uncle's funeral
crying for all
the wrong reasons
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
Submitted on March 19, 2021 for contest ALL YOURS (MAR 20) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
I'M ALL OUT OF DREAMS
OBEDIENCE TAKES OVER
YOU ARE THE GENERAL
I AM THE SOLDIER
I'M ALL OUT OF PATIENCE
I LOOK THROUGHT THE WINDOW
YOU SET THE BAR DOWN
I'M STUCK IN THIS LIMBO
I'M ALL OUT OF STRENGTH
I'M WEAK AND I'M QUESY
YOU PUSH ON MY CHEST
GRIP TIGHT CAUSE YOUR SQUEEZING
I'M ALL OUT OF TIME
BUT THE CLOCK KEEPS ON TICKING
I'M LOST BUT NOT FOUND
SINCE OF DIRECTION NOT WITH ME
I'M ALL OUT OF MIND
NO LOGIC OR REASON
YOU TOOK MY COMPASSION
I'M COLD HEARTED AND FREEZIN
I'M ALL OUT OF WORDS
TO WRITE ON THIS PAPER
I'M ALL OUT OF THOUGTHS
AND YOU WERE THE TAKER
Written 1-22-19
He was born in the year 1899
A cruel birth, pregnancy poisoning
The birth of the child became the mother's death
The father of the boy was crushed by love
... he hated and blamed the boy
He did not want to know, hear or have anything to do with the child
Timothy grew up with his old grandmother
As a baby he cries both day and night
When he got older he was a confined and sad boy
Drawing was the only thing he liked,
children express themselves through drawing
A cruel world he designed, always in black
No researchers interpreted his drawings at that time
It was cause for concern, he drew death
The personality traits were his own cruel death
Timothy concealed his pain, but for him no alternative solutions
He is already struggling with suicidal thougths
Grandmother died when he was 11 years old, life seemed so scary
Helpless and afraid he jumped into the river
two days after his grandmother's death ... a black night without moonlight
Both of them were buried on the same day and place
The grave is always guarded by a black raven
27.03.2018
Sun :) A-L Andresen :)
Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Image1
5th place in the contest
Where Did That Go
I looked Some Where and it's all gone, the thing that keeps my eyes
My eye is loss and thougths are gone the only thing that keeps me close
How far is it the thing I seek, when behind a demon creeps
I looked Some Where and it's all gone, the thing that keeps my eyes
I had it a few minutes ago I had it in my palms, now theirs holes
A cold ghost flew and took me for a ride
I seen this place is this where you keep the dead
" How awful to think people die , Have I taught you anything"?
Telepathy the thougths of else to see
Might be a good way to improve my brain
Which by the events is pushed off to be.
More than a penny I should give for drain!
When I see people with lost in space sight
I try to figure what is moving there
And simply this be a improvement might
But frequently my mind reaches nowhere.
Not all our thoughts may just in words be told
And without talking are expressed much less.
In vain we try then our dreams to uphold:
Of any else the thoughts we cannot guess.
If there are thoughts, as final after all,
Worth a mere penny even if it’s small!
I was glad to see them, the people I mean
I have become averse to the social scene
These days. The morals are sort of different
I am tired of defending my old argument.
It is not fun talking to people who drone and
Complain as if life was not hard before they
Came. More money, more money is all they can
Understand, and women who think you prey
If you smile, when I smile too at fresh flowers,
And joy when the bush break out in bird songs.
I have reclused myself while the standard lowers
I have exiled myself from superfluous throngs.
This evening was not so, we were like minded
Since thougths are shaped by the era of time
The indiviidual faults long ago left us so blinded
We found each company with each most sublime.
The cloud is set to cry
Thunder rumble
A sunday in RCCG
Drummer boy in spiritual malapropism
Members of choir malaguena(- ing)
Blue, purple and scarlet yarn floating in the temple
A chest-piece in between my ego
As my thoughts grew larger and thinner
I stood in the company's of fools
Upturning sanity for relativity
In the laboratory of my thoughts
I adulterated truth for thoughts
Questioning the audacity of morality for the concept of anything goes
Romancing with secularism and syncretism
In holy matrimony i stood with duplicity
Igniting animistic junks
Dancing round the camp fire of spiritism
I an offspring of paranoiac
Swam with mundane and nude views
In the harmony of my vain thoughts
A lightning electrocute my rear ear
A voice slashed me like sash, saying
' awake brother, the service is over'
awoh awoh
Born in February when snowstorms were heavy and frequent,
and to keep me warm their parental touch was God-sent...
