Her eyes tell me all there is to know
Her heart has grown tired and worn
The idea of falling in love again
Plays back memories of being scorn
Not wanting to put her heart on the line
She now keeps it hidden and locked away
Why the same time she prays the god
Is she fine someone to love her someday
Don't be mistaken It's not love she fears
It's the pain when that love will die
She remembers the hurt of heartbreak
And the river of tears she will cry
With all the turmoil she's been through
It has made her heart a fragile thing
What she fears is also the cure she needs
And that's the joy only love can bring
I thought at your fiftieth we would make up,
I saved every drop to buy you a new Ford.
Your Royce is still sweet, but it needs a backup—
Not a Lincoln, a Mustang I could afford.
But you threw the keys back at me in fury,
You let your friends mock me with horrid laughter.
On our disputes, you turned them to our jury—
They reveled, munching on our private matter.
You called me names you'd never used before them,
You left me unanchored in a wave of shame—
An abyss where you left my pleasance's scum,
Then heaped on me a full load of scorn and blame.
Is dating a prettier lady a sin?
Drown me in more shame—it quenches not the flame.
The more you dump me in your emotive bin,
The more she lifts me back into her love-frame.
-
Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 52
Contest Judged: June 14th, 2025 4:11:00 PM
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Placement: Third
Intention scorns inattention
~ as do old age and dementia
Trapped in my space suit
Tied down to the launching pad
Terrorized by the rocket
Paralyzed to the surface
The cold surface of my skin
Basks in the judgmental sun
Strapped in my race boot
A dyed gown around my chest
A hard place and a rock, it
Seems I stand in perturbance
Fervidness of my kin
Tasks my legs to jump the gun
My chest strains as my legs race
My heart aches at my minds race
"When I win I'll pen the pin"
But I'd only lose to win a when
Internal torment. Eternal Dormant.
In turn I'll forfeit to eternal internal scornment
I had just spoken with John!
To meet the bastard I’d sworn,
My planned time 5:00am dawn,
Over his fertile grass lawn
He had had to treat with scorn,
Contented with being a con…
“You listen to me, Hot John!
Yesterday, you know, is gone,
A new day baby now born
And with it the Newest Morn!
In a morn one does not mourn;
Announcer of this: God’s Horn!
Good proof: True Life is not torn
Nor True Life true face outworn…
You’re , then, to face farm’s corn:
The white, The yellow and the fawn,
All its thought pains to be borne…
But then, to ask, are their pains?
Aren’t the growth of corns from rains?
Good luck wishes times ten, John
As you avoid your clique’s Don,”
A rose has so many thistles
As sharp as fractured rock crystals
When my lady fair
Puts one in her hair
I stand well back and just whistles
Come Armageddon, only she will survive,
Crawl through destruction, though limbless, alive.
Civilization now crumbling to dust,
Detritus that slices, so deeply unjust,
treacherous terrain bears the anger and hate
Of society's true nature the dead did create.
And on her arrival no pain does she feel,
Immune to her wounds, for the flesh ones will heal,
But full is her heart of despair without end.
She heaves herself upright her message to send
And yells down the crater to whom she knows not,
"Come on, mother er is that all you've got?"
I'm Worthy, I am a Queen!
I'm Worthy, I am a Queen!
I'm a woman of freedom, I have a strength... That amazes me to believe.... I'm very worthy, he can leave... I'm worthy of my future that I see... I am worthy of life.... with my energy to fight... I'M worthy of a beautiful light... I am so worthy of what I need!... I'M SO MUCH HAPPY... OH MY GOD... I AM SO PLEASED!.... I AM SO WORTHY, GOD HOLDS MY DREAMS.... I am so worhty that I can breathe... I'm in heaven... I'm beneath my wings... My LORD, I'm worthy... I'm so relieved... My faith has been retrieved.... I'm worthy, SO praised.... I am worhty for being raised! I am worhty to say thank you LORD! MY PAIN IS RELEASED... I am worthy for what I have achieved... I am blessed... I'm as worhty as a QUEEN...!! My father, I am worthy that you are our higher supreme..
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The past lingers in hush moment recall
Like overgrown vines matted together.
Then, yet shadows appear from it all.
Nascent sadness, unspoken feeling scorn.
Nascent sadness, unspoken feeling scorn
Then yet shadows appear from it all.
Like overgrown vines matted together.
The past lingers in hush moment recall.
8/16/2020
Contest Name MIRROR MIRROR
Sponsored By John lawless
I fold like a sheet of paper,
I crumble in your embrace
I tremble in your presence
how time can not erase.
You're my sense of being,
the longing that I feel
a hunger deep and seething
of a need that is surreal.
Every ache is painful,
how could you even doubt
without you, it hurts me
inside I scream and shout.
A line of desperation,
a plea upon my lips
rants of a woman mad
I drink you sip by sip.
Will you let me hold you,
calm this ache in me
the hungry raging monster
that wants to be set free?
sorry she exposed her vulnerability
she’s getting the cold shoulder
recognizing it all too well
totally undeserved
it upsets her mostly since
she’s guilty of it herself
on someone in her past
who didn’t deserve it either
and she’s sorry
but won’t make amends
she sucks it up full circle
would rather live with the guilt
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Trump Seen with So Much Scorn
Definately in side, Trump has been thorn,
And by him apart all of America was torn;
With rigor;
Much vigor,
While we still see him with so much scorn.
Jim Horn
Where have all the real men gone
Those bronzed statues of history past
Farrowed, weathered faces of
Strong character an morals
Big helping, protecting hands
Gentle on the child
Feathery on the lady, mild
Where have all the real men gone
None left to teach what’s
Best to future progeny
Left to be corrupted,
By ****, scorn an meth
Where have all the real men gone.
Those old mates of kinship an friends
Fighters of fair an go
Ready to jump to help those in need.
Defenders of under an dog
Where have all the real men gone
Just skeletons now
Even half, men that were
Mouths of talk an nothing more
Except to condemn the under an dog
Kick them in their lodge
Where have all the real men gone
Sadly, nevermore
Authors note
This poem has been censored
East of Eden we still painfully churn
where belief is earliest bloodshed's birth
and every wicked man shall have his turn
to spill his rage upon the wretched earth.
From outer realms there can only come sin
and for fear and hatred of all unknown
we'll slay the unspoken laws from within
and by new laws tear the flesh from the bone.
All good, all righteous, though not all the same
and devious on the wicked man's path
we'll not escape, for the truest voice came
and told that we'll harvest the grapes of wrath.
The soil and the rains and the winds of pain
now have cast upon us the scorn of Cain.
4rh November 2018
able bodied service man off to fight a war battle scorn
4/14/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2018©
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