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Long Poems
Long poem by Elisa Christensen | Details

The Inner Chamber

THE INNER CHAMBER

Please.  Stop holding back on me.

Like a child standing at the neighborhood ice cream truck, arm outstretched, eyes huge, mouth watering.

I stand here longing to slip underneath your decades of cold-rolled steel armor and touch the real you.

Your soft underbelly where your greatest fears run amuck through your darkest worlds. 
 
Where you hide the monsters you are sure will send me screaming, 
Stuck deeply with their sharpest swords, 
A trail of blood decorating my getaway.
?Where you go to revisit the smell of your newborn’s head and 
The sound of the thousand “I love you’s” that have decorated 
Your heart, like a high ranking general.

His bright, glistening medals lining his proud Chest
Just as your children’s “I love you’s” decorate your soft, gooey middle core, 
That part of you no one else gets to see.

To open these innermost, secret chambers, 
Would be to allow another warrior into your most private sanctuary.

The space where you lay down your weapons, 
Remove your many layers of armor.

I get that.  It’s a most dangerous proposal.
One you haven’t had much luck with in your past.

I understand that when the elixir of youth’s innocence,
Formed a rosy gauze over your insight, 
And your understanding of how your species really works-

You allowed a few in.
I know what they did,

Betrayals scattered across 
Your sacred sanctuary,
Littering the once pristine floors,
That you initially built.
 
Floors that were not lacking in any way-
From the purest white ideals,
The hopes and impossible delusions,
That a teen bride imbibes as she
Sweetly dreams of her white wedding day.

While your armor may be a suitable deterrent for most, 
I can see it is transparent in some places.
Worn thin from years of overuse.

You should know that.

Through these unintended, accidental windows,
I can see what lies there.
Multiple masses of thick scar tissue where-
The injury of betrayal and the loss of innocence 
Played out like a well-executed horror film,
Leading you to absolute conviction concerning 
The danger such risks can afford.

Should I ever be the very rare, honored guest, 
Chosen to visit you there,
I can’t promise you that I won’t ever
Pull a shank from my pinions and consider
Hacking at your soft underbelly.

I could probably even get a few small
Yet effective weapons past your metal detectors, 
Your multiple teams of soldiers standing guard.
But would I?  Would I pose that danger?

I’ve seen how we can dissolve 
Into tattered, faded copies of ourselves 
Marked with coffee rings and ink spills.

Our most evil versions of ourselves taking over
Like the energy vampires who manipulate 
Every conversation and exhaust all those around them.

I cannot say to you that I have never attacked
With both barrels blazing,
After sustaining a life-threatening blow
From your finest canons.

You know that I have.

While certainly not my proudest moments,
I cannot promise that I, 
In all my medieval humanness and imperfections,
Could rise above my own scars and 
Open wounds and turn to face you,
With my finest intentions displayed proudly 
Like the white feathers of a great owl.

When the salt is still burning through
The wounds that we both knew 
Would probably not ever heal, 
Due to the unexpected, additional attacks 
They have been pummeled with--

When our shadow people join forces to
Show us just how ugly we really can be--
When my own fears and pain from
My own scar tissue turns me into someone
I’d avoid at all costs in a dark alley--

How can I promise you complete safety?
How could I ever be truthful in saying
I could never hurt you,
That I would never consider smuggling in
A small shank intended for your underbelly?

Am I any better, any more kind, less sinister?
Than the black clothed, face painted, stealth ninjas
That snuck in before me?

Littering your inner chamber with blood stains,
Chunks of flesh sliced away with razor sharp swords,
With words that should never have formed
On the lips of anyone who also tumbled forth
“I love you?”

I can’t.  I cannot promise you my visit there, 
Should I ever be permitted into your sacred space,
Will be one of godly like goodness
Devoid of human insecurity, self absorption
And crippling imperfections.

I honestly cannot give you that.
Even as much as I want to.

What I can give you is a broken, imperfect person,
Who at least understands the delicacies of 
?Such an important journey into that sacred space.
A person who recognizes this space of yours,
As truly sacred.

A person who will respectfully take off her shoes,
Not trample the few square feet of soft, 
White carpet that has yet to be stained with your blood.

The lifeblood that the very ones,
You chose to love, and who promised only 
To love and protect you,
Went before me and carelessly, 
Sometimes wits the most frightening and shocking intentions,
Boldly splattered from your tender heart,
Across your white carpet, once so pure and clean. 

I can only promise that my goal here 
Is and never will be to cut you open any deeper.

I can only promise that I will keep this in mind,
Before I go forward and knock once again,
Upon your tightly sealed, inner chamber door.
The one you’ve outfitted with five, impossible deadbolts.

I can only promise that I will bring--
A satchel of tenderness.
A backpack filled with understanding,
Patience and genuine love. 
And hopefully,
If I can fit it in, 
A little, true selflessness.

And should I pack all of this for my journey,
There won’t be any room for my weapons.

So please, when I knock on that door,
Don’t greet me with a long, cold, 
Terrorizing glance down the barrel of one of your biggest guns.

Realize I come in peace, unarmed.
Recognize and acknowledge the white flag
I hold high out in front of me.

Hoping just to know you.
To love you.
To lounge in bliss within your warm, sweet chamber.
Your sanctuary.
And finally get the chance to meet the real you.










































																	










Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details

Dillen's Continuing DMV Adventures

I wrote a sad but true urban legend called “Dillen and the DMV” last week.
Here follows an update.

Background Review:

One of my health care employees, Dillen, has wicked ADD, borderline intelligence, not qualifying for disability supports, which are few 
and those few minimal at best anyway, 
but also challenged by things like getting to work on the right day at the right time,
challenged by processing verbal communications,
whether written or spoken more slowly than Business As Usual pace and pattern would permit,
challenged with struggles to establish and maintain healthy positive social relationships,
much more challenged by intimacy,
so often settling for companionship that does not foster mutually therapeutic co-mentoring,
challenged by his felt urgency for speed while driving.

In “Dillen and the DMV” I write to the DMV Commissioner,
the Chief States Attorney, and the Attorney General
about this series of unfortunate events.

