“Even the worst death I can imagine feels kinder than what men might do to me.”
I want to die —
drenched in blood,
rotting yet… dressed,
devoured in the jungle
because flesh is just flesh.
I want to die —
by suicide or by murder,
by ghost or by thunder,
by knife
or a blade’s blunder.
I want to die.
Yet I fear
a death that begins with hands,
with being forced,
with skin branded by bruise and rape.
I want to die —
but I fear screams for release,
a mouth stuffed with cloth,
a body stripped of its right to say no.
I might chase death —
crash my car,
taste rat’s poison —
yet I fear
the howls, the stares,
the cruelty of a predator in a man.
I want to see the world
after I am gone,
but I fear its disgust,
its questions
over my ruined corpse.
I want to die —
so people will finally cry for me,
but I fear my parents
bowing in shame to obscene pleas.
I want to die —
but I fear
dying simply for being a girl.
I want to love being dead as a girl,
yet I fear
being dead with remorse
for ever being a girl.
I recall the wise words by Aesop, spoken,
and wonder, " Is our collective conscious broken?"
A hare can assuredly outpace
a tortoise in any fair race.
To say otherwise, I suggest, is inane.
I conclude, therefore, Aesop was insane.
Today is Veterans Day
or has America forgotten
once again
Neither despise any man
nor detest anything, even in the sand
For every man has his moment in the sun
everything a purpose in the long run …
Once I thought – but not a cockroach
execrable bug beyond reproach
Yet I've learned from neuroscience podcasters
You can Ai-wire ‘em to rescue victims of disasters
not even
(as in not even nothing)
appears as nothing~
nothing
appearing as the
dance~
apparently there
are appearances
everywhere~
To my children and grandchildren,
Ask God to help you forgive.
When you experience hate or hurt any day.
Human pride hates to admit,
That we are a "Fleshy Mess!"
Watch the news there's nothing to guess.
We are made to be like our Creator,
Designed for caring and love.
That's why we must cast our eyes above.
Countless times I've been hurt and betrayed,
And I done that to others too.
Guilt, anger and shame, all feel the same,
That's the conscience God put in me and you.
God's children pointing fingers, saying the other is bad,
Claiming we're the one hurt or does good.
But God knows all are corrupt from Adam's fall,
And we'll never do right as we should.
Forgiveness is the key, to set the soul free,
Let guilt bring drop you to knee's where you belong.
Simply confess. "Lord, we're all part of this mess,
Please forgive me for my part in doing wrong!"
I'm not even a poet, just a petty rhymer.
When starting a new verse, first thing I do is grab a timer.
And if writing the new verse takes more than five minutes flat,
I say, "Okay, that's about enough of that!"
And then I go back to reading my "How to enjoy your retirement" primer.
Grab some cheese, some crackers, and some wine;
then, sit back and read this rhyming verse of mine.
And if, as you quaff,
you're never inclined to laugh?
Let's just say, it's because I'm an old punster in decline.
From cover to cover I set the end from the beginning
Knowing that this love was never about winning!
Adversity moves on the edge of time
No love should be free of the bane of darkness
‘A love that cannot be tested cannot be trusted'
As the truth penetrates my heart
I bleed with the presence of another
Built on Honesty I am purged with agony
I now concede with the element birthed for history
In the web of comfort
The luxury of disorder is also present
A sea of sin and a sky of deceit
Cannot stop the flow and grand value of love!
The bond of love
Remains fortified in the cloud of injustice
Although I gain in vain, a piece of her is still with me!
Ironically, she does not even know that a piece of her is still with me!
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
I spy the usual overly animated party goers
Their finery makes me suddenly remember
I back away from the keyhole so others can enter
my heart leaps with happiness as I turn away
hoping the boss will not catch me before I reach the street
office Christmas parties are the worst kind of torture
"There is no God," says the fool in his heart:
Dreadful, depraved, nowise good, even part.
The LORD looks down on the children of man,
sees if they seek him, if they understand.
Corrupt, all have turned aside, everyone
there is none who does good, not even one.
Of Him, no knowledge, not even a shred.
They eat up His people as they eat bread,
snubbing their peril, blind to the terror;
God's with the righteous, not those in error.
O man, you who shame the plans of the poor,
do you not perceive? The LORD will restore.
When, LORD, salvation? When will it be had?
Let Jacob rejoice, Israel be glad!
----------
(from Psalm 14)
It is like she does not look into the mirror
To consider her own reflection
Like she does not look into the water
To consider her own reflection
She has the ability of greatness
Yet she keeps looking down on herself
Thinking she cannot do it
Actually, she does not even know her
She don't know her true self
She keeps looking down at her shadow
All she sees is darkness
She can't look at the mirror to see some sparks
She has the powerhouse of warrior
The strength, flexibility, agility and intelligence
Yet her mind locked to uncertainty
She does not even know her
She can be anything she wanted
She can be a great dancer she wanted
Yet her mind locked to uncertainty
She does not even know her
You're always there,
You've always cared,
And now you're putting me into a big scare
To make me change my life.
Always answering most of my prayer.
In the beginning
You put me together in layers.
Now I have to take care
Of this place You've placed my soul in.
For my own sake, Yours,
and for the judging thoughts in others,
I need to lose all this
In order to look and feel better.
But now, I am fearfully shivering,
Hopelessly believing nothing will change,
Not even trying...
NYC, be very, ashamed!
One dead officer buried?
6th Avenue showed it’s honors!
The next day in gratitude,
You go out and destroy store shop owners?
No wonder death walks your streets.
Helpless women in smelly subways!
are beaten or their deaths do meet.
Children are killed or in faces shot?
Yes, your stinking mandates, cause
death a lot.
Hidden behind idiotic masks.
You adore them, admit it.
But on a dead policeman, you’d spit, in
a New York Minute?
1/31/2022
And a salute to NYC’s finest. And all, in cities across the USA who lose their lives...that we live! THANK YOU. Hardly enough?
Just as importantly, my legs have turned to mush.
I might notify an emergency before the crash.
I told my wife I was upset; she said, "You become old."
You're acting alike a usual mother with a cold.
Written: November 16, 2021
YOUR FUNNIEST COUPLET EVER Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: L MILTON HANKINS
I got bucked off a mule, a horse, an antelope and a kangaroo.
I was so irritated I called my friends and gave them heck.
I am sure some of them said to themselves “she’s a pain in the neck”.
I did not care, for frankly, I did not know what else to do.
My stepmother yelled for me to hang up and get a life.
She never did like me as much as she likes my sister Sue.
I did not care; even she no longer makes me blue.
I still wonder why Daddy married her; was there no other wife?
I baked her a pie with nails, wallpaper paste and Elmer’s glue.,
But did she appreciate it? No, she did not even taste it!
I did what any thirteen-year-old girl would do; I had a fit!
And my Daddy ate it all up. He asked for seconds too!
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