Long To tell you the truth Poems
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Loving more to tell you the truth,
You know in your heart what you must do,
Disipline yourself to see,
The intent of your heart, because action proceeds,
Love counteracts fear, it speaks the truth,
Your heart pounds at the sound of what you should do,
It's usually never what you thought, sometimes feelings step aside,
Your heart steps up to plate, fear no longer hides,
It wages war with our feelings, fear keeps in captivity,
It won't come out into the light because in the dark it breeds,
Supressing your heart, adding one fear onto another,
So you will shut your mouth, and your heart altogether,
To make you feel less, to shut out the love,
To make you forget, you are more than enough,
The love you give is never a waste,
Even if some people don't see it that way,
Don't hold back your heart, don't shrink n hide,
God will honor the intent and open your eyes.
My old mate, Dan, has a hole in his roof
It’s really not like him to tell you the truth
He maintains his house so it’s sound as a pound
But I don’t know why he’s nowhere to be found
Dan’s a war hero and part time inventor
He goes nowhere near that new furniture centre
He modifies ordinance for a new purpose
He’s fitted his house out with World War Two surplus
His sofa is seats from a Douglas transporter
That ditched, in the war, in the sea off Gibraltar
His armchair came out of an old war plane too
But that’s not here either, and that’s a big clue
That hole in the roof that shouldn’t be there
And also the fact of the missing armchair
Which once held an airman the war couldn't beat
I’d bet that armchair was an ejector seat
I am naturally friendly, or so I’ve been told
But that feels like bragging, exceedingly bold
A bit embarrassing, I tell you no lie
To tell you the truth, I’m naturally shy
When meeting new people I tend to clam up
So I smile and I nod and sip from my cup
Don’t know how to act or know what to say
I most honestly wish it wasn’t this way
An abundance of confidence I obviously lack
But I quietly listen and try to keep track
Then I’m able to answer, if questions arise,
as long as I don’t have to look in their eyes
It’s hard accept when a compliment’s made
I blush and I mumble on hearing what’s said
Hoping and praying they don’t find me rude
While feeling self conscious it also feels good
I could always go on and tell you some more.
But I won’t, you know, for I don’t want to bore
Well, there you have it, now do you see?
That natural shyness comes naturally to me
DURING MY WORLDLY TRAVELS, I MET ARTHUR ITIS.
TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH HE WASN'T THE BRIGHTEST.
HIS GOAL IN LIFE IS DISTRIBUTING PAIN.
HE LOVES TO ACT UP DURING WINTER AND RAIN,
I WAS ONCE AT A PARTY, HOSTED BY MR. GRIM REAPER.
I WAS BOUNCING AROUND WHEN I SPOTTED A KEEPER.
FASCINATINGLY ATTRACTIVE, WITH A SCIENTIFIC TYPE NAME.
SHE SIMPLY PREFERRED, BEING CALLED MARY JANE.
HER PURPOSE IN LIFE IS TO DRIVE AWAY PAIN,
FROM THOSE PLAGUED WITH ARTHRITIS EVEN MENTALLY INSANE.
HER WORK IS AMAZING, ESPECIALLY HER JELLS.
QUITE THE RELIEF FOR THOSE LIVING IN HELL.
SHE'S THE LIFE OF THE PARTY, WITH A BAD REPUTATION.
IN THE MEDICAL WORLD, SHE'S KNOW ACROSS NATIONS.
SO HERE WE STAND BETWEEN RIGHT AND WRONG.
AND ALL WE WANT IS ARTHRITIS BE GONE.
They say I'm lucky, and maybe they're right,
You'd give me the sun if you knew how to fight.
You carried your wounds with a smile on your face,
And taught me to find a home in hard days.
But love came tangled, stitched with the blame,
Too many comparisons dressed up as shame.
And I learned real young what children can do,
How to make excuses for someone they love too.
Cause I know your story, I know your scars,
I know you gave me more than you had.
But knowing the reason don't soften the bruise,
It just makes it harder to tell you the truth.
And I love you, I do, I do,
God, I'd go through hell with you.
But there's a side of you I quietly hide,
A side I've forgiven a thousand times.
And maybe that's why I can't say you're wrong,
Cause I've been defending you all along.
But if love wasn't mine before I knew,
I wouldn't wish your storms on someone new.
You'd hold me close, then pull me apart,
Leave little cracks in a growing heart.
A slap, a lecture, a hurtful compare,
Then tell me it's love and I'd find it there.
And maybe it was, in the best way you knew,
But love shouldn't hurt just because it loves you.
Still I swallowed the parts that I couldn't refuse,
Cus children don't leave, they just learn what to lose.
So if another child asked me one day,
"Is she a good mother?" What would I say?
Id tell them you're funny, I'd tell them you're kind,
Id tell them your heart's been broken by life.
Id tell them you tried, I'd tell them it's true,
Then quietly pray they never meet you
Not because I hate you,
Not because I don't
Not because I forgot all the good.
But because I know you.
And maybe the saddest thing I've ever known
Is I'd choose you again...
only becus u were already home
'Twas the night before Christmas, and there sat the Grouch,
waiting for Santa and his present filled pouch.
