Long World of hurt Poems
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Written By: D. Collins 4/3/25
We are losing friends and losing them fast.
As far as trust goes, we’re running dead last.
We leave our allies hanging and citizens overseas.
Spend enormous resources focused on deportees.
Don’t get the impression America has your back.
You are “Diss-illusioned” if you believe that.
If you offer nothing to pad pockets of the rich.
You, and your country will likely get dissed.
There’re provocative tariffs and pensions bottoming out.
Everything nosedives when Trump opens his mouth.
We’re in a world of hurt that will only get worse.
After the recession let’s see if America’s First?
Do not try there is no use
You will only badly lose
Running will not do a thing
When I find you it will bring
Only more pain you caused this
When you took a closed up fist
Hitting my friend in the face
There is not a single place
You can hide so watch your back
There are bruises from the smacks
Many times you left on her
You are in a world of hurt
When I finally track you down
You'll disappear and not be found
From the rage that will come out
I'll be like a water spout
Sprinkling violence on you
And when I am finally through
With each shot and angry hit
I may throw another fit
Just to see the sight of you
Turn a lot more black and blue
You will be a punching bag
I will beat until you sag
Because you ran out of air
You can't breath and I don't care
I drank alcohol and now I am fat and laughing inside the dark cave wanting to take all my life back and to be the me I used to be; to be the music I used to sing; to be the sunrise I used to see.
When I reach for the stars and dream of roses above my circle of friends who I've fallen out of just like I've changed you. This is what love really feels like.
Oh my! I wish it were not true.
This is how I feel when I sing but all I need is a kiss!
I had a dream once -- a dream that a bottle of red wine got drunk and woke up.
And came onto my hand and I dreamed I was singing and a beautiful lady in a wig came onto my legs and I dreamed I was dreaming & I dreamed I was falling into a purple slumber; I told my in-laws I want to be my own man. I want the necktie to be the peace of mind I need. I want the dreams to be nice & not get me into a world of hurt.
I just want a kiss!
:: 09.26.2020 ::
"I'm a poet. I know it. Hope I don't blow it"
Do you want to commit what many poets consider a mortal sin?
Do what I just did. Commit an act of plagiarism.
The above first verse isn't mine. It's Mr Zimmerman's,
more otherwise commonly known as Bob Dylan.
I personally don't find plagiarism a mortal sin.
If one plagiarized my work I think I'd thank them,
even if they happened to profit multi billions.
My children could reach thousands or perhaps maybe even millions.
I'd see it as they sharing with the world All My Children.
Some of my children could motivate others to stop smoking or drinking.
or a better approach toward raising and teaching their children.
Some of my children may make otherwise sad people laugh.
My children may cause some who read them to dismiss vile thoughts of wrath.
None of my children encourage plagiarism. It's wrong and everyone knows it.
Spiritual Perspectives would never allow me to to so because I Am A True Poet.
Besides, stealing somebody else's work often leaves both parties in a world of hurt.
I similarly as much with the majority of mine,
are a most noble, honest, and most respectful kind
and I'm proud to say that just like all of they too, I Am A Poet.
***********************************************************************
(Tagged by Carolyn Devonshire and now I'm tagging Simone Segal)
Your assignment Simone is to write a poem ending with I Am A Poet, afterwould you
tag some one else to do the same. C'mon Simone, join the fun. Are ya chicken?
BAR BUK BUK BUK BARRR! - That's supposed to be my chicken sound.
Love has taught me
to look deeply, beneath
the green of the heart’s
tender shoots –
every living soul
draws from a reservoir
of mixed feelings,
a spring of good laced
with evil –
I pray each day
we together strive
to trickle upwards,
in the ways of God….
Love has taught me,
that the heart, though
dedicated ruler of
body and its residing spirit
is often adversely
sway-able,
leading to autonomy
in name alone...
necessitating Christ
Love, in humanity,
as Father’s fail-safe and
Redeemer –
evil allowed by the
grace of God – not for
embracing its presence,
but for the power of
contrast –
not for what it is
but for what we learn
it can never be –
and the peace
it can never give us...
also taught me, that love
is exceedingly larger than
the lover – Therefore, not
any should think of
being defeated
for a world of hurt –
dear fondness may perish
or decline, leaving not a
measurable trace – yet, remains
a habitat unscathed, where fullness
of heart fills every vacated space –
it is a blessing I have realized;
one I have heard, well-intention
ministers preach – but only Divine
Love’s personal relationship can
ever indelibly teach –
So, as love was given me freely –
bargaining not with God, the source –
I will clearly keep love free
from earth’s surface, man’s chosen
Terrestrial-course – Love now the large
of me – outgrown my Novice Small –
Priceless Love keeping me, strong in
stance -- rock-solid – standing tall!
