Long Same exact Poems
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What starts off green, then turns yellow and then eventually gets rotten?
Take your pick, it's either bananas or every politician.
Politicians should wear uniforms like NASCAR race drivers
so that we the people can identify their corporate sponsors.
I don't know "right wing extremists" from "left wing extremists"
or anything in between.
All I know is what I've researched, experienced and seen.
Republican or Democrat or Independent candidates all follow the same exact course.
Nobody attains the seat of the presidency without getting bought.
If anyone got elected President who would truly do the right thing,
I guarantee you that they wouldn't see their term through.
They'd either resign or become the victim of an assassin.
I've never had any interest in anything politically.
That all changed with my support for the grieving 9/11 families.
One question begot another question and soon I had many more
and I've found that the more we press our government for answers,
the more we are lied to and ignored.
I realize suddenly I lived this day yesterday
This happened when I saw the clock
7:18 and I wondered a.m. or p.m.?
Just like yesterday
then I saw the dirty knife on the counter
with crusty peanut butter on it.
Not again! I thought
This is a day I have lived three days already.
I know this is day four, and I do not feel like doing it again.
For three days I did the same exact things.
Today I will not watch TV, I will not play word games.
I will not paint or play with my dogs.
I will sit in this chair and pout.
Because exercising and eating healthy is definitely out.
I might want to break my routine
But not that much!
i see with the eyes of my soul,
i love in depth in the same exact way,
we're always fighting ourselves not to look at others in this particular way,
we can't see past mistakes, forgiveness means letting down your guard,
this tiny room we've sheltered inside of us leaves us maimed and scarred,
what if we cleaned out all the baggage, and the resentment and anger
disappeared,
the room wouldn't look tiny and sheltered anymore, the floor is now visibly clear,
we've pushed out the old and made room for the new, and learned a lesson in
the same hand,
the things we didn't let go of are now understood, it was all just a part of god's
plan,
we learn from our hurts but he never garantees we'll ever get hurt again,
but the important process we must get taught through all of this is where it first
began,
to pull from within your spiritual strength, family and friends by u to hold your
hand,
to kiss u and hold u and stay close to your side, and help u to get up when u can't
stand,
i've been through incredible amounts of loss, and the people who were loyal
flocked to my side,
for this is where u find true love in your life, this is where your true friendships lie.
Form:
Torn from your life
Like a weed from a garden,
Not caring of my feelings
Or even asking my pardon.
Mindlessly dislodged
And left to wither and die,
Not even given the chance
To tell you goodbye.
My love no longer worthy,
My caring no longer wanted,
And the pain that I feel
I will forever be haunted.
But I hold tight to my resolve
And hold my head high
As I choke down the tears
And refuse now to cry.
I know in my heart
Even after I’m gone,
My love for you still
Forever lives on.
It lives in the soil
Where my roots still remain,
Tattered and torn
But alive just the same.
So like a weed in a garden
It will grow once again,
In the same exact spot
Where once I had been.
It will grow strong and proud
Replenished and new,
With kindness and caring
To give only to you.
To watch over and protect you
And give you its love,
As I painfully watch you
From the heavens above.
If only I were a flower
Succulent and ornate,
Maybe I would not have had
To suffer this fate.
Perfectly observant,
We share the same exact struggle.
Perfectly normal,
A conversation with all but one subject.
Eyes that refer to the category
Of deep need.
Apologies do no justice.
Unpeeled oranges that sit in wait.
Guilty at first glance, suppressing true desire without a word.
Wanting to unravel- peel away at things kept from view.
Mistaking ears for a heart.
Just what are we observant of,
Have we become profound.
A perception seen but not heard
Are we that oblivious.
Selective, inconsistent.
Following our hearts through unspoken lips.
Soiled in the thought of need.
Was I ever ready to speak,
Needing, urging.-
What is it that you are trying to say,
I feel that this is us.
The priority of a first thought,
Overcoming all else.
Every day, a basket of oranges
In arms reach- woven together
In deep thought.
Beauty is only skin deep.
Spoiled by the nectar of lips
Your son was a lowlife hooligan.
Last year he murdered my son.
When it came to having the ability to show mercy, your son sure did lack it.
He shot my son right between the eyes because of his expensive jacket.
My boy gave him the jacket but he killed him anyway.
When I identified my son's body, your son had to pay.
Your son wanted to prove to his gang members that he was big and bad.
He shot my son in cold blood and returning the favor made me feel glad.
Your son was arrested but a bleeding heart judge let him out on bail.
A few hours later your son became the victim of a 44 Magnum Shell.
I killed him the same exact way that he killed my son, a bullet right between the eyes.
I didn't realize that a man could get so much pleasure by seeing another person die.
It was an eye for an eye, I pulled my gun on him and it felt so good to shoot.
But your son's death isn't good enough for me, I hope he fries in Hell to boot.
(This is a fictional poem)
Picasso sold only one painting to his brother.
I have sold at least ten to my best friends, maybe fifteen.
So can I die happy? Not yet.
Never understood Monet’s consistent drawings of tree after tree
Until I began painting the same face over and over and over
and over and over and over and over and over and over and over
Never getting it “right”.
As soon as I am satisfied with it, I can quit painting. Right?
I snatch up six canvases. Draw them out one by one.
Always starting with the eyes and eyelashes, then the nose.
The same exact face, the same pattern.
Sometimes I give her elf ears. Other times she has a pixie chin.
But the eyes and the nose are always the same.
The exact same. Just like Picasso and Monet
I am stuck until I feel I have gotten her
exactly right.
Then I can
Die
happy….
Some days I feel down
Then I remember the song
My father taught me when I was young
And I sing with a heart so free
Jesus tender shepherd hear me
Bless thy little lamb tonight
Through the darkness be Thou near me
Keep me safe till morning light.
Some days I feel sad
For the pain and sorrows of the world
Then I think that tomorrow
will bring joy and surprises untold.
Some days I feel so upset
By the ill treatment of elderly folks
And then I think that in future days
The elderly could be me.
Some days as I watch a child at play
And witness the joy on his face
I wonder if there was ever a day
elderly folks were in that same exact place
And as I wander through time
I look up at the sky
To see clouds scudding by
Across the bluest skies
And I get a special feeling, a knowing
A feeling of having come home
And I know that even sorrow and pain shall pass
As quickly as clouds scud across the skies.
I needed this so much.
A little alone time.
Designer jeans.
T-shirts printed with out the blue sayings.
A moment to ourselves home alone.
Wasting time just you & I.
Causally stretched across each other on the couch.
Commercials filled with Wal-mart families.
Insurance companies. Lawsuit claims.
Your sugar fills the space between shows.
Your head leaned back on my chest.
Neck twisted in a kiss.
The TV more so watching us.
The wait of working all week for this moment of relaxation.
The anticipation of butterflies, late night texts.
The vintage shows we grew up watching, still our favorite.
I really missed you.
Your shoulder my favorite pillow.
The extended twenty-first question of our 21 Questions.
Sitting here with you.
Soon to fall asleep with you in my arms.
To wake up and do the same exact same thing.
To let you know that I made it home safe
Their blessed hands meet,
And jewels are displayed
No one witnesses their shine;
It is between the two
Acceptance of each other,
They walk side by side
Avoiding the skylines of passerby
Not caring about the outside world
No one really seems to notice
But I do
I saw the couple before
I have always wondered how it feels
To be loved...
I can get so sad
But one thing makes me glad—
The world pays no notice of pathetic me
But at the same time no one seems to notice these two jewels
Or maybe someone is looking from a distance
Watching me
Thinking the same exact thing!
Doubtful, but I can dream
4/14/13