Of love Devine
Now a soured story
Of love regrets that
Storys thyn
Mercy me :my rightous glory
Oh then shall sing of
Love Devine
With to one, ah one sided
Story
Love of Christ, thy a world
Subblined
Generations sing this story
Our Christ has risen from
the grave
Toils I make in all his glory
Some may say I am a
Bittered slave
Rewards from God
In all my glory
My descipns, now
all behave
Jesus , Jesus, Precious Jesus
The rich , the poor all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, oh Precious Jesus
the miracles , Christ rose
From the grave
Have within thy triumph stories
Glory to thy God Devine
Yet ye speaketh with Satan's
Glory
Oh Folk of Christ might us all
Behave
Jesus, Jesus, ah steadfasted
Glory, victory Christ rose from
the grave
Jesus, Jesus, our triumph and
Glory,
Precious Jesus we all behave!
Oh dove of Christ complete thy story
Mire as I knowest not details
My affords of peace and glory
May off end the peace I seek
Jesus, Jesus of peace and glory
Seek thyn end in peaceful ways!
I am but a single shuddering whisper trapped beneath the shroud,
a lingering fluttering flicker of self indulgent doubt.
I am but a small one, an itty bitty insignificant flake of dust,
among the sunlight.
A little soft, though not soft spoken,
a little daft, a wee bit broken,
much too hardened, yet, too young
to be outspoken
instead of “spoken for” or
“in love.”
I am but a girl, spirit frayed and bittered hag
softly and constantly being reborn.
I wish I could shut his atrocious bittered mouth,
To put a stopcock and no more venomous words come out;
This vile person who act falsely appearing to be decent,
While sticking knives at the back pretending to be devout.
I wish she looked closely into her tormented conscience,
Where it lies hidden entwined by the decay of her soul;
She kisses you on the cheeks and shows compassion,
All the while, her vile tongue manipulates and cajole.
Like these two despicable people, there are many.
They are the scum of the earth in which they habitat;
They give you a friendly hand, and they take an arm
Then they walk all over you like a doormat.
King-Size Bull Crap
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
Hear me out
I am that soul
In the midst of darkness
Alone and forgotten
By my shadows
Ignored by the spirits
Seperated from the light
Left alone by the cross road
Confuse disappointed degraded
I bleed I cried I wept
I screamed
Yet to no avail
Hear me out
I can't burry myself in darkness
So there must be a light
I was bittered before
But now I found my ways
I started to rise
Cos I can't remain in the dark
I kept moving despite
I hurt my self
I was determined to reach
The end of the tunnel
I excluded fear
And that was the source
Of my survival
Finally after the pains
After the agony
After the failure of life
My morning was full of light
So hear me now
No matter were you are
In life
Get up stand up
Keep moving
You will get there
Just like I did
If you got an heavy heart now please
Hear me out
She answered without hesitation...
Her pride is beneath her feet....
She humble herself and conquered her fears...
Her scar makes her strong..
The wicked soul of a man is her ringtone...
A long night forgotten..
The unfulfilled promises with unbearable pains..
Betrayal makes her hate the other gender..
Her heart is shattered she is now tattered without a wrapper her naked body in anguished...
Her breast dangled her weist wiggle..
She loosen herself for her lover and now she is battered her heart is scattered with bittered remembered.. She curses the moment which she moan in pleasure and closed her eyes in honour..
She lament!!
Her pieces is beyond repair..
Years gone by, she searches for a repairer but found many damagers pushing so hard to taste the tasteless forbidding..
O’ good woman (3)
Where’s your head gone (4)
Rolling around in other men’s beds, huh? (7)
Look what I found (4)
Your baggage unbound (3)
Should I refold the linen wraps on the ground? (9)
Appease your lease (3)
Good woman, good grief (4)
Where did I go wrong? (5)
Your skin is weathered (4)
Browning and drowned (3)
Isn’t the floor quite cold down there? (7)
Forget me not (3)
Your mother’s wise whispers (4)
Surely she has prepared a house for you here? (9)
You are almost grown (4)
Full of bones (3)
Might your feet fall near? (5)
Fatherless and shy (3)
Teeth bittered and loose (4)
Tell me, does he listen to you? (7)
Don’t untie Yesterday’s shoes (4)
Let her walk (3)
If you ran bare wouldn’t they sit and stare? (9)
Bawdied and wet (3)
Chugging canines underneath us (4)
Are we lost in roots? (5)
Let us play there (4)
Before they barter (3)
For without tufts where can we sail? (7)
Lest we call (3)
Upon the one exalted (4)
Do you sleep with my prayers in your window? (9)
Perhaps on the streets (4)
Where you dream (3)
Which one hooded her hair? (5)
Chilled the January air
shaken and stirred by suffused zephyr winds
shimmering icy foam gurgled frigid in the froth
singing, swirling, whining tempest
lathered howling squeals thru the trees;
naked skeletons undressed by winter fall
gasping breaths guttural involuntary convulsions
tempestuous tease in tornadic twinning gales
breathless mistrals meandering the trades
slipping and sliding along the fluid swells
agitated gesticulated waves palpitating
screech screams, squealing squawking shrieks
raw bittered bites breaching lung and sinew
merciless rigor of glacial numbing
the piercing northeaster yowls
ascending surge of winter awakening rise.