Update:

I hear back from the DMV.
This letter patiently reviews Dillen’s multiple infractions.
Two involve having others in his car with marijuana or concomitant paraphernalia,
(why not just “supplies” or “equipment”?)

“Marge, did you order the paraphernalia for the copier machine yet?”
Word choices in the public sector often distract me.

but Dillen was not charged with driving stoned,
because he wasn’t.
He was the designated driver for his “friends”
who did not have their Medical Marijuana cards on them.

Then there was the time he might have been going 35 or 40 and hit black ice,
totaled his car
which ended upside down,
for which the local police felt they must issue some form of moving violation,
after all, we do have those towing charges
and the need for all those emergency folks to stand out in the freezing ice storm,
and there are these two drug-related violations on his driving record
so he was probably stoned anyway, right?

And then there was this time,
when Dillen was pulled over
ostensibly for speeding,
but really this was about driving on a suspended license
without a Work Permit
which he didn’t have because
(1) DMV didn’t have a current address to send him his notice,
so he didn’t know he was driving on a suspended license, and
(2) no one had told him,
including the Police Officer who pulled him over,
there is this Work Permit thing
which would have covered his butt 
on this particular adventure in high speed suburban crime.

However, this letter from the DMV Director of Programs leaves out some details,
as does my summary.
Then the Program Director reassures Dillen and I of her concern for Dillen’s mess,
which someone else might have called unemployment 
and yet another round of couch-surfing homelessness,
but CT’s pesky State Statutes wouldn’t allow her to refund his application fee,
and, besides,
the application form says right on there that it won’t be refunded
even if the application is rejected

Apparently for reasons that remain in the shadow of the public eye.
My two page letter was too subtle for government comprehension
of our own collective abuse and neglect.
She confirms the DMV does have explicit standards for rejecting applications,
including more than three moving violations,
but fails to apologize for designing her Program’s communication plan
to be sure that disproportionately young urban minority low-income males
with mental health and self-medication issues
would be fleeced of their last $100
ripped out of their hungry pockets
to apply for a Work or Education Permit
that State Statutes prohibit her,
so sadly,
from handing out like mother’s milk to a starving baby.

She also does not speculate about why State Prosecutors Dillen has met
are all apparently unaware of stipulated public, but effectively private, criteria for rejecting
pricey applications.

She also fails to mention what she might do to correct this situation
of not providing transparent public information
in a way that allows respected residents of the State of CT
to make a fully informed decision about wasting their money
by further investing in the future miserable outcomes
of shoddy DMV Programs.

She also does not explain where we,
the tax-payers of CT,
were when concerns about the need for job security,
especially for those in hard-to-employ populations,
where we were when needs for food and housing,
healthy wants for continuing education and training,
including the need for continuing education and training,
including the need for reasonable transportation,
even in the winter,
where we all were when these were not being weighted sufficiently against risks, 
allowing licensed drivers with complex histories 
to continue on their journey
the best they can.

Personally, I know Dillen responds much better to a warm hug,
a patient smile,
and expressed appreciation for continuing to improve,
and encouragement to continue with work
and sticking with a healthy daily routine,
which does not include speeding,
even if everyone around him is racing to nowhere good.

Yesterday I was mesmerized for several hours by a TV series
“Underground”
about the Railroad prior to the U.S. Civil War.
A champion anti-slavery attorney
confesses to his Northern wife,
as a younger attorney he used to settle estates,
including estates of slave-holders,
which sometimes led to the awkwardness of arranging for resale of people,
families,
often resulting in the tearing of children from their mothers’ arms,
and other similar heinous crimes against nature
and mental health.

For some reason
I kept thinking about that clerk at DMV,
reading Work Permit applications,
after depositing the enclosed nonrefundable $100,
looking at the high security publicly invisible list of reasons not to help
depressed people living mostly in their cars
have a modestly better chance at life,
as if what is a right for him or her
on his or her way to work and home again,
is a too luxurious privilege for a fragile at-risk criminal population,
enslaved by their need to self-propel their freedom futures.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Gary Bateman | Details

The Pied Piper from New York City - Part One

The Pied Piper from New York City – Part One

Dare his name be said?
I say, of course, Yes! 

The Pied Piper, himself, is the man, the myth, the legend.
And they, the so-called incurious lot of the hoi polloi in
American society, are the ones who accept the:
bluster,
ignorance, 
lies,
rudeness,
and rank buffoonery of this Pied Piper.

They are the ones who blindly choose to follow around this 
Abject Charlatan and Bunco Artist without any question or 
Thought or any civilized degree of true human concern, whilst
HE “pipes” loudly and rudely with an endless supply of hot air, 
And with all due trickery and ferocity, his bombastic true-lies, 
And his merry tunes of deceit, stupidity, and just pure-plain
“Baloney” for those seeking the simplest of answers to the
Significant questions and real problems of the day in our
Society and in the greater world, that cry out for and demand
Intelligent thought, discussion, and consideration of realistic 
Solutions that directly affect people’s lives and their well-being,
And the essential stability of our country and of our allies in
This very complicated world of the twenty-first century.

Ah . . . yes, I wish this were only a dream in the deep-dark center
Of the subjunctive mood of my grammar, but not of my heart, and
My psyche—for it’s truly and unfortunately much more than this,
And it’s much more than one could ever imagine or ever venture
To say that this “Alternative Universe of the Pied Piper” is one
That’s a genuine “Nightmare,” a panoply, replete with:
a few truths,
so many more half-truths,
untruths,
insults,
and endless deceptions!
And even incompetence to boot!
 
But look at this way, it’s just more of the old fantasies just like
The people in the past who received a fake degree from his sham,
Real Estate program at good old “TU” in the Big Apple!  

Ah . . . yes, The Pied Piper is one who always takes great pride in the
Barnum-Fields' popular bon mot: “Never give suckers an even break!” 
He takes this zinger to heart as part of his dubious modus operandi, 
Whilst joyously snickering, and laughing behind the backs of those
Who are gullible enough and have the proclivity to believe anything
They hear him say— just as long as, “it sounds simple and good!”
When I unfortunately hear things like this, I roll my eyes and think . . . 
“Simple is as simple does, and stupid is as stupid does!”

