Walking in the moonlight, on a distant shore.Black magic, black mother let me pain no more.For the time has come for me to be alone.I must be this way for you have hit me with your last stone.I dug a ditch a long ways from here, I planted some lilies there.As I dug a grave for myself out in the middle of nowhere.As I head to the darkness where light has never shown.Tears keep coming and loneliness, heartache, the scars I'll forever have.Will i ever find who I wants was? I must hide my face and you should hide yours.Darkness is among us now.I don't hear a sound.Lord please forgive me as I'm about to sin.l asked you not to throw stones at me.That means you offered me pain.You are a sight for sore eyes.Darkness of evil has opened inside me.Broken bones with all the pain, Nightmares there's not a worse feeling to wake up and not have your memory.Someone else to feed you clean you.Screaming over and over, what the hell has happened to me.All for what? Lord only knows.iv'e always heard sticks and stones may break your bones.But you will never hurt me. We are here, this grave that i dug.Was never for me. It's for you...
A
man who
wanted to
invent things, he
claimed he had made a
car that ran on water!
Said to be bribed and threatened
by Big Oil, he was deemed a fraud
when he refused to let the court test
his creation. Did no one see it work?
This is but one of the mysteries that
surrounds Stanley, who died after he
sipped some juice at a restaurant.
He gripped his throat and said that
he’d been poisoned, but this
was not proved. Why? Was
he gas-lighted?
Or was he
conning
US??
June 8, 2022
for Joe Maverick's Life Death And Aims Of Stanley Meyer Poetry Contest
There are several ways to make you mine.
Just like there are several ways to make the hurt die.
The severity of which I must disclose.
The several ways of which I break bones.
This is not an inspirational poem.
And it probably doesn't "fit in."
This is not about conformity.
It doesn't matter if I win.
I do this for me and only me.
Not for the attention.
So if you are reading this:
Don't like this poem.
These are the days when everything is wrong.
So much fighting and many more gone.
What do we have to say?
What do we do?
Not a f@cking thing.
Unless there's something in it for you.
There are several ways to lead the blind.
Just like there are several ways to lose my g0dd@mn mind.
The severity of times like these.
The several ways of the way I bleed.
Christmas Yule Tide Horn Haiku
what a dearth of mirth
welcome Jesus and His birth
beyond all worth on earth
saw star in the skies
by three men who had been wise
met with much surprise
much to our delight
brought star did show in the night
Jesus brought much light
waited for a while
then saw Jesus with His smile
one day was on trial
on Jesus relied
who on cross was crucified
felt sorry inside
was such a great loss
Jesus dying on the cross
we would turn and toss
we had grieved and grieved
by God His Son was received
are greatly relieved.
Homeless with Those We Miss
we have the homeless
along with the loneliness
died and them will miss
Jim Horn
April is poetry month.
james horn is my name
prepare return is my game
much fortune and fame
were isolated
result of educated
specialists stated
hard to bare the course
make sure laws are all in force
after we endorse
one more round of beer
poetry month is now here
virus disappear
slept on my pillow
did dream of weeping willow
waves that did billow
we were deep in doubt
and should start using takeout
with flu had big bout
Jim Horn
I could have entered them
separately.
Haiku
A season is over
Golden leaves softly fall
The breeze is absent.
Haiku
Bushes have the blooms
Still intact covered in dust
The town waits for storm
Haiku
Indoor plants sag too
Sorrowful for no reason
Longing for freedom
Haiku
Umbrellas await
Know their duty are coming
They have the courage
Your suicide
Wrests the act from the hand
So that fire can envelop the bottle
And skyward
And bright
And living
Technicolour dances in extremes.
We effervesce and burst
We rise up and with a fury
A million or more
We wilt back onto the vine
Waiting to be harvested and
Transformed into feed for machinery
The blocks and the slabs and
The blocs and the Slavs
And the pointed jagged teeth
Of a rusted saw three thousand times the size of the moon
We jigsaw and puzzle and pile up
And bric-a-brac away the inheritance
Of dead men coming into dead men’s fortunes
We store up and cascade
And chisel
At the face of a dam
As a plague of locusts descends
Within the imagery of Uncle Sam
We shoot in succession
And with twenty-eight barrels
We could split the world to pieces
And commit
Several of the greater nations
Turn and shoot and all goes black
As the litter is circulated
In samizdat and under purple cloth.
Received Several Requests
Did receive several requests to write this:
Point may refuse or maybe might miss;
Am bad news bearer;
Trump is holy terror,
And daily own death he does often kiss.
Jim Horn
Haiku
Beautiful horses
But it is the modest mule
That carries our load
Tidy office building
Busy and efficient place
Kept clean by janitors
Our great cities
Without armies of cleaners
Uninhabitable
Galloping filly
Bets are on black beauty
The jenny won
Several days of agony;
Last night...almost doubled up.
Moaning in pain.
Even through pain killers.
Phoned dentist: Appt. at 2.40...
Timed it badly.
Started out; it was raining.
Had to double back and change.
Was almost late. Put on anorak.
Stuffed shoes in rugby shirt;
In bag. Wore cap.
Took cheque book.
Change of trousers.
Mine got drenched.
Changed there.
Young guy thought I was crazy.
I stripped the anorak.
Went in; waited.
The dentist poked around
and touched decay.
It was so painful; I cried out.
He went to work.
He temporarily filled it.
I was exhilarated.
(Based on diary notes made March 2013).
Mountains in the Ocean above which stood
A piercing Sky of blue and Clouds
Remarked upon to honest vessel
By arrant birds aloft on high.
Turn sails to home too far to see
A boat of fish caught by sea breeze
As countrymen pause and drain their Ales
On the earth, on the Ocean; dim-lighted and pale.
A Castle in the Clouds without any owner
No servant, no master and entirely empty
Where none would go but a single guest
In its other realm on the Hawk's winged path.
Stumble from Pub into unwelcomed street.
The black of the Sky and its cold on his cheek.
An angry, strong cry as he heads from this town,
Into Highlands and Castles and lost Ocean sounds.
(Note: accent on the "e" in third stanza's "winged".)
Jealousy is a weak emotion; People misuse the emotion like lotion.
- Loverboi
Silly sally sang so many silly songs,
Sometimes silly sally sang about secret storms,
Suddenly silly sally sang about a sailing ship,
Silly sally’s song saved several slips.
By: Sabina Nicole
Contest
I met a woman from Charlotte, North Carolina
After attending a literary conference in Uruguay
She claimed that she had passports muchas
Born to a British mother now live in Uruguay
Married to man of State Department Americana.
Changing the aircraft at Buenos Aries Airport
She talking, I listening, standing in a queue.
For the check-in I handed over my passport
The inspector inquired of me, looking into
Is she with you, sir? Where is her passport?
I simply looked at him with casual attention
Till day I don’t know which passport she used
Now that we were at the boarding gate in a line
As to why the inspector wanted hers she asked
I replied her because I have Passport Indian.
Wished to offer one more passport, couldn’t tune
But if ever she, by chance, in Charlotte she meets
As I have now settled down in her home town
And our ships destined to have favorable winds,
What I couldn’t say, have a mind to say it soon.
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