They have come from the dim rooms of sorrow,
Where light was rationed and laughter broke like glass.
They have slept beside betrayal,
And woke to its perfume of ashes and iron.
Their smiles are stitched with memory’s thread,
Each gesture mended from the cloth of loss.
They have been burned,
Yet they offer warmth.
They know the texture of cruelty’s hand,
The weight of a promise dropped in winter.
So when they touch you, it is with care,
As if your soul were a wound they could not bear to reopen.
They recall every small humiliation,
Every word that sliced and stayed.
From those scars they learned gentleness—
A dangerous tenderness that disarms.
They kill with kindness,
Their weapon a cup of tea,
Their armor—listening.
They bleed empathy,
They breathe forgiveness.
Do not mistake their softness for surrender;
It is the strength of those who have died and returned.
They know what not to do,
And that is their quiet revenge.
Love, for them, is not a luxury—
It is survival in a velvet coat.
Extremely nice people,
The angels with broken wings
Who still remember how to fly.
The ground is white with powdery snow
Thankfully, I have no place I need to go,
The arctic north wind has ceased to blow,
I see one bird outside, a large black crow
He flexes his wings occasionally for show,
In yonder meadow stands a single doe
Despite the frigid cold, she’s wary of a foe,
The fox she saw skulking in a near hollow
All is peaceful, the atmosphere is mellow,
And I feel like an extremely lucky fellow.
Extremely excited and delighted
spotting the broadest smile,
I trashed what was unruled;
my tone is not rude and hostile!
An aura of intense gladness
enlivens mood and expresses
a spirit of reclaimed blissfulness:
euphoria is true cheerfulness!
Misery is the worst friend,
it wouldn't allow brightness
in that bleak sky of pastel red:
shouldn't it show liveliness?
I've traded animosity for pious forgiveness
realizing that anger led to useless conflicts;
hardships and sorrows were painful arrows
poking deep ignoring all pleads and screams!
Willed
Vague sword
Weak heart and sight
Boundless wisdom, although
My soul has full enthusiasm
Body growing old and becoming weak
My resolve outweighs the bullet
Reeled swilled
Billed.
(The Bell)
Written: June 27, 2021
Ring My Bell Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Anderson
Mid-East Has Been Extremely Hot
Mid-East is always exceptionally hot;
Bad things to our attention brought;
We should select,
Those who infect,
That should be sought and then shot.
Jim Horn
My coffee's so strong, it wakes up the neighbors
Perhaps it the brand, I usually prefer Nabob
Nabob's a
Maybe if I switch
Peels off your skin seems like “Epidermis Asphalt”
The god of this world is not wholly
Wholly good or wholly evil.
He does his best to avoid extremes.
With his cornucopia he feeds the paying multitudes
While the rest discreetly hunger. He nourishes,
Admixing with good food insignificant,
That is – as far as we can tell - insignificant
Doses of toxin. We must say grace mindful
That slightly poisoned food is better than none, and
“In the long run,” as one archdeacon of economics said:
“Who cares,?“ We’ll all be dead.”
Progress was not made for man, but man
Was made to serve progress. “What progress?” you ask.
Ah, the answer to that is far, far, above us,
Filed away on the fiftieth storey.
By the way, don’t get too worried
About that radioactive leak!
An expert has assured us we need expect
Only a couple of extra cancer cases at most.
And besides, don’t rock the boat
No the god of this world is not holy.
Sometimes I feel extremely cruel,
And want to kill someone just with a stool.
My wife sent me to a psychiatrist for a visit.
O.K. I visited. Kill. But, still I feel uneasy.
So accuratley,
It passionatley, came to my vision
That you were a blessing from which
I've been missing.
As the sky was shaped,
Fashioned in blue,
I thank the lord
"So its extremely you"
I must believe that
Heaven must be missing an angel
Cause with me you've spent
Much quality time
Contrary to bliss,
Those feelings are mine,
I long to need
The depths of your soul
And in the future
Perhaps we could hold,
Each other,
Like the days could never end
And in the midst of it all
I found a special friend
So can you be extremly mine
So the essence of love
We can find.
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