"Stay with me."
And allow me peace.
No fighting for fame.
No focus for fortune.
Keep me yours, and I will "be".
Lines and stanzas.
Stories and books.
"These are our verses contributed."
Secrets. Release.
Escape and admire.
This is the portrait of us.
Finding meaning in each other.
Hearts and words,
my oldest friend.
Bonded by letters,
Sealed by blood and breath.
And together...
"We conquer death."
It has been too long since my last rhyme
And how I missed the soup
In which each taste portrays the time
Of every cry,yell,laugh and whoop
Hey there fella
Get me under that
Umberella before it rains them dogs
And cats
Again? Foal thing!
I promise I wont leave you alone again
Like the last time you cringed
When I slowly let that rusty door open
Let me weep weep weep
While you rhyme rhyme rhyme
Oh ,how rich would I be
If I heard that with every dime!
The muse has disappeared
My eyes are heavy with tears
Writing seems to have vanished away
It has left me so I deeply fear
Stress has entered my humble home
It has left me feeling robbed and alone
Will the quiet and peace come back?
Or will my spirit just be racked...
I need the Great Spirit to guide me
Show me the way to better see
Relieve this pressure upon my being
As I fall down upon my old worn knees
I need to leave worldly problems
Worship in spirit and in truth
Oh! Holy Spirit surround me
Grant me the feeling of love's proof
Thanks for your presence
Thanks for the feeling of peace
Oh! Holy Spirit your tent has covered
The feelings now are relief....
Somebody stepped on me once
and I was angry enough to swear.
The hardest game comes into play,
kill them with kindness or fight back.
Soon after I came across words that
forever changed my attitude toward
human confrontation:
"Treat me good and I'll treat you better, treat
me bad and I'll treat you worse"-Freedom, Credos from the Road
Nobody took advantage of my overly giving nature since.
For Miranda Lambert’s “Inspired” contest
By Carolyn Devonshire
I wanted to write for this contest;
But my muse was staging a protest.
“Take me to the sea,” it pled,
“In this house, I languish, dead;
Put me in touch with nature, a forest.”
“Don’t stare at a screen, confined by walls;
Locked inside, my inspiration falls.
Surely there’s a babbling brook
Or a valley’s overlook.
Give me something to work with,” muse calls.
“If you fail to respond, I’ll attack
As you’re sleeping in a room black.
Thoughts you will never recall
Cannot upon your page fall;
Without me you’re nothing but a hack!”
(by Kristen Bruni For Inspired Contest)
I never choose a place to write
when settling in a new home.
I let the space talk to me
and slowly reel me it's zone.
I find it best to type it first
as my writing can get messy.
Backspacing is much easier
less casual and more dressy.
My sacred place to release my words
is usually on my table.
Where your supposed to eat
yet allows me to enable.
My brain to focus on the beauty
that blooms as the poetry comes to life.
Creating stories and passion
mixed in with hardship and strife.
My space is always snug
as to embrace my creations.
Cozy and peaceful
propelling through durations.
Candles lit illuminate my soul
even if it's light.
The tiny flame reminds me of
poems that will ignite.
My purpose is always
to make another smile.
A short little story
instead of a novel with long miles.
(12/06/2011)
What if I’m the one who cheats
What if you’re the hurt hart
Will our love be departed wish
Or you’ll give me chance for another start
What if you’re the one who love me so
Will I ask you to go
Will you beg me to stay
Or you’ll be the one for away
What if you love me more
Instead of lusted by her
So what am I here for?
You ripped me to the core
Now I’ll leave for sure
We’re not for each other
My love is too pure
For you to ignore
*Being featured on July 13, 2011
Never thought I would adorn prison stripe
of black and white without fashion or flare.
News coverage was an exaggerated hype
that could give me a lifetime to wear.
I proclaim that I am blameless and innocent
with no record of violence anywhere.
My heart is heavy with sorrow for this gent
whose loving soul I did willfully snare.