Ah . . . yes, these children of misfortune and those full of anger and
Prejudice—including assorted Hatemongers and merry groups of
White Supremacists, Neo-Nazis, Ku Klux Klan, and those so-called
Righteous Apostles of the Alt-Right who now arrogantly march and 
Strut their ridiculous stuff in a true lock-step fashion to the beguiling  
And mesmerizing shrill voice of this supposed modern-day hero! 
This well-known, thin-skinned man with his pair of clay-feet and an
Overblown Reality TV persona is Our New York Flim-Flam Man!

All this, is clearly on display when the Pied Piper reprises his most 
Famous on-the-air gig in the Reality TV World as—The POTUS!
Horribile Dictu! Horribile Dictu! Oh yes, horrible to be told! And
Horrible it is to be told for sure! This is all I can say in response to
This troubling reality for America and for the greater world.
Let us all now pray! Let us all now pray! 

These poor people have no idea at all that they are being played
As fools, suckers, and willing and unwilling victims, duped by
The Pied Piper’s “Big Lie” mantra in the storied tradition of the 
Twentieth-Century by the clever propaganda machinations, that
Are truly reminiscent of past evil luminaries such as: Hitler, Hess,
Goebbels, Goering, Mussolini; and don’t forget the likes also of
Lenin, Stalin, Molotov, Beria, Brezhnev, Andropov, and so on,
All the way today to the likes of Putin, Assad, Duterte, and Maduro.
Just to name a few!

Say it ain’t true . . . Say it’s not possible . . . But it sadly is!
What a motley gallery of rogues and apostles of deception,
And out and out liars and frauds to be associated with!  

All the while the Pied Piper decries and bemoans the supposed
“Fake News,” and the cherished, historical role of the Free Press in
America, as protected, along with the rights of Freedom of Speech,
Religious Worship, and Peaceful Assembly as all are enshrined in the
First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States of America.

All the Pied Piper’s crying and bemoaning are quite telling and nasty
For someone who sang his paeans and voiced his fulsome panegyric
In support of “WikiLeaks,” which took great pride in their role as a 
Conduit for Russian propaganda and fake news, with the obvious goals
Of spreading lies and fomenting trouble in the hope of disrupting the
U.S. Presidential Election and the general electoral process in 2016.

The Pied Piper’s despicable actions in this regard tear at the most sacred
Institutional fabric and foundation of our nation’s grand Union, whilst
Threatening the very heart and soul of our precious democracy, and the

Accepted tenets of:
Good governance,
Tolerance,
Fairness,
Good judgment,
Moral leadership, and
Expected professional conduct.

In this instance, 
His actions and those of his henchmen
Have been and truly are shameful!

The Pied Piper also chooses, at times, to defame and shame those who 
Would dare to disagree with him in both the public forum and in private. 
In exacting his revenge, one of the Pied Piper’s favorite ploys is to wrap
Himself in the patriotic aura of the great American Flag, the famous 
“Stars and Stripes,” which is most sacred to our American history.
This is quite rich for a man who has never served in the military, and 
For one who is certainly not a veteran! He lambasts his opponents in 
This fashion by calling them both “Unpatriotic” and “Un-American.”

***SEE PART TWO FOR CONTINUATION AND CONCLUSION OF POEM***

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 7, 2017 (Political Verse)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by JAN ALLISON | Details

AT THE FOOTBRIDGE - LIMERICK COLLABORATION

At the footbridge Sue was meeting her beau (He was married to a woman called Flo) Sue soon found out his deception She dismembered his erection For his love life it was a massive blow To the hospital fled poor Rodger For an op to repair his todger Now fixed, it's SO big Rodger grunts like a pig in porn films as Rodger the lodger Inspired by but not for contest BY JAN ALLISON 7~18~16 He promised Flo he never would leave her And she would be his only receiver But she caught him with Sue And his chances were through Gnawing off wood when he neared her beaver WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH Sue castrated that cheating deceiver With one whack of her meat cleaver she pulled a Lorena Bobbit turned Rodger into a Hobbit Sue's now known as an "overachiever" WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND Across the table sits sweet Amee Once A Roger, before he became a she The master of infidelity So many personalities Before and after he became an amputee.. WRITTEN BY SKAT A He was known as a terrible stoner With a huge un-deflatable boner It now sits in a jar At the end of the bar A reminder to all of its owner... WRITTEN BY JOHN LAWLESS It’s become a tourist attraction As a symbol of female subtraction Grannies sneak in for a peek Everyday of the week Dreaming of former of love action. WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Oh how sad that pork missile should be unemployed but for all there to see if science, in a jiffy can rejuvenate stiffys then the first in the queue would be me! WRITTEN BY VIV WIGLEY Flo wanted to give Sue a high five For slicing Rodger with all his jive A two timing fool Who broke every rule Now lil Rodger don't work in overdrive WRITTEN BY ALEXIS Y Rodger's story has been immortalized For having his thingy circumcised It's on display in a bar Now hanging in a jar While it's slowing becoming crystalized WRITTEN BY MARTI SUTHERLAND As she ponders on what to eat Hopefully, it won’t be red meat For there on the log Is Rodger's hot dog So she gets excited and jumps off her feet. WRITTEN BY WINGED WARRIOR There's a lesson I really must blurt To all those blokes out chasing some 'skirt' When you're on heat Don't share your meat 'Cause your todger might really get hurt! WRITTEN BY MARK WOODS Poor forgotten noteworthy Sue Looking so gloomy she blew At the pickled todger once belonging to Rodger kissing good times its last adieu WRITTEN BY EVE ROPER As "Rodger" snaked out of the door It went past a room on tenth floor. A woman therein Said "Come right on in." she kept screaming, "More, I want more! WRITTEN BY ANDREA DIETRICH After Sue chopped his tally-whacker Poor Rodger became quite the slacker He tried to bring his pecker forth Never again to be pointing north Now when he pees he sits on the crapper. He stopped at the house, the red-light was on Knocked on the door, the girls were all gone Stuck with his sawed-off boner Tonight He's going to be a loner Damn, why did the girls all have to be gone? BOTH POEMS WRITTEN BY JAMES ANDERSEN A group of limericks quite clever Began with one simple sever Of engorged penis which is, (between us), I think, a spicy endeavor WRITTEN BY H PENELOPE SWIFTLOCK There was perfection in his pecker, as a porn star he was a wrecker, but to his wife he was unfair, so she severed what was down there, now his only job is director. WRITTEN BY CASARAH NANCE Poor Rodger thought he was being slick when he carved out a handcrafted prick he rubbed his new attire his precious toy caught fire Now he is left with an ashen stick WRITTEN BY TEPPO GREN An ashen stick means man minus prick. Poor Rodger, now a eunuch, without a fix. He decided to become a transgender. Then off he went on a bender. Woke up married to a man from Bertrix WRITTEN BY JEAN MURRAY Rodger's new love was a prudish fox but for brains she had a head of rocks he splinted up his willy popsicle sticks look silly he said it was new and still in the box! WRITTEN BY SONNY ROPER (EVE'S HUBBY) To be fair "At the Footbridge" Now to be completely fair And to stop every persons stare Rodger was not actually circumcised As he was a player, so don’t be surprised This was from wear and tear and his willingness to share WRITTEN BY MARK PAUL VAN DER MERWE Now Rodger mostly stays home for lack of a viable bone. He reaches by habit down for his rabbit: he's got Phantom Willy Syndrome! WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART Rodger was a good friend of Eye Had a real hankering for cherry pie Tasted every chance he got And it would hit the spot Until his crazy wife made him cry WRITTEN ON 14TH JUNE BY EYE TRUTH TELLER Roger pretends that he's a sexy stud But when the ladies find out he's a dud they all laugh in his face anatomically a disgrace His manhood is referred to as "The Bud" WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY LIN LANE Rodger thought his op was a success When he found he had more and not less But the surgeon's blind stunt Sewed it on back to front Well, he certainly lacks some finesse! WRITTEN ON 15TH JUNE BY RAY GRIDLEY As he crossed the footbridge, Georgie saw a duck Quite unique and raucous, it could quack AND cluck! (And did so incessantly) "Hey! Hey! It's all about me!" It loudly proclaimed, with much aplomb and pluck WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS
I also wrote another poem but this one did not turn into a collaboration - if you read it you will see that it is quite different to my usual style https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/at_the_footbridge__2_822879

