Long Hit on Poems

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In the Realm of Shadows

“Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
                I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
                your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
                Psalm 23:4


Teach me, my Lord, how to live according
words of the Spirit and daily the Bible trust,
neither resentment, nor anger, or rancour hoarding,
for to be merciful and forgiving I must.

I’m in the realm of shadows, where hearts are harder
and where Satan is ruling, our common foe.
Help me to love you, Lord, with a greater ardour,
if in the darkest valley I have to go.

How to live in this world, where darkness abounds?
things are absurd, and sins are becoming laws,
where demonic force more and more surrounds,
quietly at my heart anxiety gnaws.

Something’s disturbing me, I can’t tell, it’s blurry,
but in the world of fraud, deceit, and intrigue,
possibly it’s for my children some deepest worry
or maybe I am struck by regrets or fatigue.

The callous world is deaf to God’s revelations
and to suppress the truth it frantically tries,
a shroud of falsehood envelops entire nations,
minds of people are trapped in the devil’s lies.

I am, it seems, in this world no longer needed,
and sleepless nights, perhaps, my hopes erode.
Yet, in my deepest core I cannot be defeated,
faith in You, Lord Jesus, cannot corrode.

Should I dare to grumble, if even You,
God in the flesh, walked on earth on the dusty roads,
tiredness and fatigue so well You knew,
overwhelmed with people's complaints loads.

Should I bemoan my losses, when even You,
being abandoned by friends at the biased trial,
with the exception of very few,
and you experienced then your disciple’s denial.

Should I groan from hurt, when the King of kings,
You by the Roman guards were hit on the face,
You, the Creator, from whom any life springs,
with Your forgiveness repentant sinners embrace.

Being betrayed, and spat at, and crucified,
with mocking crowds of mob laughing at You,
You for their sins on the cross had died,
staying to God alone faithful and true.

Risen from death to life, You are giving hope,
when in this darkened world any hope dies.
Setting my heart on You, I can now cope,
and from my grief and pain my soul can rise.

26.01.2022

This is an English version of my poem
"? ???? ?????" http://stihi.ru/2022/01/24/482
Form: Rhyme


Time To Go Insane

I must’ve went wrong somewhere,
Becoming too much to bare,
Everything’s been lost,
My soul was the cost.
This mess burnt up my last shred of sanity,
I long for it to be cleaned,
There’s only one I trust,
Longing change before I bust,
Now all I can think is what is wrong,
With people, with me, the world? It’s been so long.
Since everything was okay,
Since you didn’t stay.
Lonely wasn’t thought,
Questioning everything I’ve fought.
Without hope and care,
Standing in front of the mirror,
This just can’t be fair.
Why does it have to be so hard?
If you look at it optmisticly, it’ll just be another scar.
Too bad my optimism has run out,
Nothing else to care about.
And then I laugh.

I’m tired of listening,
I’m tired of getting hit on,
I’m tired of the snobs getting in my way.
Of the bastards taking everything away.
Now I can feel it rising,
I see my vision blurring,
I burn another leaf,
While my thoughts are stirring.
It’s clear now though,
Only one answer that’s true,
Beating someone’s face until it’s black and blue.
It’s no longer feeling any stranger,
To let loose of this anger.
These maggots are finally going to get what’s coming to them,
At one point,
I was hoping that this isn’t how it would end.
Now I want to embrace it,
Make the most of it,
I enjoy every damn second of it.
Now when some drama starting, waste of skin,
Throws one of their fits,
I’m gonna make sure their mouth is shut for good, I’ll see to it.
Looking back on the lower ground I once stood.
When that cheating fake, or big disgrace screws something up for me,
I won’t waste anytime before making them bleed.
That self medicating,
Child Molesting,
Animal abusing,
Piece of meat, is going to regret,
Blocking my road, 
I’ll be someone they’d wish they’d never met.
They don’t understand,
I don’t care who they are,
Or if someone took their land,
Or came and repoed their car.
If the banks collected their home,
Only thing I care about now,
Isn’t getting stoned,
It’s not searching my phone,
Not hearing another teenager moan,
Can’t you see?
All the simple pleasures mean nothing to me.
So you better start getting read to flee,
Lock the back door, and swallow the key.
Angers infesting me, turning towards insanity,
The only thing left I care about… Is Me.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Monoku Monday - Feb 2021

"Book Worms"   Posted 1 Feb 2021

i'm reading a book about anti-gravity      I can't put it down

that bio of Led Zeppelin's guitarist      is a real Page turner

don't miss this: "Dummies For Dummies"    by Charlie McCarthy and Lamb Chop

i'll admit there is a time and place for books      in my hand and right now

in one college course we read books about candy      the class was Choc Lit

today I got hit on the head by a book      I have my shelf to blame

[humor attribution: all humor found online of unknown origin]