IT'S ME, THE LOST ONE
Always wonder, i'm never bothered
Lost in thoughts but found in love
Bittered and shattered yet not broken
Pierced and perforated yet whole
Am I still myself or another? I ask
Am I whole or sole? I wonder
It's me, the lost one
It's me, the confused
I break when I think, yet I reason
I need myself to help me
An urgent plea for rescue
from lost moments and dead state.
I've been held captive by my thoughts
and rescued by my inactions
It's me, the lost one
It's me, the confused
I got lost when I found myself
Maybe I shouldn't try
Since every attempt failed
and all efforts wasted.
HO²
08036391290
When life dominated and things turned wrong,
Conditions bittered and when life pinched,
When I was hit hard by far gone situations,
And conspiracies tumbled down my life,
When life pierced with all its might,
When the loved ones neglected,
When future looked uncertain and dark,
When everything appeared meaningless,
And there was no way out.
When no one, not even a friend could help,
When confusion over powered
And I broke down in tears,
Then my dear Robin! You interfered,
While earlier you remained by side,
Well equipped, then you hopped,
To wrap me in your lovely smile,
To swaddle me with your pacifying remark-
“I am there my dear, so raise your head high.”
Neither you show-off, nor you pretend,
Just be yourself and no need to lie,
Don’t worry about them and
Let the wrongdoers cry.”
When at last it came to think of the Robin Hood of my life,
No one but Di, you came to my mind........
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 29/01/2016
For A twisted poem about Robin Hood - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: C. T.
Di: (didi) elder sister
On bated wings of illusion,
and deceiving words of
conclusion,
the storms rage on within her
and the rain streams down her
face.
Into her hands, a memory,
of what she thought could
never be,
shell fondle it until its cold,
and seek the warmth within.
Hold her head up towards the
sky,
she screams at the heavens, a
whispered sigh,
wondering who'll she have to
be,
to be herself.
Her love's not for the broken
hearted,
her endless story hasn't even
started.
She laughs so hard, she starts
to cry,
"Oh God," she screams,"please
let me die!"
She walks away in a bittered
rage,
the book is closed, she turns
the page,
jaded eyes that hate the soul,
who made her what she is.
Kissing the flames, she turns
away,
she drops down on her knees to
pray,
crawling to the edge, she looks
below,
she never knew how hard it
was, to let go.
Minutes crawl by,
she starts to cry,
"Oh God," she whispers, "I've
already died..."
she starts to burn and quiver
inside,
the storm still rages on...
She whispers a smile to passers
by,
but never again will she catch
their eye,
she tells you which dream to
meet her in,
but she's never there.
he only once
saw his father
cry
on edge
in an easy chair
put mussed head in calloused hands
quaking
broke
a wooden rule
by luck
shouted bad black mad
and he bittered
Deep inside me there's something called fear
Afraid of life itslef and ever flowing tears
Filling up space and moving like a river
There it is, I just know
Enveloping me and am captured
My heart twisted and pleading no
In my head am feeling tortured
Scarred and hopeless, and feeling the
Weight of a million pounds
With nothing around to bring me back
Racing in the lonely truth
I turn to catch a breath and am florting
In my own faith
With me, myself and something I know is fear
Afraid to scream cause the taste feels bittered by
Your wicked stab, trying to escape
But I know I can't
so I just stare into space,
bleeding for help.
And the stories fell in reams
Of the past and future dreams
For war had not bittered them
These valiant but normal men
Tales of home and pastures green
Of family, fields and flowing stream
Treasured times at campfires glow
Bring forth a smile in battles throw
For these are the quiet hours
Not the day when fear sours
A time to sit in reflection
Distant memories for collection
Not the angst or shedded tear
The shrapnels call or bullets fear
Foxhole, ditch they bravely sit
Tomorrows call and death outwit
Stars are stars on any night
Who ever gazes burn so bright
Your enemy sees them to
And makes that wish as you do
The once looming grey and desolate storm, now sails to the present,
Overhead it silently suspends it's brewing opression on our scene,
The barren landscape of the moors rolls away into eternity,
Dressed in it's rugged and timeless mourning,
The rarest tree that once grew fertile there now stands alone,
Tall and lifeless, it's wilted stoop, in memory of itself,
Ghosts are carried in the wind to the places they roamed,
At the trunk of the trees they stand, replaying memories,
Widow's fingers trace engraved initals in the ancient bark,
But the heart was scored there in the youth of the tree,
In the youth of her soul when she stood shaded by it's leaves,
The tree had since stood, as ages passed, a tomb of love,
Become twisted by the wind that had once been a friend,
It's stature had bittered, distorted in all her pain,
And had torn apart the heart inscribed in it's chest,
Broken and cracked bole tears the sentiment apart
-MXC
That - I would go with thee, behind some wall
of clear, peaked reasoning, some know it all,
and there, evade my own contention's stall -
Within thy grace and arms, insider's maul
of secrecy - thy besting, thy appall
would grieve me not, as since to thee have poll,
of longing's bittered not, fore'er thy call!
And thee, inspired needing, would not fall
to bitterness, behind some through install
that ventured not, but clung to else of gall.
Would pull thee forward, as my own heart not show
some pulling mattered more, than love to know.
I love thee - as behind thy truth am slow
to change thy fate, but ever seeking grow.
That changing rate of thy esteem, its glow,
an ever chancing mate, a teaming row.
And silence, in its answer, is the stow -
Behind some wall, I love thee - to love so!
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