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Teppo Gren | Details

BIO T J GREN part 04 03 Loving her was another

July 1975, Mount Druitt, Sydney, Australia

Everything in my life seemed to be in place now and going beautifully. The most important part which had been missing in my life, love, had now been fulfilled. It seemed incredible that only three weeks had passed since I had met Johanna. Those three weeks had been the most wonderful time of my life. And what was even better, was that even more wonderful togetherness was still to come. I was feeling excit-ed and ecstatic. We were still in the beginning stages of our relationship and I could hardly wait how our love would grow into a deeper, more meaningful and intimate togetherness. 

But after three weeks of dating Johanna something seemed to go wrong at a time when she had just moved into her own rental apartment in Burwood. I always took her home after folk dancing practice on Wednesdays, but this time she said that she didn’t need a lift. I was surprised and even more so I was disappointed. After we finished practice there was a white Holden station wagon with black curtains covering the side windows waiting for her. She got in the car and the car took off. I did not see who was driving it.

It was a clear message, but I didn’t realize it fully until the next day. I felt uneasy throughout the night, and the same uneasiness continued and increased during the day at work. At lunchtime I left the build-ing site at Parramatta and drove to Burwood to see Johanna to confront her as to what was going on and why I felt so ill at ease. I went to the door of Johanna’s apartment and knocked on the door but there was no reply. I knew that Johanna didn’t have a job, so I thought she must just be out somewhere. I thought I would wait around near Burwood and come back to try again in a little while. I went to a café for a drink. It was my lunchtime but I didn’t order anything to eat as the uneasy feeling I had was get-ting worse and took away my appetite. After a while I wondered back to Johanna’s apartment building outside of which I parked my car again. That’s when I saw the white Holden station wagon with the black curtains covering the side windows. Now I got really worried. I went up to Johanna’s apartment and knocked on the door. Again there was no reply, but I thought I heard a noise from inside indicating that she was there. I kept on knocking and finally Johanna came to open the door. She was wearing a robe although it was already past midday.

I told Johanna the reason I had come to see her. That I was feeling uneasy about her leaving like that the previous evening and that I needed to understand what was going on. Johanna said that I came at a bad time. At the same time I heard a sound of movement in the bedroom and it all became clear to me. I had caught Johanna at a bad time because she was having sex with another guy. I was devastated. She ex-plained that the previous night had been a direct message from her to indicate what was happening. We didn’t continue the discussion any further and she said it would be best for me to leave. I was happy to do so. I had to get out of there. I had made a fool of myself. I felt so stupid. I was being courteous with her not making sexual advances. Now I realized how stupid I was. That’s what she had wanted and ex-pected.

Many different feelings were going through my head as I got back to work. I was disappointed. I felt stupid. I felt betrayed. I felt anger. I felt anger towards Johanna for doing this to me, for not saying what she wanted from me. I felt anger at myself for being so stupid, naïve and inexperienced. I felt dis-traught for losing the feeling of love which I had for so long sought. I felt pain for having my dreams shattered.

Back at the building site I was stripping the formwork from a meter high concrete wall. The vertical tim-ber supports were slightly longer than a meter and went over the formwork plywood. Instead of using the crowbar as it was supposed to be used, I used it like a baseball bat with all my force to bang the sup-port timbers with the end of the crowbar to send them flying. I was angry. I was in pain. Letting out steam physically gave only slight relief. I felt the pain of love: I was burnt and hurt. I had started to learn about love from Johanna but being the fool I was, I was expecting happiness ever after between us: blissfulness and togetherness. But it was all a lie. My heart was not strong enough to take a lot of pain and thus it was left wounded and scarred. Fittingly, in 1975 the Nazareth hit “Love hurts” was released and played on the radio expressing the emotions I felt on this July day.