"But Weight, There's More"   Posted 8 Feb 2021

for some of us during COVID      overeating is a weigh of life

when i feel plump i tell myself      i'm not overweight, i'm undertall

those who sell books on dieting      are living off the fat of the land

darwin's theory of sumo wrestling      the survival of the fattest

during lockdown, i'm on the seafood diet      i see food, i eat it

i saw my doctor and asked him what kind of shape i'm in      he said "pear"

[humor attribution - all were found online, of unknown origin]


"Groucho Marx Edition"   Posted 15 Feb 2021

if i said you had a gorgeous body      would you hold it against me?

i would never belong to a club     that would have me as a member

be open minded      but not so open minded that your brains fall out

i never forget a face      but in your case, i'll make an exception

i have had a perfectly wonderful evening      but this wasn't it

those are my principles and if you don't like them, well,       I have others

All humor attributed to the inimitable Groucho Marx


"Occupational Hazards"   Posted 22 Feb 2021

my dentist's motto      be true to your teeth or they will be false to you

bakers trade recipes with each other      on a knead to know basis

I called a budget exterminator     he came with a flyswatter

the butcher backed into the meat grinder      and got behind in his work

a back- and neck-straightener in Egypt is called      a Cairo practer

don't call me a plumber      I am a "broker in new and used water"

[Humor attribution - all humor found online, attribution unknown]
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Monoku

Medic On the Scene

Along for the ride, in a convoy, is the medic.
Dressed for battle, with fellow soldiers, outside the wire.
Equipped is the medic, of the necessities,
to prevent a soldier, from a battle, to ever expire.

Us soldiers, are looking out the window, 
from our vehicles, at the garbage, and the rubble.
Searching for explosives, embedded, in disguise,
that must be removed, right in the double.

Continuing onward, continuing with mission,
all the vehicles are driven, at a very slow pace.
Us soldiers, are then able, to be, more aware,
of our surroundings, and the enemy, that we face.

But sometimes us soldiers, are really lucky,
and sometimes us soldiers, are really not.
But this time, at this very moment, unfortunately,
us soldiers, were hit on the very spot.

Boom! A vehicle now gets hit,
quickly reacting, is all soldiers, to this episode.
All soldier's points of view, now becoming changed,
with all soldiers, now in, extreme survival mode.

360 degree security, with gunners sweeping,
targeting for the culprits, whom took, the actual stand.
While vehicles are boxing in, the damage vehicle,
giving protection, for the soldiers, giving a helping hand.

Medic expediently, out there, one by one,
seeing after every injured soldier, on the scene.
Investigating and stringent, in giving care,
which to outsiders, may seem, to be, so mean.

The medic has only, so much care, to disperse,
to suffice, the outcome, for all soldiers, to survive.
The medic therefore, must take a risk,
and predicate the odds, of whom, will stay alive.

According to, the many injuries suffered,
upon the injured soldiers, in display.
Medic must then decide critically, in order, whom then goes,
to the hospital, from those, still having, to stay.

At the same time, for those soldiers staying behind, a medic,
gives their best effort, with the least items, that they got.
Especially for those seriously injured, for moral sake,
of those, whom chances, of surviving, are not a lot.

The duties of the medic, is definitely, not easy,
to be the soldier, to have, to truly, make this call.
Especially at war, after this tragedy, wondering,
if the care given, to a soldier, was their entire all.
Form: Rhyme

@ Ryan Emerald, the Jerk Who Belongs In the Dirt

ok, heres the scoop
your words
just made me recoop
i realized that you used me
i feel used. 
but you shoudl feel that way too
cause i used you
and your new girl
she made me hurl
she is so ugly
she looks like a cow and a pig combined
and she is useing you
did you buy her a necklace yet?
 perhaps a braclet?
i did not want your money
i did not want your gifts
i wanted you for you, supposedly
because i thought you wanted me
i guess i thought wrong.
so i wrote this song
to tell you how i feel
you make my skin crawl
with your greasy hair
and your ugly face
your freak-ish body odor
and your alcoholic mother
yea, speakin of her
she hit on my mother,
made my mom scared, never went back
same with me. 
and if im such a liar, 
such a cryer, 
then you are gullible.
very, very, very gullible.
you believed every word of my supossed lies.
so the next time you think you can pull that card, think again.
and you are a man-Whore.
very trampy.
the nice little poem of you and your ugly cow
haveing sex
yea, you made that up. 
and i think you are trying to make me jealous. so let me try that too.
when me and you where together,
Brandon Jones was enjoying my body too.
you think you used me?!
you have another thing comeing for you
i have many tales to tell about the rendevous
that Brandon and I shared.
night time romps. 
fun times.
so if you think you can make me upset.
think again.
and also, you look like job of the hut.
and you look like you ate the burger bandit from Mc.Donalds.
you wanna slam me?
you wanna start World War III?
then  you came to the right place honey.
so come one, start some crap
i'll tell you where to go and how to get there.
i can take the rap
so bring it on, you know me well, 
you know that fighting me is not swell
so bring it on
and you will see
when i have the life you wont have, you alcoholic-to-be slob
when i have the american dream, i will rub the white picket fence and 2.5 kids in your cake 
covered face
and show you that i am more of a girl than you will ever have
so have fun with yourlife, 
cause you just got slammed.
so deal with it,
you jerk who belongs in the dirt.
let the war begin.
© Dani Sousa  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Thru Maritime Miles 3-A Very Pirate Seduction

