Raised Poems - Poems about Raised

"The Last Time You Raised Your Hand" This is the last time you raise your hand against me. This skin, this temple, this war-torn body you tried to claim — I take it back. You thought love was something you could twist at the wrist, bend at the knee, snap at the neck of my dreams — but I am unbreaking. I have stitched myself up with the thread...

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Deep in the forest where various monster beast abode The hunter dares himself to enter the dangerous zone To hunt for games that is rich for gains Under the big Iroko tree lies the little animal Having a soft and fluffy coat designed with bright colors A bright orange and white color patterned with black stripes They call it a...

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I was built like the old oak table— steady, bearing the weight of voices heavier than mine. They spoke of storms I didn't start, left me to sweep the broken glass as if my hands weren't small, as if they hadn't splintered already. They stitched a story from my silence, painted me in wildfire shades, called it defense when they...

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Until last Wednesday I never thought I'd been bought up by narcacist, the thought made me distraught But then the memories flooded back in A narcissist raised me, now let me begin I thought of my childhood as safe and happy Never rich but always savvy There's nothing I ever went without Apart from love, I see...

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My body is an ear. Absorbing whispers meant for others' mouths that only close to wait to shove out more sound. In other directions. Towards another mouth. Mouths who vomit sounds for the sake of sound. Mouths that speak without a plan for other mouths. Earless mouths. Blathering on until they forget why they opened. Holes from which echoed flatulence reverberates. Unmeant for...

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Spring Sonnet The microscopic lifeforms in my soil Sense the rising in degrees Celsius. Old Summer’s red wiggler worms now uncoil, While hungry birds look down most odious. Most showers now done, the weeds envelope The surviving herbs, flowers, plus veggies. Like the weeds, slimy molluscs interlope, Quitting the shadows with their progenies. Scooping composted chicken & steer Into my orange Home Depot buckets; Troweling...

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A Daunting Mountain Slavery Raised An injured knee suffers in times of rain. Seasons of counting costs raises mountains of debt. Yet... faith can move a mountain, At the expense of Love... immeasurable. There is forgiveness, Until next time, When the...

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I dance in my mind glass slippers trail behind Twirling pirouettes tea and crepe suzettes...

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We can explain "Real Intelligence",and we can explain "Artificial Intelligence for certain! It is good to "LOVE",so that we can "KEEP HOPE" in our "HEARTS" ,and "NEVER DISPAIR"!"LOVE would "HOPE" where "REASON" will "ALWAYS" despair!!! With "The Renewing of "The Mind","There comes a "Re-Newing of "THE SPIRIT"" to defeaT "The Enemy" for certain!...

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The angel of death kissed my lips each time, and I felt since a child that I was doomed; yet, his touch upon my cheek was sublime, with his heaven aura sweetly perfumed. And I felt since a child that I was doomed, I wondered why did death pause just for me; with his heaven aura sweetly perfumed, on wings rising...

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Growing up in Podunk Missouri, meant that we had the freedom to roam. Up and down rivers and wooded hills, those places that we called home. Picked berries, peaches, plums, and cherries, and at least the ones that didn’t fill our bellies. Mom would turn them into some mighty fine, pies, cookies, canned juices and jellies. Morel mushrooms in the frying pan, could...

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I was raised with love Alot of smiles from everybody around Even now But it was alot of affection Being brought up by majority women Gave me the wrong impression Because while they was giving me hugs And kisses I'm over here enjoying every minute They failed to show me the difference Meaning That this is the...

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A push-button blood alarm scans the receptivity of softly ticking ears. It is the ever-wakening never snoozing internet jungle calling. Fasting birds as large as velociraptors insist on being called parrots, a raucous conversation hardly heard as it filters through 3-D printed flugelhorns. A cell awakes vibrates within an ear socket demanding its early morning diaper change. Little silver bells are clanging, A sub-audial cacophony of eager voices discharging...

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Downright nasty abrasive was she Hostile to friends vitriolic to enemies Raised on the streets she learned their dark ways Focus on your target and set it ablaze Who knew underneath was a little girl crying ...

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The beautiful young woman’s accent was unusual. Was she Romanian? Ukrainian? Geoffrey could not place it, but he enjoyed hearing it. Her soft voice sounded European. Are you from the other side of the world? He asked her. She smiled at him, giving nothing away. Could you give me one more clue? Geoffrey asked. Without hesitation, she threw back her head and...

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