"love hurts, love scars, 
love wounds, and mars,
any heart, not tough,
or strong, enough
to take a lot of pain,
take a lot of pain
love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts

I'm young, I know,
but even so
I know a thing, or two
I learned, from you
I really learned a lot,
really learned a lot
love is like a flame
it burns you when it's hot
Love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts

some fools think of happiness
blissfulness, togetherness
some fools fool themselves I guess
they're not foolin' me

I know it isn't true, 
I know it isn't true
love is just a lie, 
made to make you blue
love hurts, ooh,ooh love hurts
ooh,ooh love hurts

I know it isn't true, 
I know it isn't true
love is just a lie, 
made to make you blue
love hurts, ooh ooh love hurts
ooh ooh love hurts
ooh ooh..."

That wonderful feeling of falling in love had now been shattered and turned into shear misery. Same as two years ago when Kimberley had rejected with her lovely letter, I did not want my mother, or anyone else for that matter, to see the pain was I was feeling. I kept the pain within me and I didn’t want any-one to know: I did not cry. But deep within me I was screaming from pain. My heart was crying: it was crying profusely. For three weeks I had been happy. Now all I had left was the heartache and pain.

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details

Truth is all an act in government exposed

One small little country which houses 
one of the highest paid governments 
in this modern world joke ran upside down

A big part of our life existing reality 
when the backbone is gone snakes appear with light surely 
we spend working for slave masters who get rich of our toils quickly

Paying us poor wages beneath worth middle men 
when fat cats do little honesty whips out 
fairness in the way of work very shy who cares

Because of what the banks done bonuses where paid 
to them that destroyed the building of our country 
highly qualified tradesmen left on the street

Without a shred of pity unemployment has risen 
all our young have left to foreign lands few have returned
tens of thousands I mean addressing it truthfully

Unemployment has not changed hidden secrets spill beans 
there is few jobs in our county facts on the streets speak 
job seekers they call us now with branding irons

Builders can build this country to glory again
yet now we are classed of little worth sent out to sweep streets 
picking up the rubbish where we belong former taxpayers

Corruption when you feel the sadness of truth 
involved in the structure of thousands of homes 
hotels petrol stations even the construction of prisons

Now we are worthless on the streets of our own land 
at a time we were the highest taxpayers of this state 
we now pick up the bankers tab and effects from Europe's deal

Honesty has a funny way of drawing pictures 
lucky our state does not protect innocent people anymore 
without evidence I was arrested on German hear say

My family suffered seeing what I was going through 
long gone is the days of our state justice 
not one person of the state said sorry when I won my case

Held in chains this is my truth If my country would of stood 
up for me as there was no evidence to support such claims 
In my battle kept down made me smarter opening my eyes

Claiming higher ground class beggars bowl out 
hands on now I am a builder one noble profession 
hard working people like us stand the test of time

Paddies we built the cities a legacy stands in concrete 
handed down from our forefathers trades 
hard working men and women of Erin

Sons and daughters worked the green land over
for centuries we have been raped and plundered 
cruelty our sovereignty has been stolen away from us

State owed by the people oil under our soil talk of gold 
enough gas to heat our little island sold out shame 
with out the consent of its citizens power of attorney give

Setting wages to suit elite bodies opens the eyes closed 
non profitable businesses paid by taxpayers government 
Unfair grounds bared selling rights away trail of tears

Keeping people at the lower end scales silver justice 
slaves unto the organ grinders note forced correct term 
There goal is so undemocratic politically set falsehood lies

Forced down so they will not rise the poor struggle 
uneducated fools behind veils we see Holy smoke 
Minimum wage a complete and utter joke

Unlivable as prices soar out of control insurance rockets 
for toughest jobs beneath suits employed struggling 
be realistic we receive a pension at seventy respect

I cannot stop laughing at stupidity when it strikes a funny key 
bones aching approaching middle age life's labour exposed 
wore done from years of sweat even blood dripped

Joke of the century double standards stop for a moment 
hiding away with your secret pacts undisclosed truths reveal 
for the workers vote government bodies take note think

Should be the same all around lead by example set down 
we fought against slavery once before our forefathers 
freedom and civil rights for the working class to speak

Middle class has almost been deleted from society 
as monies are less and the work load doubled 
for peanuts a third of the value meaning work until death

Logic rents in cities increase backwards peddling rotten apples 
as the vice like grips society happiness is rare and beautiful 
Long hours less holidays in most cases very true

Homeless has risen to an all time high 
hospitals people are dying on trolleys fact 
even cutting funding to the disabled beneath par

Grants are cut in the arts field to virtually nothing 
roads are in disrepair in dark wet nights dangerous 
without cats eyes a safety risk to motorists meeting

Motor tax is daylight robbery only new cars have little tax 
hitting those less well off playing the game 
property tax laugh a minute after paying tax on materials

Now water tax another con to control natural energy 
our seas are being plundered as quotas are enforced 
by Europe on our seas controlled without out consent

Do we bend over as a people backwards as our riches are stolen 
do we know or learn any lessons from past tense democracy 
taxes make it better for our children they say

Long gone are the days people trading from their toils 
organic healthy food sold in small shops from local farmers market 
past tense fresh milk in a bottle was always beautiful to drink

Even milk is not the same as they fill it now with substitutes 
no such thing as fresh eggs in the supermarkets or meat 
everything has been sold to big co operatives

My granny told the same story struggling away back 
our country is going backwards in time controlling food 
people have lost the meaning of life

Poisonous goods sold in shops Gmos 
next it will be steroid filled meat nothing healthy anymore 
even farms have shut down emigration so many young gone

Why a country is beginning to cut the elderly 
leaving it cold a cruel blow in truth for those now retired 
They believed the lies but i don't

Now seeing so many of the straws that breaks a camels back 
looking through the needle eye of greed no remorse 
instead we struggle on in our every day hardships right

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

Give Me a Second to Breathe part 2

Pre-chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe and feel a pleasant sensation
Drench me with your waterfall of wonderfulness 
You refuse to do so and you douse me in dismay and I'm left in my solitary wilderness

Chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
I need to breathe in happiness and breathe out sadness
I'm dealing with a fistful of frustration that brings hardly any satisfaction
I need to breathe in gladness and breathe out distress...that threw into a misery mess
I don't care if I have the face my fears everyday 
I do care for you, if only you'd wipe away my dismay 
Give me a second to breathe in ease
I'll just do whatever I please while you act like a tease

Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe, so I can keep up with my eager heart, beating with anticipation
Give me a second to breathe and feel a pleasant sensation

Chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
I need to breathe in happiness and breathe out sadness
I'm dealing with a fistful of frustration that brings hardly any satisfaction
I need to breathe in gladness and breathe out distress...that threw into a misery mess
I don't care if I have the face my fears everyday 
I do care for you, if only you'd wipe away my dismay 
Give me a second to breathe in ease
I'll just do whatever I please while you act like a tease

Verse 5: My luck runs low and I can't remember the last time I was happy
You sucked the positivity out of my mind and you scorched me with foolish passions so temporary 
You were sweet as sugar, yet bitter like wormwood honestly 
Endless night has fallen upon us
Wishing we're in the same bus 
You lassoed me with your lament that night when you cried silently
Instead of breathing in and out, dip your head in the waters of wisdom and hold your breath...you'll see...
Wonders beyond what your sight can capture 
I know our futures are a mighty blur...

