Long Lashed out Poems
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Enemys throughout, the day they very met
fighting tooth and nail,with both warrior hearts
dominance of the town,being the ultimate prize
hatred adding fuel,enlighting inferno to prevail.
My best pal from knee high,would rather do without
the confrontations hanging on him
i will call the oppostion shaun, although fine with me
thriving fear,bullying yet an awesome stature.
The fatal night in question,etched in many minds
a long long fight ended,my pal oblivious towards
a knife was placed into his hand,while recieving extreme beating
lashed out,everything stopped,pal overcome with relief.
At court not guilty verdict,the jury did return
on the basis of harrassment, and all that it entailed.
Yet families effected,can see it from both sides
loss and freedom,though my pal lives with everyday.
Paul Beadnall
Sponsor Susan Burch
Contest Name Getting Away with Murder/Murderous Thoughts
Cowboys in the Badlands
The horses need be reined tightly
lest they show better judgment
and head back to the barn. The
cowboys, driven by the dust cloud
of following hoof beats, were less smart.
A Gila monster smirks as they pass
knowing what waits ahead is to be
more painful than the rope they flee.
Driven by the torments of a lost war,
a lost home, a lost dream, they had
lashed out at the hunger, fled the
hovels of a shanty town and swore
to exact payment any way possible.
The consequences of the decision
pursued them, consumed them,
as they rested the horses. The horses
must rest, they never would.
They stood overlooking the badlands,
shimmering heat’s forever fallacy,
that somehow you would cross to
safety, find an oasis, escape. Oh,
you may escape the posse, maybe
even the past, but you will not
escape the bitterness of these
bad lands and their unforgiving
demands. Few have come here
willingly, fewer have remained
once tested by the dryness, the
drought, the wind, sand, and
anger of a land seeking to be
left alone. And so they rode into
the abyss of sand and stone
leaving only the hoof prints
of fading memory. Bandanas
covered their faces, hat brims
covered their eyes. They rode
until the horses fell, unable to
continue. Horseless, they staggered
in the shifting sands laughing
as they recalled staggering from
the saloon on that awful night.
The night they gave up, the night
they gave in to the desperate desire
to be free. A desire that was now
to be fulfilled in these Bad Lands.
For Isaiah Zerbst – Cowboys in the Badlands poetry contest
9/15/2014
Right now I feel depressed
I thought I had all my old
awful memories repressed
but with a swift kick, and a scowl
all plus more have regressed
I keep losing my baby girl
over and over and over again
my head is in a swirl
getting up out of bed, ha
not even my finger can I twirl
bright happy thoughts turn black
the nightmares become real
tired of being the one who is attacked
I haven't done anything wrong
why do I keep coming back
little they believe how I love my child
for when she changes her mood
she pushes me until I too am riled
she is angry I left, and can’t be there
so she demands everyone my exile
she lashed out with a sharp tongue
she doesn't understand her hate
am I all who know she is young
because we argued in public
everyone now wants me strung
being without her hurts more than life
I have struggled for years
tossing and turning every night
desperate that I can't be a mother
to show the world how this isn’t right
I know suicide is not an answer
from all the abuse I endured
leaving him meant chancing her
who fooled us all being two-faced
his bullets at my feet, I'm but a dancer
patience is my only avenue
waiting out this hellish nightmare
and everything they put me through
still I tell her on a constant basis
Here I stay to wait for you
-FrankiiFame
I gently stroked her neck, as she lay calm,
and ran my fingertips along her back,
although surprised, she didn't seem alarmed
quickly relaxed, with both her shoulders slack.
But seconds later I increased my grip,
pinning her face down upon the bed,
panic set in, she tried her best to slip
out from my grasp, she writhed, twisting her head.
She cried, lashed out, and managed to draw blood,
I gasped in pain, but still I held on tight,
despite all her attempts, it proved no good
she now lay still, had given up the fight.
Few things in life are much harder than that
of trying to put flea drops on a cat.
Two mothers who never met were connected by tragedy, murder and death.
They gave birth to two different offspring that in one moment would alter both women’s lives.
Violet did her best to raise James in a gang infested neighborhood.
Lettice was a wild spirit living on the edge and highly misunderstood.
Violet worked two jobs while Lettice worked her mouth for a living.
Fast talking Lettice gave birth to Cosmo, who supported his mother by drug dealing.
“Stay away from the streets” said Violet. “Education will one day be your way out, son.”
She didn’t know he would be leaving sooner--the day he encountered Cosmo holding a gun.
James refused to go down without a fight, before collapsing from bullet wounds.
Soon Cosmo was arrested and later escorted inside a crowded courtroom.
In court Violet lashed out, but Lettice quickly lashed back at the distraught lady.
“It’s your dead son’s fault,” screamed Lettice. “So don’t blame this on my baby!”
Cosmo was sentenced to 20 years as Lettice broke down, consumed by pain and hurt.
Violet shook her head and said, “How can she cry like that when mine is in the dirt?”
“A mother’s pain times two equals two losses and no wins,” cried Violet.
“Losing a child is something I don’t wish on anyone, not even you!”
Shoulders slumped, Lettice looked at Violet, gritted her teeth, and screamed, “Is that all?”
Two grieving mothers, but while Lettice has 20 years, Violet will have a lifetime of tears to fall.
Lettice didn’t care abut Violet’s pain. Her only concern was her child and nothing else.
Until she received a call from prison a few months later. “Sorry to inform you, ma’am, but your son hung himself.”
With tears in her eyes from hearing what no parent wants to hear, she thought of Violet and dropped the phone.
It’s truly a shame when no one cares about another person’s pain until that pain is made their own.
