stones may bReak my bones,
but word's will never hUrt me."
buT
the trutH is,
"STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES,
BUT WORDS CAN KILL ME!"
By trees and water the loveseat waits
For wanderers' chance meeting there
The outcomes will be the choice of fates
As stories repeat in spring air
We left the bench shaded by flower pots fair
Round the loveseat the white trilliums bloom
On rocks, in swamps, each face a star
They fear not storms’ nor winter’s dark gloom
No weak rose, they surmount forests' scars
Spring's galaxy blooms in my sweet home so far
Written February 7th for the poetry contest english quintain a spring day