For merely a hunch or a hint of a kiss
I nearly was lunch for a hit on a miss
She shimmied for me in a short pirate skirt
No army of men was a match for this flirt

I started to flee in the face of a rout
She called me at once and she turned me about
In only a bit I was back to her side
My courage was hit by the lack of my pride

She puckered for me like a heady young lass
My body was tuckered but ready for class
She stood there like cream that was ready to pour
I knew that my dream was too good to ignore

I almost was tempted to go back to work
The job of a pirate is nothing to shirk
The thrill of the moment was pressed in my mind
No luck of the lady would leave me behind

My greatest concern was the captain's own good
Who surely would kill for the lass if he could
Or hate me and weight me in deep-water drink
The fate of a date with his daughter, I think

My mind was prepared to be pared or adored
Or find that she scared me and there'd be a sword
A weapon to thrill me and fill me with fun
Or maybe to kill me and spill me when done

For these inhibitions, I needed more time
My living traditions were not in their prime
Perhaps she would thank me or think I was shy
Or maybe just spank me for getting her high

Her lips were still puckered in place of a pout
In only a moment my luck would run out
To tease her for naught would be tempting my fate
But that's what you get when you balk at the bait

I knew she despised me for acting so dumb
But then she surprised me with bottles of rum
I figured she liked me and wanted me bad
Or maybe she spiked me with something she had

She shuffled my way with a sly, subtle grin
A silent rebuttal to scuttle my sin
She stood on my feet and we giggled like fools
Then matter-of-factly she rattled my jewels

I fell in a heap as she ripped her own dress
Her daddy would beat me and make me confess
I knew that my chance to survive was not good
A pitiful dance on a long plank of wood

I knew that I lost on my very worst date
A victim of love to my scary first mate
Her guile was more than you miss in a lass
But that's what you get when you kiss out of class.
Form: Rhyme

Somewhere Quiet

When December hit on that one beautiful Sunday it snowed.
Children were quite perplexed , adults too seemed excited.
It was the day marked in the calendar right next to me:
7th December 1871.
Earth is having a natural reset it seems says an old gentleman,
But I'm not a big fan of these snow old man, says a kid slowly,
But you'll have to bear it kid this is just the start.
Everyone in the old town looked happy.
It was the first snowfall there in ages,
But the kid is not impressed.
The old town in Czech looked something straight out of a fairytale
Too unreal to believe.
So cool and beautiful that even the kid started smiling again.
He smiled again after all the pain that this town went through.
He lost his family
Lost his little sister that wanted to draw better than her brother,
Lost his father who always carried him on his back,
Lost the mother who was his everything.
It has been six months after that bomb
Six months and so much changed.
All the children are now looking up
Everyone is safe,
Everyone is eating good.
The good old memories of past doesn't matter
If they can make a better future.
This old body of mine can't give them all the happiness alone.
The old gentleman is now too old.
The winter evening, the snows and the snowman
Kids enjoying their first winter.
Enjoying life for the very first time.
Soon they all will grow up
Grow up to become someone who knows how to protect others and stay protected from others.
And when you die , die alone.
And I, that kid, grew up to look again at the town and release that this was happiness!
I don't really remember other
Except the old man.
Me sitting at my window looking at the present calendar,
Marked date : 7th December 1913.
It's been 42 years I'm now 50 but the war is not over.
I guess there won't be anything left here tomorrow when the war will be all over.
And hence for the very last time I turn my back to this place
Remembering my lost friends and family and the old man.
And continued my March alone in the winter evening.
I will die as a soldier, I'll die as a fighter , I'll die somewhere quiet just like the old man said.
© Samir Raj  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Sonnet

It Starts Within

Growing up you see nothing but the good
You’re taught that if you treat someone right, you get understood
Pure, that's how you enter the world
Most may say
But where does that all change
When did you go from loving with your all to disrespecting everything?