Pre-chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe and feel a pleasant sensation
Drench me with your waterfall of wonderfulness 
You refuse to do so and you douse me in dismay and I'm left in my solitary wilderness 

Chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe and feel a pleasant sensation
Drench me with your waterfall of wonderfulness 
You refuse to do so and you douse me in dismay and I'm left in my solitary wilderness 
Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
I need to breathe in happiness and breathe out sadness
I'm dealing with a fistful of frustration that brings hardly any satisfaction
I need to breathe in gladness and breathe out distress...that threw into a misery mess
I don't care if I have the face my fears everyday 
I do care for you, if only you'd wipe away my dismay 
Give me a second to breathe in ease
I'll just do whatever I please while you act like a tease

Bridge 2: Just let nature nourish our saturated souls that sponge in pain
Right from the start, you were the golden grain that thirsts for healing rain
Don't worry - God will take great care of you
Don't fret or sweat it - I am going to remain standing with you, no matter what we go through 
Give me a second to breathe...for I'm getting over my love flu that paints my spirits blue, not yellow
You fixed me like you were the mechanic, repairing a wreck of a car and you made me shine aglow
You told me that I am handsome all the time I looked in the mirror and told myself I looked hideous...somehow, you let my confidence grow
Low self-esteem is thrown out the bathroom window 
You're unpredictable like the wicked wind...not going with the flow, wondering where you blow, you know? 

Pre-chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
Give me a second to breathe and feel a pleasant sensation
Drench me with your waterfall of wonderfulness 
You refuse to do so and you douse me in dismay and I'm left in my solitary wilderness

Chorus: Give me a second to breathe...feeling this tension, this hesitation 
I need to breathe in happiness and breathe out sadness
I'm dealing with a fistful of frustration that brings hardly any satisfaction
I need to breathe in gladness and breathe out distress...that threw into a misery mess
I don't care if I have the face my fears everyday 
I do care for you, if only you'd wipe away my dismay 
Give me a second to breathe in ease
I'll just do whatever I please while you act like a tease

Verse 6: I want you to know that I need space for now, so leave me alone 
Give me some time to think things through clearly...give me a reason to live
Give me a minute to breathe until I can't breathe anymore...on my own...you didn't answer your phone 
Let me see this dilemma in the right perspective - let me take pace in this race of who to forgive
I will forgive you for leaving me behind
Felt jaded many times, so I don't mind 
I miss you, breathing here with me
I miss you, holding me tight, never setting me free
That's the way it should've been...
I must move on and repent of holding on to sin
My heart deep within has cradled faith close,
But it's paper-thin, so I, the hopeless boy, get hunted down by lows that haunt me with past humiliating woes
Defeated and dejected 
Give me a second to breathe in hope and breathe out dread

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

Used As An Experiment

Used As an Experiment

THE SILENCE IS BREAKING MEEEE….CAN’T YOU SEE?


V.1: Strong AS STEEL, wrapped up with silver, heartfelt ribbons
Give it to me – the rope of hope
You smoked me out like a cigarette…
Used like I’m an experiment…I mope…I mope…
I’ve been ruined a thousand times
Yet, I stayed strong – I never cried a tear

(pre-chorus)
You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you
(pre-chorus)
You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you

(chorus)
What am I supposed to do? 
Your hate internalized in me…
Don’t ask me to change – I sift out every single lie
Because I won’t stop believing in the Lord Most High
I burned in the dense flames, 
I churned…in the ocean of blames…
Remorse, calling me names

V.2: I bleed…you were my disease once upon a time
Visiting rehab in my head…
Addicted to you like a drug…
Abused and moved by you….
I don’t care about me anymore…
Disaster unfolds, trapped in your scorching RIBCAGE…
Restoring rage….you called me hideous names behind your breath
I’m like an absurd bird, longing to fly out of her cage
Now, I get you…I get your motives of abandoning me…. 
You neglected me…you stubborn, attention-seeker
You never listened to my acknowledging complements 

(pre-chorus)
You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you

(chorus)
What am I supposed to do? 
Your hate internalized in me…
Don’t ask me to change – I sift out every single lie
Because I won’t stop believing in the Lord Most High
I burned in the dense flames, 
I churned…in the ocean of blames…
Remorse, calling me names

V.3: You ditched me with heartless selfishness in your heart – you’re a 
devil! 
Your lips soaked up the poison in your heart…it cements
Deep inside of you…deep down inside…
Wait for me, so I can keep up with you…
I don’t care about me anymore…
Disaster unfolds, trapped in your RIBCAGE…
Restoring rage….burning wild like wild sage…
I’m like an absurd bird, longing to fly out of his cage
Don’t discard me – give your heart a break
Don’t hurt me – for Mount Heaven’s sake!

