When love's chalice brims with passion's pain
from crooked hands now clenched within your mind
its wormwood draught is less the bile that stains
you spilled to cleanse the earthen floor of time
the rapture of this life now cleans my soul
as it bleeds deep in darker realms of shade
you drove the knife that cut the rose once whole
release my suffering heart as death persuades
this flower keeps no breath within its bloom
now drifting dark beneath the setting sun
flee from this world whose shadows I consume
as my heart dies, its death already done
a crumbled love lies dead inside my heart
buried beneath the lies as you depart
old relics from past
tossed coins and toy figurines
moms cake recipe
The two thought it best
to put the truth to rest,
and so, they would pretend
to the very end.
am i not a child?
i'm burdened with the expectations
i haven't seen the world yet
but i'm supposed to be a 'great wonder'
"is it too much to ask?" they say
while throwing words that leave wounds
one second i'm their child and the next
they wish to forget i even existed
my blood boils whenever i'm compared
with her, him and them for being too stupid
i want to live with my own pace
but the people i know won't let me heal
I lay, I stare, I look around… it's black as pitch. I'm underground.
I'm chained, I'm bound, the walls are tight. Someone help me! Give me light!
Trickles of liquid run through my chains. I smell the blood as it seeps from my veins.
The air hangs heavy and smells of damp earth,
Help me, hear me, give me rebirth!
Despair; it is taking me, my blood draining low, when a rumble above me, it renews my soul
My was my tomb, bound here for certain,
But now I hear them: dig, dig, pull back the curtain.
Its close now I feel it, then the door did burst free,
Someone was sneering, yes, sneering down upon me.
He said not a word, he made no move to help me more.
He simply stuffed a rag in my mouth and with a wicked chuckle, closed the door.
Wouldn't it be great
if all this oil ran out
No brush cutters, lawn mowers
or blowers about
Today it's Easter Sunday
on the edge of a large town
There's stillness and calmness
the decibel level decidedly down
The birds they are a'chirping
leaves are rustling in the breeze
The flowing bubbly sound of our nearby creek
all designed to calm the soul if you please
The revival of community
all together lend a hand
Gather fresh organic home grown food
heads no longer buried in the sand
Twisted mind of fog
Mined love
As explosive as
Burning passion
A dead tree buried
under the snow. Will we find
light after winter?
Let us live life lonely but not alone
Even if you choose to, no one does it
You either live on God or Satan's loan
God is simple and merciful on throne
The worth of his goodness do not blind
Let us live life lonely but not alone
He gave us His only begotten own
That world may be at peace and do befit
You either live on God or Satan's loan
For all has been to each life and death shown
To no excuse thereafter will God quit
Let us live life lonely but not alone
No one would be bail out from fact long known
The breath marks beginning sins we commit
You either live on God or Satan's loan
I buried your mind alive in this zone
To be fun filled for free fortunate fit
Let us live life lonely but not alone
You either live on God or Satan's loan
Secrets buried run far and deep
Though not truly hidden
The stars seem to know
Those paths where few tend to go
With every step the heart does leap
In twilight's glow, a figure waits
But only the brave dare to creep
Those stars with knowing eyes
Guard the truth, a promise to keep
A treasure lost that cannot wait
If you seek what has been lost in time
Listen~ maybe nature will point the way
Seek the secrets while still in your prime
For in the dark where secrets are kept
You'll find a hidden part of yourself
they say …
you cant take it with you
but you took so many little jewels
when you left -
your smile
your pure, unqualified love
your creativity and expression
your engaging mind
your encouragement, your empathy
your extraordinary patience …
but what I miss the most is
your exceedingly unlimited kindness
and … our talks -
about anything and nothing
and everything …
there was ne’er a doubt my heart was yours
and yours, of course, was mine
the truly ironic thing is
that we conversed SO much -
for many hours on end
when not a single, solitary word …
was ever needed.
oh, how I miss you, Mom
like a clown …
misses tears.
hope breaks despair’s pain
all efforts in time sunken~
take my hand in vain
Goodbye! Goodbye!
Father, we buried you today
in a wicker casket
wherein bones of Mother lay.
Laid to rest upon her
as the guest of honour
together once more to stay.
Goodbye! Goodbye!
I read the eulogy that I wrote
but in a final regret
the words stuck in my throat.
Then sang my heart
"How Great Thou Art"
and now I write my footnote.
Goodbye! Goodbye!
It’s time for my closing verse.
How long the years
that bless and unkindly curse,
till in a black wagon
our sorry a-rse draggin’
we get to flat ride in a hearse.
Farewell! Farewell!
For most of us the one day
we get to ride in a big
chauffeur driven limo
is the one day you're DOA!
Now old and wearied
alas my father just buried!
1921 ~ 2014
Written: October 2014
they built a ballpark over my bones,
laid asphalt like a priest's last lie—
no headstone, no name,
just beer guts and baseball caps
spilling nacho cheese
where I once bled.
I was twenty-three,
shot twice in the alley behind Leroy’s Bar,
the paper called me
“suspected.”
that was all they needed.
the morgue forgot me,
the state ignored me,
and my mother—
she wept
until the flies outnumbered her prayers.
now they cheer a double play
while I sleep beneath their roars,
rootless and rotted,
a ghost who never swung a bat—
but still waits
for justice
to round third base and come home.
I bowed for the story line.
Hunched over in suspense,
I hung-out for the punch line.
The twists of plot
lured me to the edge.
I could see the lede
lying buried below me.
Reaching in to grab it,
I toppled over, fell right in,
and became the story line.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.