I'm sure that all of you have heard of the Grinch,
but the Grouch is far worse, at least by one inch.
That vile and distasteful sixty-six year old man
had been writing poems which he pitched in a can.
To tell you the truth, I don't think you've met a
man with a more implacable vendetta.
His heart was cold as a hard frozen icicle.
As a kid, Santa never brought him a bicycle.
So, when the fat fella came down through the chute,
the Grouch was there waiting to lodge his dispute.
The grumpy man challenged St. Nick to twelve rounds,
and the two commenced boxing, no holds out of bounds.
The two of them danced, and they bobbed, and they weaved.
If it wasn't true, it could not be believed.
I must say, it was an incredible fight.
There were jabs, upper cuts, a left hook and a right,
but in the twelfth round, to the sound of a crunch,
Santa connected with a strong roundhouse punch.
The Grouch smiled as he looked up from the ground,
and he saw little birds, heard a sweet tweeting sound.
He saw so many things that anyone would like,
and he saw a shining candy-apple red bike.
From that day on, he was happy as a joker.
He even invited Santa Claus to play poker.
I'm happy to say, he's no longer the Grouch,
and the townsfolk, with feeling, say, "he's no slouch."
Sitting here wishing upon a star
Wondering who you are
Do you notice me
I noticed you
It must be love at first sight
Wishing wising wishing
To be next to you
Next
Next
Next to you
I don't think you know
how I feel about you
I think about you morning noon night
You stay on mind
You stay on the mind
Everyday
I'am living a
lie
lie
lie
It hurts inside
on how I want to tell you the truth about how
I feel about you
I feel like I'am going die
I feel like I'am going die
If I can't be with you
If I can't be with you
Sitting here wishing upon a star
Sitting here wishing upon a star
Sitting here wishing upon a star
To be next to you
To be next to you
To be next to you
I swear to tell you the truth
Nothing but the truth
But your heart is so feeble
And your spirit so brittle
A whiff of it will make you syncope
A little tyrant I am glad you are no pope
No Ceaser not the next hope
The people would die on knees
Just because you sneezed
Who carried the wind to make me sick
Its you or you or you it can’t be the breeze
A woman without accountability
A mother killing the son
Mumbi had nine daughters
The fable was prophesy
Its a image so broken
But a reality too open
You cursed me to remain your pup
And nothing more
You just robbed the world
So that you can see me rot
In a cold room
Dying of pneumonia and spiritual clots
You want to be right so bad
That I rather die
Than you see me smile
For a thought that is truly original
And If you are reading this
I really understand the criticism
Just wake up and leave
Grown ass man sitting and *****ing
But you need to freeze in my coffer
Watch your life thaw away and go
While you remain in situ like a statue
Maybe I go lick someones behind
Until they find it amusing and pay me in chains
But ass is not the spice for me
New chains are strange and grim
Then maybe I go dig and dig my grave
But I am tied to smile at visitors
Sit when told to sit
Broken broken broken
Broken until the truth would make me scream
I woke to a tune playing in my head
that was Tim, my mom timed him to wake me.
Tim's a telepathic, implant, module
and till I get up, it won't let me be.
Tim, drop the music, I'm up already
now connect me to my mom... hi, thanks Tim.
Don't bother with breakfast... Tim order some
and then reserve me a spot at the gym.
Hold on mom, dad's trying to talk to Tim
Hey dad...I didn't forget our lunch date.
Did you hear, there's a new upgraded Tim
my birthday’s coming up, it's not too late.
To tell you the truth Tim's been slipping some
if you can't afford it, split it with mom.
(Sonnet)
Mar.8, 2018
Science Fiction - Poetry Contest
Deborah Guenther Beachboard
Alan Allston ate an addictive piece of cake.
Bertie bounced his bouncy ball by the bus stop but his brother caught the bouncy ball before the bus came.
Claire, Clara, Chloe and co built a sculpture of Charlie out of snow.
David danced with Dani in a dance club in Derby.
Eliza's enormous elephant squirted water at an eagle.
Frances frantically searched, quite flushed, for Freddie's friendly frog.
General enquiries? Go Google it!
Henry hated hula hoops and Hungry Hippos.
Ingenious Ignatius invented an intelligence of sorts.
Jackie's Jaguar Jasper liked jumping giant fences.
Kind King Knowles knows what's best for his kingdom.
Larry limped lightly after he had a nasty fall.
Mary played Moana in a school production.
Nobody notices November's rain, not since winter has arrived again.
Oops! Oh no! It's happened all over again!
Pedro, Perdy and Poots played bagpipes in the middle of Boots!
Quality Street for quiet times.
Rita raised an eyebrow when she got the rhyme wrong!
Some slimy slugs saw Sid Sidewinder slithering slowly singing silly songs.
To tell you the truth, Tea's just right for me.
The unhappy unicorn kept dry under her umbrella.
Vera the violet vulture was very hungry.
The winds were whistling a wintry tune.
Xena played her xylophone while Xander was having his x-ray.
Yesterday's Yellow is today's Gold.
Zoe's zebra stared at her as she zealously expressed her views on Zoom.