I could see them smile, delighting in my miracolous birth;
finally the one they long waited for to give them joy and worth!
And I as grew up, did they notice the first traits of a rare personality,
or did they ignore those signs of a genius destined to bear obscurity?
Perhaps, they felt no vibes of the child bringing change with his flowing water,
too often they stared at him and didn't ask what was his plan for the future!
What makes one really unique and stand out from the ordinary, swift crowd:
being oneself, embracing creativity, being intuitive and imaginative?
My parents missed that creative mind, making their will so imperative...
but that passion was an unspoken voice which needed to break out and shout!
Art played a strong role in building up and shaping this rare personality,
with intense thougths and vivid images, I created a world so whimsy...
that unreal world many rejected with laughter, never repressing the dream inside;
sometimes, all that I had created seemed so worthless, leading to wounded pride!
IT WAS AN EGYPTIAN DREAM
BUT AFTER 25TH, WE CAN REACH TO IT
THEY ALL ADMIT
EGYPTIAN HEROS WENT TO TAHRIR AND PROTESTED
THEIR THOUGTHS AND FEELING NEVER RESTED
THEY WERE OBDURATE
AND BELIEVED IN THEIR FATE
DEMOCRACY WAS A WORD
AND WAS WANTED ALL OVER THE WORLD
IN THE DARKNESS IT WAS THE LIGHT
ALTHOUGH ITS RAY WAS MEAGER
THEY WERE EXTREMILY EAGER
FOR THEIR RIGHT
THEY FIGHT
BABIES CRIED
PROTESTORS DIED
TO FAIL THE DECTATOR
FOR THE LOVE OF THEIR CREATOR
FOR THE LOVE OF THEIR COUNTRY
IN THE GRAVE , THE PROTESTOR LAYS
"THE HERO" THE WORLD SAYS
MY WORDS ARE THE FUTURE
THEY ARE THE HISTORY
ALL OVER THE COUNTRY
MEMORISED AS HISTORY
IT WAS AN EGYPTIAN DREAM
BUT AFTER 25TH, WE CAN REACH TO IT
THEY ALL ADMIT
dream i did .................dream i did
my needs was not mind too give
you are your own so live
weeping tears was not mind too give
my fears we too have too live
dreams i did.................... dreams i did
my love ..was i not yours too
bleeding heart why should we stay
in the cold , helpless place
were thougths die and fade away
dream i did............dream i did
a bloodly wrists
flows like gold
riches in death
for lifes no more
dream i did............dream i did
What must this be
A hollow shell
confusion and lost
if your the master
whos your boss
if your so rigth
why are you lost
what must this be
you let the razor
bleed
lets not let are
evil thougths
breath
what must this be
Ha you live like me
I try to fly in the sun
but my wings dont work
i try to live in ligth
but blinded in dark
i forget my image
i forget my feelings
if its not me whos will is this
my thougths i wish were mine
my will is never done
i wonder if i ever felt love
my my god whos forsakeing
me or you
my wings dont work
this is oh so crule
The quest for higher energy, higher abilities
Has become too trite
The savages always come by at 3 in the ante meridiem
And they seem to drain anything away that was built up
This shouldn't be a surprise
As the dam was merely composed of hollow thougths
When the calm of the center is needed
The vampires come to play with the dendrites
The hum of the piercing lights at 7-11 drives an insatiable need
To feast on the flesh of corn chips and the uneven axis of contemplation
Ah, the joys of a million subversive self-intentions
And the revelation that everything is sprinkled with the delicious salt of soul sweat
Yes it is easy to love the flowers burgeoning from the bones
Of the inside-out mastadon
Because the casinos will never close
The spectors operating the control panel revel in these morning hours
Shall the dance with the unnecessary electrons begin?
Stretch a dream over the face and walk through this life
Sky
too tense
and furtive;
a storm forming:
clouds...
Trees
stooping,
to reach grass;
loudly cracking:
trunks...
Sea
pounding
the frail boats
that fight wild surfs:
waves...
Gulls
and geese
flee from sky
to earth below:
wings...
Mind
distant
and pensive;
bored by notions:
thougths...
Entered in Brian's Strand " Light My Fire" lanterne contest
Copyright 2009 by Andrew crisci
attach my thougths
signal my intentions
*****
the measure of my glance
cast upon chance
according to fate
****
never stopping
never stopping
sub-atomic
whispers
***
hurting
more
than
before
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