(pre-chorus)
 You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you

(chorus)
What am I supposed to do? 
Your hate internalized in me…
Don’t ask me to change – I sift out every single lie
Because I won’t stop believing in the Lord Most High
I burned in the dense flames, 
I churned…in the ocean of blames…
Remorse, calling me names

V.4: Loving you ain’t easy, that’s for shore…we never were a fine pair (you 
only lived for your own satisfactions)
Blameworthy – I seem to be these days
Get up from the ground and think better about your actions (For all I’ve 
stood for, you were never appreciative…I swam lonely in the pool of misery 
and despair)
Next time, leave the front door…
I’ve been wandering in the maze of bewilderment
Find your own way out of my labyrinth of lament
Dare to wonder where I’ve been?
In the cave of sin…caved in by sin…
Getting devoured in the lion’s den…

(pre-chorus)
 You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you

(chorus)
What am I supposed to do? 
Your hate internalized in me…
Don’t ask me to change – I sift out every single lie
Because I won’t stop believing in the Lord Most High
I burned in the dense flames, 
I churned…in the ocean of blames…
Remorse, calling me names

V.5: I don’t care anymore…
Disaster unfolds, trapped in your RIBCAGE…
Restoring rage…burning bright like a star with a tattooed scar
It feels so wrong to be in the dark, so far…so far…
Away from your charms…your warm, cuddly arms…
So far, I’ve been digging deep in your soul…
Anxiety banging at my skull…skull…
In my mind and heart again
Forget and forgive 
Feed the flames of uncertainty
You don’t deserve to die or live
Where shall I flee? Free me…

(pre-chorus)
 You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you
(pre-chorus)
 You’re getting by – I’ll let you through and go ahead and commit your 
crimes!
I have no fear in my young heart…I don’t bottle up fear
And I ain’t gonna shed a tear for you 
I’ll keep searching for the light with or without you

(chorus)
What am I supposed to do? 
Your hate internalized in me…
Don’t ask me to change – I sift out every single lie
Because I won’t stop believing in the Lord Most High
I burned in the dense flames, 
I churned…in the ocean of blames…
Remorse, calling me names

V.6: Yet, I stayed strong – I never cried a tear
I’ve been ruined a thousand times
Used like I’m an experiment…I mope…I mope…
You smoked me out like a cigarette…
Give it to me – the rope of hope
On my own, feeling like I don’t belong – wrapped up with blue, heartless 
ribbons


THE DISTRESS ABYSS IS SUCKING ME UP – RELEASE MEEEEE….

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

The Inception: The Dark Side of Me

I’m broke without your love to repair me…

My young heart breaks into two and you push on the brakes…

Three strikez…you’re owt…. Get lost….that is my only plea

Our lives were at stake and we were taking way tooooo many risks…for my cat’s 9 sakes

We were 1…whatever happened to that?
Who release the rat? Was that you, cat?
We are 2…what’s wrong with you? 
Why did you lose your other shoe?
There it goes again…. ……… 

Let the pain I inflict upon you 
Internalize for a second or two
You filled my cup half empty…
You ran me over by words of deception
Why did I fall in love so easily? 
How come I fall victim to you?
Flames of uncertainty overwhelm my heart…
This is only the inception
Get up from the ground, you sheepish animal
Try your best to lift your head above the surface
Dead carcasses of negativity surround you now…
Your only hope is to grab the rope of hope,
But first let me grab it for you…
*we’re made as one…body….* said the voice in my head … …. …….. ……..
You need to rest on my shoulders for the meantime
Shocked out of the bloo…. Left without a clue
Don’t touch me…don’t lust over me…
I can see dirty secrets in your eyes of envious glee…
You knocked me out by your avalanching grace
Thought of you, drowning in the waters of woe…
You touched my heart in many ways…
You blew things into proportion…but it was “one of dose dayz”
You don’t even get the clues that I show you right in your face
I reveal to you my heart’s passion
And…you….tore…me…apart….
Can…you….just…take…heart….?
You take over me…you haunt me…
I step forward and you step backward…
Breathe into me…let me borrow your eyes…
Let me view the world in your eyes…
I want to know something…
I’m curious of what lies behind your sea-whirling eyes
Love me…DO please me…
the abyss is kissing me…
HATE ME…don’t COMFORT ME…
the light is fading out…
i need u
i want u
s p a y s e d  o w t  a l l  o v e  d e h  s u h h d d i n
mY LiFe IS fUlL oF errors…it ees a mezzzzzz
*IT’S TIIIIIME TO CLEAN UP YOUR ACT…………* said the voice in my head
I want to be feeling your heartbeat against my chest
I see the world beneath my feats…I’m above all…
Ill-um-i-nate me with syllabic pleajsher
My heart is skipping out on beats…I’m missing out and abandoned like an orphan, relying on a weeping widow…she bit me with denial…I was a flaw from the start….unfreeze this heart of mine…I’m as joyous as a swine, but as insidious as a serpent…but I’m feeeeeeeelin’ fiiiiiine…..ssssssssshhhh! Don’t tell nobody…d o  n o t  tell ahhhh sssssssssingle ssssssoul…don’t ma-a-a-ake a sound….you pushed me down to the ground s= s= embarrassed…I’m ready for anything right now…I’m lost, wearing an upside down frown and feel me…the pain that beats me and shreds me like paper….useless paper…I’m shattering like glass…after the kid’s ball hits through it…he’s in awe and he runs away…he hides the evidence of his foolish throwing skillz – this price is blooming bigger like a rose in the paws of the beast…you ssssspiral out of shhhhhight…I waited for you…alone….but I’m not on my own……….I’m not made as one – I’m two again…you inflict pain upon my tortured, tear-jerking soul…your veins become serpentine
To my own…we share each other’s blood
You WILL feel my pain, bud
the pressure of your gravity pulled me down callously
Distracts scar me…in a lightyear moment
Caught in a sugar-coated bliss of a dream
GrAzE iN YOUR OWN MAZE
There’s No Medication To Heal This Hart-ake…
I ake…I crave cake…I bake in the oven…feelin’ like a flake…
GIMMEEEEE A CHANCE…
GIMMEEEEE A TRY
I stand strong…brain damaged by your words of calculus-complicated definitions 
I fell harder…dig in my mind… 
((((( . ))))) push me in the margins why don’t you? I’m that dot in the middle of the brackets 
I want something more than what life gives me right now
I fought…I fought 
But, I’m not satisfied…
I’m loathed by many…
Maybe that’s what I feel like at times – LOATHED BY ALL
I’m unique…I’m an angry guy…
I wish I wouldn’t act like a fly…
I’m entitled to your love…
I can’t fly away like a happy-go-lucky dove
Death ove you stix to me like a leach in my mind…………
I need not man’s wizzdumb…no, not right now….
I need God’s KINGDOM and wisdom
God’s Kingdom + His wisdom = peace on Earth
It’s not dat complicated…
Do me a favor and indulge yourselves in the delicacies of sin
Listen listen listen not to the lies…listen listen listen to the heart that beats from deep within
My heart is sinking……
Patience is the key to living life to the fullest
Acceptance is the key to freedom … just try your best to pass this diff-eh-colt test
I deserve you and your gifts
Envying your talents…that’s juzz bramazing…
: ( sad to the core, 
but I don’t want to sadden you anymore
This revealed my crazyyyy side…
This darkness submitted to me and said its vows like a mesmerizing, yet spellbindingly evil bride…
I’m under your shpell……..
Change your mind….
Tear me apart and crawl inside of my cranium of titaniumb bliss….
Hardening by the minute…I crawl back into my comfort shell
Bring me to life and undo these lies in my head….
I’ve overheard you saying: “It’s hard for me to figure you out”
Dreams of demented, dangerous desire enrapture me…
Don’t choke me with your polluted nature of twisted reverie 