She was in middle school when she was called fat
She still remember to this day who said it to her
It stuck to her, and she's near her 20s
She don't think she will ever feel secure
It hurt
It hurts a lot
She felt disrespected
Yes she did
Messed her up mentally

Growing up her parents told her
"Sweetie, you are fat"
"Sweetie, you need to lose weight"
Insecurity, that's what she’s stuck with
The people who should love and cherish her
The people who should take her for who she is
The people who should respect her
Disrespected her emotionally.

Dudes hit on her like she is a piece of meat
With a 
"Let me see what’s under all that"
Or a
"Omg! Look at that ass"
And a 
"Girl, you know you want this D"
That’s the attention she gets
That’s the only attention she get
So she takes it and it becomes okay.

Emotionally disrespected
Mentally imprinted within
And she don’t even know

She grew to become a woman she never thought she’d be
Finding love in all the wrong places
She let that sorry piece of crap hurt her
She let him disrespect her
"Trash come here" 
And a 
“Don’t get that ass beat”
Ending with a
“You know who daddy is”
Disrespectful that’s what is.

Since when was this okay?
Since when was this just whatever.
When did this all start you may ask.
It all started when she didn’t get the love she deserve.
It started when that guy called her fat.
It started when her mom called her ugly
It started when her dad called her fat
It started when she gave in
It started when she disrespected herself.

Possible yes it is
She disrespected herself when she didn’t stand up for herself.
And when you don’t love or respect yourself, how would you know to see it.
And that’s how it is. 
Respect starts within, and without out no one will respect you Ever.
© Nancy Phan  Create an image from this poem.

A Man

A Man

Now that im older I catch myself reflecting on the things I do, my father use to do when he’s stressing; once he bit his lip and his eyes twitched,then you were in ****, I saw him shoot the phone out of my moms hand over some gossiping ****,sank a paint brush in his nephew head for asking to have sex in my bed.  He shot my uncle in his ass, then brought his way out the bid. He couldn’t sleep at night, he had insomnia from his younger years in drama. He showed me how to be a man despite he use to hit on my momma. He was the only father I knew or wanted to know. I wasn’t even  a seed that he planted but he nurtured to grow. He told me “Son it’s a thin line between a friend and a foe and never hold court in the streets if you really aint ready to blow”, “always put your family first; numero uno; cause when worse come to worse they gonna carry your casket, bare your burdens because Marcus only death is certain,” Maybe that’s why I hit the block so hard and always shot first, because I was scared to get scarred and Imma play the hand that they dealt me dad down to its last card. Why does it seem harder to bring forth life then it is to take it? But I got faith like the rappers Jada and Styles that im gonna make it! And I know that I got a temper but I got it from you I use to steal your cigarettes hoping that smoking would make me more like you. But the difference between a boy and a man is his morals and principals its not what you do but how its done that makes a difference. Like its not what you say but how its said that’ll make people listen. See a fulfilled life is when you die and the whole world know you missing. I know it hurt you to your heart that I spent so much of my life in prison, my mistakes, my faults, had nothing to do with you. You and my mom did more than your job; yall didn’t force me to rob. But the streets was my soul and it pump the block through my heart. But I guess destiny had a plan in the help of shaping a man and from Attica to Clinton chose to give destiny a helping hand……Here I am:  A man!
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Denser Not Mensa Part 1- Collaboration

An old gal applied to join Mensa
Gee she couldn’t be any denser
She went in the wrong door
On the thirty third floor
And there she enrolled as a fencer

When attending her first fencing class
A man scored a hit on her huge ass
She screamed out so loud
It drew quite a crowd
She cannot abide failure – its crass!

WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON


She hollered and screamed for a medic
I swear it was worse than a dead duck
one without any wings
oh the horror she sings
she's much more than dense she's pathetic

WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH

She swore that she really could spell 
And in math she did surely excel 
But once she felt pain
All she did was complain 
And whined as her sore butt did swell.

WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN

That old gal then became a method actor
but one thing soon became a huge factor
she forgot all her lines
her mentality declines
now she sputters like a John Deere tractor

WRITTEN BY LIN LANE

Her butt was so sore she bought leeches
Gently placing them in her breeches
To suck out the bruise
We could hear her oooh's
I felt sorry for the poor creatures

Her butt was so big like a whale
all that was missing was it's tail
so they stuck a flag up her ****
called it the new Khyber pass
she went a whiter shade of pale.

WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS

"Am I smart?" is what she kept asking
In glory she hoped to be basking.
Suddenly she farted.
The whole room departed.
Now finding fresh air is their tasking.

WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART

She sat for the test with all smiles
Filled out the forms and the files
But she spelled her name wrong
Became twisted of tongue
And was thrown to the crocodiles.

WRITTEN BY RICHARD D SEAL


07-17-17

Seems the old gal was a talented tart
Clearing the room with but one single fart
Wiping their eyes
All those wise guys
Soundly applauded her flatulent art

WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS

07-18-17
Form: Limerick

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