I didn’t know his heart was weak and frail
from loss of his aged dying wife.
I plead don’t incarcerate me to lonely jail
for the rest of my young passionate life.
I have given my all, consoling lonely men
who have lost a loved one present or past.
Do not belong in jail, haven’t committed a sin
please reconsider your honor, I asked.
The old callous judge scowl faced with denial
sentenced me to life of community service.
Since the old gent died with a smile,
jail was not my rightful justice….
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
Tenth Place Winner ~ "A poem that has never been entered in any contest” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Poet Destroyer
March 24, 2013
Without anytime
I will get you
Just arrange your words
And say you love me too
Could you give me some love
For just a moment
Cos there's none reason
To make me different
There's no day without you
There's no word that I can say too
Just please forgive me, oh baby, I do
I really miss you cos my love so true
-1998-
It stimulated me like a sublime tea,
brewed from a transcendent plant.
I felt renewed, suddenly invigorated.
My weary heart was addressed.
You brought me back to what all men seek
when love equals warm milk upon the babies cheek.
Like whistling an unfamiliar tune,
in a dark cavern, I searched for equilibrium.
Your verse found way into a deep chasm
of my accepting mind.
You found your way inside
and I gratefully obliged.
With honest clarity, you lifted the veil.
Revealing your true, radiant self.
All pretense had melted.
I could not blind my eyes to your words,
as I saw for the first time,
beauty and truth combine.
VERB ME
WORDS:
fill me like a burst balloon
hit me like a speeding train
burn me like a solar flare
cut me like a surgeons blade
drown me like a bag of cats
twist me like a hated love
hang me like an empty frame
use me like a broken puppet
bite me like a rabid dog
sink me like a capsized ship
shock me like down power lines
**** me like a two-bit whore
choke me like i'm being lynched
backstab like a guilty friend
shoot me like a ***** flick
melt me like a flaming spoon
love me like an enemy
drop me like an atom bomb
eat me like malignant cancer
waste me like a bright future
There’s little market for the words I write,
but I will compose a poem tonight,
and then I’ll circulate it just for spite,
off’ring for sale the first serial right.
Assuming my text’s not too erudite,
and the language won’t offend or affright
either a six-year-old or troglodyte
and my delivery’s polished and tight,
for a penny a line, you know I might
find an editor with enough foresight
to foster an unpublished neophyte
and grant me success almost overnight.
Although this rate of payment may seem slight,
its acceptance will fill me with delight.
For years I’ve tried so very hard
To try to emulate a Bard
Though I sit up half the night
and struggle as I try to write
An Ode a Sonnet, Prose or Verse
They all it seems turn out far worse
than what was running through my head
Perhaps I should have gone to bed
My inner thoughts, my scribbled treasure
Could perhaps give someone pleasure
Very much I doubted it
For none contained a shaft of wit
My poorly expressed point of view
Some how just doesn’t quite come through
Then someone said "Don’t give up yet
why don’t you post them on the Net"?
Eureka!! I am much relieved
To find that some are well received
Such encouragement I find
Has given me much peace of mind
Now at last I understand
What makes me sit with pen in hand
to scribble down my thoughts and views
To hope that others they’ll amuse.
So far so good !!!!!!!!!!!
To pen by light of darkness
With only the moonlight to guide me
Wondering... just wondering
Who I am inside
I know I am me
But who would me be
A writer for writing
Passion for which
Is never relenting
Engaging delights
Living within imagination
True to form, I am me
A writer for writing
Writing to please
Miss me if you can
but it looks like you never have
this is me just being me
but I do understand the reasoning
It would be different
if I actually felt like we were friends
maybe it was my attitude
that kept you distant
but that's not how it started
I got even more bitter over the years
I found a place I can call my own
I just hope it doesn't end up like this
Then I'll know I'm a virus
A few months away and hidden in cover
I'll see how my greetings are
but for now I sit here writing and praying
just trying to survive
where's the delete button?
oh wait y'all already found it
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