Have you changed your mind about me?
How do I look in the eyes of the thief?
Suck it up…I put my shoes on and I cut off the laces…I know – I’m doing this for stupid reasons, but I’m still the boy that’s bold
Thhhose laces remind me of you and I, separated forever in reality…cruel departure embraced us…we were the clouds, growing cold…
Your hugs don’t feel the same anymore, you see?
Here’s a heart/|\kerchief to wipe away your grief… … …
. .
. .
. .

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by JW Earnings | Details

It's ME, not YOU

It's You, Not Me 

*this poem can be offensive and has naughty words*

It's all my fault
I put a gentle halt
I'm cold in my skin
You are warm with anger, disappointment and sadness from deep within

It's me, not you...it's not you, it's me 
This is the hardest break up I've ever done till I'm gone
Forgive me, that's my prayer plea
This is a battle of life and death never, ever won 

I don't wanna keep bringing you down...Can I have at least a month's break from dating and be single for the time being?I promise I won't get positive HIVI won't have unsafe sexI'll be hanging out with people as friends and that's it or FWBI just need time to get myself more serious in a relationshipI know we were gonna hang out and have a good time! The usual yeah I get it, but this is me speaking and not the bipolar.It's not your fault I'm making this decision or my fault. You didn't do anything that made me do it.I just need a vacation and have more freedom ...to give others a chance.Can you love me still as a friend? Could we be friends again and be close still...? Friends with benefits perhapsBecause I'm not ready for commitment and no, im not gonna be a slut because my decision is final.Don't make me feel guilty or make me feel like "oh, you just lost a very great person". My family doesn't even trust you. :( it's sad! I'd rather be with a girl than to go through all this shit just to be with a guy I still love with all my heart. I know we had sex, but it doesn't mean you own me until we get married.And no...it just won't work out. I'll have to break up with you only for this month or for as long as we see fit...Yes, I was on those dating and sex apps yeah yeah I'm sorry for cheating...and letting you down and being abusive to you. But, some things you do is offensive to me and I'm sensitive. I need someone who cares about m my feelings, not only sex.So this is it. X( Bye. I love you. It's best if we don't talk

It's me, not you...it's not you, it's me 
This is the hardest break up I've ever done till I'm gone
Forgive me, that's my prayer plea
This is a battle of life and death never, ever won 

I appreciate the things you did for me! Thank you very much 
I love you friend but only as a friend because I don't want to date anyone or be the slut you thought I was before. You said I was reverting to my old ways, but this year, I want to start new...so sorry our relationship didn't work out till my birthday as expected. I'm serious about this decision...I love you, but I have to dump you because I care for you and your religion and mine too goes against homosexuality and that goes by everyone I associate with too on those apps. I'm not supposed to be on those apps in the first place.
If you want me back, know that my love towards you more than friendship is no more. I can't handle seeing you hurt by my mistakes...and getting frustrated with me and calling me names and reminding me of the past.
Don't hurt yourself. 
Don't...hurt...myself...
Don't kill yourself. 
Don't...kill or thrill...myself...
If I heard you did, I will do it too don't do it
I love you but this is my last good bye - thanks for being faithful, loyal, awesome, generous and loving. But I must go...I have put you through so much already, so let's just be friends.
Don't beg to be any more than friends or I'll block you. :/
I'm not trying to sound mean or anything but I love you and thats is why I did this - because it's good for both of us not to be together. It was just not meant to be.
Pardon my long messages. I must depart. Be single. Be a free bird, embracing it's independence without limits or barriers to fly into.
I felt trapped when we were together and I like open relationship rather...but I've learned from this experience and it's not all for not...I just need to do repentance to the Lord Most High and put it in His hands
You wanted to leave me deep down I know it.
It's the real me talking, not bipolar like you said.
I don't want to hurt you, but to fix things up a notch. Breaking up is for the better good. Holding on to you will be for the worse good.
Thanks for being the best boyfriend I had so far...but I need release and you drove me nuts like a car...
You ran me over with words of plenty and of silence in between relentlessly and recently, I took advantage of you and was a free loader back then and vise versa 
Well, goodbye, friend and lover
You and I can find yet another

It's me, not you...it's not you, it's me 
This is the hardest break up I've ever done till I'm gone
Forgive me, that's my prayer plea
This is a battle of life and death never, ever won 

Before I crash down upon the floor in shame,
I'm recollecting the emotions that flood my mind
These unfaithful past decisions hunt me like game
In my head for hours each and every day...letting time heal me and God to no longer make me blind...letting the wounds stitch up and your words unwind
In my bewildered head
What have I done? I broke up with him instead
But I had to in dread
Or I'll never be single like I wanted to because I'm not ready for commitment and I was a flirty player...
FWB and hookups was what I was looking for and I admit and you're right all along - I was lusting for pleasure behind measure 

"Don't drop the soap"
Those comments should be illegal - a nope-nope
"Don't do the 69's that those gay people do"
I hate when people stereotype homosexuality without having a clue what the true, diverse meanings of it is...the thought of it is giving me a mind flu
Gross terms plants a reality in my fantasy 
I daydream with my muse germs playfully...with intensity and roughness mindlessly...

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2016

Long Poems