To each his own,
they always say.
To each his own,
is the only way.
So tell me why,
they always stray
from those very words
they so often say.
Do they really care,
or is it just unfair?
Judge not lest yea be judged!
They care not
for they begrudge.
Do as I say not as I do.
Oh, these words are
so very true.
Life is a game,
you see.
The object,
to keep your
SANITY.
Are my words confuseing
Do they leave your heart ringing
Are my points dulled by my rhyme
Making reading them a waste of time
Do they fall off the page
Are they just too vague
I try to be simple and straight
With words that don't agitate
I try to encourage with good advice
By shareing the lessons I've learned in my life
I hope that you enjoy what you read
I hope that I have given you something you need
To be of help is my only wish
Not to write poems that stink like a fish
Me, I never learn from teachers
Could not speak till middle school
So I learned intuition from those who don't hear
Can't vocalize at speed of thought
Graduated five credits short by my words and thought
After being misunderstood, stereotyped and judged
by a equal man who looks down on those who don't
Fit in to the mold of him and discredited message
By way of being biast to propaganda and media
thoughts.
I don't wish to offend the art
But I have held nothing but words
I was to humble to speak
I tried to hide and searched for death
But my words are not mine there sent
And until I face fate I am unable to enter the gate
I wish not credit, for this is essence above a unique
soul
I can't speak these parables
To be scrutinized by those who follow only gold
From alpha to the end
There has been the essential divinity
In all so life could grow, love laugh, sin
Spoken word is to be cherished and honored
Only if bold, not self serving, and reasonable
To all human kind.
So what makes you upstanding
Arrogance, or hand picked syllabus
Which is of no relevance in the truth you are denying
Its always the same,
everyday after day,
she sits in her room,
thinking about what to say,
or how to rythm,
her words to the beat,
that she stumbled upon,
while getting lost in her dreams,
her dreams,
they dont make sense,
she just uses them for escape,
when life starts treatin her rough,
but she dont care when that happens,
she puts it in the back of her mind,
only to make it her,
inspiration,
to fuel her rhythms,
and to fuel her thoughts,
she thinks about her life,
she wonders about love,
but thats were her creativity stops,
its like she ran out,
or there is no more,
cuz aint no words commin out,
of her mouth into the air,
so she just stares,
off into space,
were there is noting left of her,
to come out of the haze,
that she feels inside,
that she sees in her dreams!
I wrote some beautiful verse last night
A rhyming loving poem sounding grand
Oh how the words did flow
Consisting of elegiac pentameter
With words of elegant form
But, where did it go
It was coming out so beautifully
I can’t for the life of me truly know
A poetic story does not have to rhyme
But in growing interest it must climb
It may be that the poem was so good
It climbed so high it go lost in the clouds
David Pennington
I use them all the time
But I don't really know.
What they say or convey
Mere thoughtlessness or more?
I've seen them being used,
Excessively at times.
Where words didn't make it
The dots would suffice.
I hate the impact they have
Leaving you yearning for more
Unnerving and confounding
Indefinite conclusions I loathe
The dots in the end
Of some words desolate
Abandoned by the creator
For the other to insinuate...
Did I promise to love you?
Did I let you go?
Were there words I knew?
Did I not hold?
Is it just me… alone?
Are you not a part to play?
Of things we wouldn’t have known
If only words are enough to say…
And there you go… or did I?
Doesn’t seem to have yet a fulfillment end
Isn’t it love we chose to defy?
To achieve yet of loneliness to befriend
Yet… we never did say goodbye
Simply to let fade to admit to be…
Much of humanities’ faith we deny
Of ourselves… what is it we could never see?
Did I promise to love you?
Yet I am to let you go
Words often too late, too few
Perhaps of love yet we behold
He’s ambling toward me and his lips move
I pick up my pace, the distance to remove
Moving ever closer, still can’t hear his voice
So much seems distorted in a world of white noise
Bikers trek loudly o’er the pebble-filled road
And the sounds of nature are on overload
Energetic squirrels rustle through tree limbs
Mother duck spreads wings, splashes as she swims
Even the watch on my wrist ticks faintly
Its old smiling face staring back so quaintly
Now he is no more than ten feet away
But the words he utters -- still awash in gray
His message eludes me, though I long to hear
Why is it his words do not reach my ears
Face to face, but the barrier still solid
My pulse quickens and my skin turns pallid
Could it be I hear only what cannot hurt
Above words of rejection, painful and curt
As he moves away, I sense the farewell
But still the mere notion I try to dispel
Absorbing instead the more welcome white noise
That penetrates my brain by my own choice
*For Constance's Contest: "Hearing"
"...for a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest." From "The Boxer"
by Simon and Garfunkel.
Can you feel my pain?
My soul bleeds to be heard
My pen whispers my words
Who are you?
A poet is who I am
Poetry is neither to be spoken
Nor to be heard
But to be felt by the poet who’s written his words
Written in a metaphor, written in blood
One half pierced with hatred,
The other coated with love
His words are so powerful,
But his thoughts have no meaning
A mind collapses in a life that’s so deceiving
So he stands in a mirror
That shows nothing on the other side
He’ll cage his feelings
And write until his words die
So, can you feel the cries?
The agony of pain?
These are the words of a poet
With nothing to gain
Message Received:
How are you today?
My cellular negotiator displays words from another cellular negotiator,
but not a flip phone like mine.
So much easier is a flip cellular phone.
Like opening a letter without a chance of a paper cut.
But then again, the words displayed could break a heart...
How are you today?
...
How am I today?
Well today I could be fine
Today so far was nothing particular or eventful
definitely uneventful to the comparisons of last night
Last night...
Is that what you are referring to I wonder.
Do you remember at all the words that where said between us?
Those words that floated around me and feather tipped my face,
those words that enticed my hands to flinch cause of the thoughts they indicated.
Should I reply?
Reply about last night?
Last night that you only have lint in your mind,
where I have the full wardrobe.
Maybe a question.