'twas in a room in Blandford, on a bright spring day
When a voice within my head a whispering, whispering to my dismay
For the voice grew from a whisper , and it would not go away
The voice was dry and eerie, Like demons from the days of yore
So I was emboldened and challenged, what want est from me thou this day
And the voice replied sadistically, I'm here to take you away
Now you have read of the raven, from the pen of Edgar Allen Poe
And i'm a relative of the raven, and our lord wants you to know
That poets like you, increase the spirit of mere mortal men
So i'm here to maybe frighten, even more to stop you writing
And to even stop thee from creating hero's, like the poets from days of yore
If to stop thee I must kill thee, then I am willing for its a dead I have accomplished before
As the evil voice was cackling, my mind aghast was flapping
Wondering if today would be my last, and if I was bound for Hades shore
Then a voice so soft and tender, cried out spirit I demand your surrender
And I looked and saw a hero, straight from Thermopalies blood red shore
Stood with shining sword and shield, it was a warrior from Spartan lore
and the voice in my head quietened, and I knew I was safe for sure
Safety is but an illusion, in a world of hurt and pain
Sometimes the only victory, is for the sun to oust the rain
But 'im aware deep in my heart of hearts, that the rain will come again
So I must be like the sun, bold unshackled and free
So that when the rain returns I may be unwavering, and burn it away
And maybe ill be free for life eternal, like bold Homer in Dauntes tale of yore
Rising from the ashes,
body smelling like smoke,
he stands there with shackles....
in his hands....
torn up shirt.
Freed from a broken world of hurt....
He finally stood up,
and said no more....
He found his voice and he spoke....
scars all over him,
he had been through a storm,
and almost lost his mind,
but he pressed on, moving forward,
leaving the dreaded burden behind.
At first, he was blind....
thinking it was all love,
thinking it was a gift,
sent from above....
but it wasn't....
It was a darkened curse,
and the longer he tried fighting,
the more he grew worse.
So, he finally broke free,
free of the pain,
free of the strain,
He broke free from deprivation...
Emotional decimation....
He broke free....
from criticism,
and self helplessness,
he broke free....
from a black and white
world of nothingness.
He was now a free man....
He removed the shackles....
from his feet....
no longer lost in self-defeat....
He had finally broken free....
and was able to move on,
and be happy once more.
Cliche Heaven
Be it as it may I'll try my hand at some clichés
and address the elephant in the room soon when pigs fly.
It’s a win- win situation, put your game face on, work the crowd
as we wrap our heads around comparing apples to orange.
We are all data driven, with an ace in the hole, stick a sock in it
while stepping up to the plate and peeling back the onion
and easily hit it out of the ballpark with a world of hurt.
Be my team player, run with this, my agent of change
but don’t throw me under the bus as you think outside the box.
We can touch base later seeing where the rubber meets the road
and put boots on the ground, a perfect storm, deal with it.
Here’s my two cents, if it works I'll go off the beaten path
driving route 66 on the road not taken when it’s up for grabs,
and taking a walk in the sun, learning the new math.
That said, don’t put me out to pasture, wait for it,
there’s no sign of my slowing down, its going viral.
These are the signs of the times, take the bull by its horns,
It’s a brave new tomorrow and all bets are off.
Don’t force my hand to be up close and personal
I’m a rebel without a cause and to die for.
Don’t get bent out of shape raising the bar in the winds of change
There’s something for everyone, just another babe in the woods.
Stay tuned, like, duh, as a matter of fact, at the end of the day,
it’s a last ditch effort as you live and learn the luck of the draw.
Pay it forward, that’s the ticket, give and take, get a wake up call,
same song and dance, say what you will, you’re as sharp as a tack.
It’s all smoke and mirrors, just splitting hairs to reinvent the wheel
and walk the red carpet for a quick buck to pay as you go
Heaven help us,
I believe there's an app for that.
Do not try there is no use
You will only badly lose
Running will not do a thing
When I find you it will bring
Only more pain you caused this
When you took a closed up fist
Hitting my friend in the face
There is not a single place
You can hide so watch your back
There are bruises from the smacks
Many times you left on her
You are in a world of hurt
When I finally track you down
You'll disappear and not be found
From the rage that will come out
I'll be like a water spout
Sprinkling violence on you
And when I am finally through
With each shot and angry hit
I may throw another fit
Just to see the sight of you
Turn a lot more black and blue
You will be a punching bag
I will beat until you sag
Because you ran out of air
You can't breath and I don't care