The smile was on, the grades were good,
I ate my dinner like I should.
No angry outbursts, no slammed door,
Just quiet days and nothing more.
Inside, a storm began to brew,
A tangled mess, they never knew.
Each day a weight, a heavy stone,
I carried it almost alone.
They saw the surface, calm and bright,
Not shadows growing in the night.
They thought I blossomed, strong and free,
While branches broke inside of me.
And then the fall, a sudden crash,
A whispered plea, a silent lash.
Too late, they saw the wounded soul,
The story I could not make whole.
I came with light cupped in my hands,
not stolen—no—
but kindled slow through nights
sun set the guards had watched.
And those who knew my childhood name
stood in the doorway,
arms folded with the memory
of who I used to be.
Is this now the man, they whispered,
of a past.
Who stumbled over simple things?
Who are we to call him what he is today —
quoting text
when we recall his yesterdays?
So truth knocked gently—
not with thunder,
not with flame—
but like a man returning home
with something fragile in my chest.
And they did not open up nor did they set me free.
For honor is a distant bird—
it nests in foreign trees,
it sings for listening strangers,
it startles at familiar hands.
And I, unwelcomed in their place
that taught his voice its sound,
turned not bitter—only quiet—
and carried what was given me
to those who had no memory
to stand against belief.
There is a sorrow in it—
but also a kind of freedom:
I stood measured
by those who remembered my beginning,
and by those who can see what I have now become.
It was supposed to be us
Happy and carefree,
Doing our own thing,
But you chose her,
You left me for her,
My heart in your pocket,
Bleeding as you walk off with her,
A empty hole now replacing my heart
It was supposed to be us.
-E.B
Everyone always says to reach out for help
It there is no reaction unless you yelp
They ignore talking and wait for action
If your talking and walking it’s dissatisfaction
They want to see real harm done
To yourself or others, for them it’s fun
They make you feel stupid
Want to shut you up and make you muted
They have no care or compassion
But want to dictate and ration
They decide what you get
Get high on authority and demand respect
And expect the vulnerable ones to be grateful
For the pittance received not hateful
They lie and make you feel crazy
Hope that your memory is hazy
The ones paid to help utterly refuse
Don’t act with passion and care but abuse
Tiredness and overworked is no excuse
For those to be so nasty and obtuse
They take advantage of those with no voice
Only in your misery do they rejoice
This is the reality of public services
They provide everyone with a disservice
they always start the same way—
a handshake, a smile,
some cheap wine poured into a crystal glass,
the crowd clapping like trained seals.
then he starts talking about the people,
and how he’ll lead them,
how he’s their man.
but give it a few months—
the limo rides get longer,
the mirror talks back louder,
and suddenly he thinks
he’s got God on the payroll.
he’s supposed to be a figurehead,
just a cardboard cutout for the ceremony,
a name for the checks,
a face for the crowd—
but he starts believing the statues are for him.
you see it every time:
power’s a slow poison,
sweet at first,
then it burns the throat,
rots the soul,
and turns a man’s eyes into mirrors
that reflect only himself.
the rest of us—
we keep paying the bill,
keep clapping,
keep bowing,
pretending he’s not
just another double bigmac
From McDonald's on the corner
who thinks that you should pay his tab.
Red eyes might grow...
What pure mind don't show.
White eyes might cook,
What dirty mind can't hook.
Clean hands could build of fold...
What plan A can barely withhold,
Filthy hands might weigh of cheers,
What plan B does rarely adheres.
Crazy heart might run bloody metre...
While calm vein don't shy as repeater.
Lovely heart could walk lonely garden,
While lousy vein can't for once be pardon.
A supposed tough date;
Can't be of bargaining bait,
To beat daring procedure...
When love isn't for adventure.
We pray to the Lord above
Please save that special love
Love that I never knew
Until the day I met you
Best friends is how it would all start
Before long you had my heart
There was nothing anyone could do
That would get me away from you
It was always you and me until the very end
That's loyalty not something to pretend
For the first time in years I am alone
Sitting in our empty home
Wondering what next I will do
Never imagined life without you
I know I am supposed to be strong
And keep this life going on
Now I just hang my head and cry
Never wanting to say Good Bye!!!
An Uncle Charlie original.
Raise me up and carry me home
There is no longer a reason to be alone
See me there with my head held high
Coppers aren’t supposed to cry
Those are the things I remember true
Stamped forever forming part of what I do
Bury it down or sliced out and thrown by
Coppers aren’t supposed to cry.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Elevator moves sideways
The pickles are dry
The butter is hard
The cornbread has too much sugar
And now it’s a cake
Big plans now have failed
all I've done is sleep and drool
where's the positive
So they've upped my medication
From 10 mg to 20 mg
It's the stuff that's supposed to make... mm... mel... low
I almos... uh... almo... almost nodded... offfff!
Don't think it's strong enough yet... thhh...ough!
Hopefully I'll soon start writing about fairies and pretty flowers
Instead of demons and evil monsters
Some of my best friends are fairies
Hang on... the ones with wings like Tinker Bell
We go skipping through the meadow with gay abandon
Now there you go misunderstanding me again
Well, getting back to my medication
Sometimes it makes me so mellow
I tend to try to stuff my pea soup in my ear hole
Not a good idea... especially in a restaurant
Mothers grab their wee kiddies
Cover their eyes while quickly moving to a different table
I mean no harm... I love everybody
In the whole great big entire world
f i am supposed to love you
If i am to love you for the little things
I cannot seem to make you see me the same
I wanted what never existed
Though i know its okay
Im left with what i wish you-…we couldve been
Its funny
I would've never liked you with my friends
Or i just never knew
I never tried with you
If you could
If you would
If i would
If i can….
You never liked me
Never, for me
Nothing i couldve done wouldve made u understand.
I loved what i made up of you.
I loved what you couldve done for me
I never accepted you for what you were
I hate being the vindictive one but sometimes i feel
I could be
Christians aren't supposed to get revenge, they're supposed to forgive.
And Christians are supposed to do that for all of the days that they live.
If you do a Christian wrong, he or she isn't supposed to get back at you.
A true Christian will know that getting revenge is the wrong thing to do.
God doesn't want people to get revenge, he wants us to forgive others.
And God wants people to love one another.
You don't have
what I need
you r too broken
for me
you don't listen
you don't see
you are not even half
of who you are supposed to be.
Jessica
He often thought to himself
that he has been too quickly assembled
that he should have taken more time
for the busy hands of his constructing mind
to fill-in the flaws, smooth-out the cracks,
properly tightened the loosely screwed together
parts of his nature.
He knew he was mind-made; everything is.
Mind is the worker; body, persona, and the world,
all that his perception allowed, were just the works of his mind.
However, it was all so sudden, the impulse to build
an acceptable, semi-functional being was too strong,
in the end it was a rushed job.
Still he had time yet for a do-over.
The mind that had put together all this ‘him’
could paint over, spackle and tighten up
much of the more obvious weakness’s.
He will need to throw away the handbook
he had made to explain himself away,
stop trying so hard to market himself
to other hastily formed beings.
That he need not mend or stitch anymore
just accept that what the mind had made
was only the skin of thought, its superficial workings
and what he was in truth, was always this unadulterated
pre-created and perfectly packaged
God-Send of the Universe.
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