Death had tied up my wrists the day I dawned,
With a thick rope
And had dragged me along
On the tortuous ways of life
Going wherever it had willed
Laughing at nothing in particular
And minding not
The laments and the cries
That I lashed out at it
Trying to tell it to stop it
As I am suffering and paining!
Pray, life is ruled by Death
As it hovers over us
Doing whatever it wants to us
Leading us to uncertainty
And having us merely submit to it
As if it were our Grand Master
And we, its submissive slaves!
Death, cried I
Enough! I have had enough,
The skin on my whole body is blistered
And blood is oozing out from every nook
I feel so cold, so hurt,
So abandoned, so lost,
Death, please, stop this agony that you are
Making me go through
Stop it
If ending it would give me comfort,
Pray, then such is what I seek
And have been seeking all the time
You have been playing this cruel game with me!
But, if ending it would simply have me
Tangled in another one of your games,
Then, I wish solely to turn into nothingness
Where I would enjoy the silence of eternal darkness!
Why,
After what you are making me go through,
I am sure that darkness would feel like a bed of soft candy!
Untie me, Death,
I know not why you hate me so much,
Why you make me suffer
I have been through enough of it already
And I seek your pardon!
Pray, listen, turn not your deaf ears on me
Untie my wrists
And give me
My freedom!
My Faults bleed fear
Shout with anger
Ooze regret
Lavish in the art of feeling sorry for myself
Haunt my very existence
Nights cold
Days unbearing
My faults have defined me
For so long
Unable to let it all go
And grow
Stuck in this place
This dreed of resolution
But there are no answers
No orientation of my fear
Just put there by my own disregard
A staple in all I have lived by
For so many years
So many missed opportunities
I lacked recognination
I lost all drive
I accepted the things as they were
I failed to see what life had gave me
Destroyed it all in a span of two years
Collided with made up thoughts
Demons of such a magnitude
It broke me down
Took it all away
I blame others for my demise
But in essence there was no one to blame but me
Six months to the day what a change began
Not by choice
Not be grace
But by jealousy
So much not enough
It consumed me
I still can not speak of these nightmares
I created them this imagination of a reality
But the reality was I had it all
When I was young when I fell hard
To the truth in so many lies
It wasn't me they lashed out on
It wasn't me they felt threatened by
It was them the scared little boy or girl
We all nourish
We feed its bright lights
But to be real in a place of confusion is hard
I still haven't climb out of that pit
But as I continue on this journey
I learn so much
I manifest so much more
I start to see where I could be
And all leads to me
It all leads to my love for myself
And yes it seems hard But I know it is so worth the sacrifice
To be able to say I love the man I have become
I will get there and so shall you
If you can accept these faults
Because these faults are what make you and me human.
Lost Rendezvous – My Valiant Knight
My valiant knight I had to see. I ran
into the woods for one last rendezvous.
November, unpredictable though, can
wreak melancholy, for a strong wind blew!
All sunlight vanished; it grew deathly cold.
And in the gloaming, crystal sky became
as ash! To think this day that promised gold
brought only misery, yet still the flame
of passion for the man I loved still burned
as limbs of frosted trees like hoary men
lashed out at me. The knight for whom I yearned
I could not find. I’d not see him again.
Great pathos floods my soul forevermore.
My valiant knight was later killed in war.
Aug. 16, 2017 for John Hamilton's
Eight-word Challenge - 3 Poetry Contest
Words used: 1.Crystal 2.Gloaming 3.Frosted 4. Forevermore 5. Pathos
6. Valiant 7. Melancholy 8. Unpredictable
My Tears have fallen from the sky. The lightning left its signature upon my mind. The thunderous sound echoed through space. The screams that lashed out left the woodlands sanctuary muddled. Time had passed the droplets had found a new beginning. Unexpected through the cataclysm a new dawn began. Out of the Storm life sprang forth. Sunbeams embraced my lungs. It was warm. The land springs forth with life from my once damned eyes. I can see clearly into the vastness. Lilies hugged the water bed with an empathetic understanding for one another. In harmony, they lit the sky with their deep colored irises. The ground kissed the newly lotion grass as it smoothed it gentle surface. The giants of the land bore their hearts open. They sang with the zesty breeze as the messengers’ carried the melody to new shores.
Form:
I tell the tale of a widow,
aged only twenty-three,
in this I have first-hand knowledge,
she was mother to me.
We lived in a house by the waves,
father lay in an ocean grave,
and many men would vie to ‘save’
a woman so pretty.
So met a young man named Calvin,
who’d seen twenty-six years,
he lifted her form father’s loss,
helped dry away the tears.
She lived in sin, within his arms,
he seemed so helpless to her charms,
it left her neighbors quite alarmed,
and some did speak their fears.
They whispered that young Calvin was
a lout and a drunkard,
seen him carousing in taverns,
and oh, the tales they heard.
He’d have a drink, then want two more,
Bbow all his money on the whores,
the damndest rake along the shore,
these stories did disturb.
But ma chose not to believe them,
tried to pay it no mind,
even though as a sailor he
was gone months at a time.
She clung hard to her point-of-view
that her Calvin was ever-true,
an outlook shared by very few,
they thought the man malign.
Calvin had been gone for four months,
and rumor had just grown,
they said he’d sired bastard kids,
other women he’d known.
It soon became talk of the town,
we kept hearing it all around,
and ma’s depression did abound,
heard her piteous moans.
It finally came to a head
when I had turned just five,
a neighbor came racing to us,
Calvin she had espied!
Her man had not traveled that far,
he was down in a local down,
her reputation, it was marred,
she shut herself inside.
It was only a month later
when he ‘returned’ from work,
and mother, she lashed out at him,
called him ‘liar’ and ‘jerk.’
She told him that he had been seen
drinking with ladies crass and mean,
she declared it an ‘awful dream,’
so massive was her hurt...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.