This should not be hard.
Anticipate me, for I am open.
I have hidden nothing, and am a creature of habit, predictable.
There is nothing too difficult to discover about this soul.
Nothing sequestered away from any prying mind.
Speak to me gentle.
Everyone surrounding me talks in a decibel that I associate with my head cradled between my palms.
The pressure attempts to mash every invasive thought, inevitably they fail.
Melt into my mind.
I've spent all these many years explaining myself.
Even with these oh so fragile words at my mercy I cannot make you hold them truly.
I slice into myself when you fracture them apart, rearranging what was intended.
Be delicate with my heart.
She has endured far too much, somehow persisting in what some may consider to be an inhospitable environment.
A fragile broken thing, untrusting of every encounter because- what if it happens again?
What if it's worse?
Love me softly.
I long to be held in tender hands, that just brush against my skin.
Searching for the lost pieces of themselves in me.
It is a kindness I have never known.
Perhaps I am undeserving.
Maybe it's harder than it sounds...
I want to tell you I'm sorry,
I asked God for direction.
We are the same you and I,
Our summer meeting was a hazardous timing.
No reason it can't be reversed to begin,
At the beginning again, it's almost the end.
So cruel we have suffered and blamed each other,
It's a pity that doesn't need a party just a chance to forgive one another.
In closing I will say,
We were trying to put our heads together,
To bring justice for another.
We were untrusting of life itself,
We didn't trust anyone, with good reason.
I made mistakes, so did you, we are human and it just wasn't our season.
Amen.
welcome myself
Self created madness
The reality of my life
Stuck on repeat
Challenges of a twisted mind
Overthinking the chaos surrounding me
How do I resolve the problem
So I can feel better day after day
Driven by loud shame
Living in guilt mixed beliefs
Stuck repeatedly
This challenging seat
Increasing mind begging
Please help me
Disturbed anger
Narcissistic self doubt
Furious rage
Unbalanced brain
Masked feelings
With a untrusting face
Gazing into my soul
Eyes wide open
Yearning the grave
Drowning in an ocean
With out absorbing my life
Reliving these days
Self defeat
Using self will
Resistance of God
Reaching out & turning away
My mind is made up
My bed is made
Unstable thoughts
Disconnected
Faith lost at sea
My will not of God
Existing only for me
Endlessly filled selfishly
Welcome to my shame
God help me
Written by
Jacob Lange 9/18/2025
looking
worse for wear
at the mercy
of winter's harsh elements.
a stray dog,
sad of eyes,
clothed in all black
to match her mood.
emaciated and weather-beaten;
a labrador retriever
with her tail
tucked behind her hind legs
softly whimpering
shivering.
oh, you poor thing...
how far is your home?
scared
untrusting
of strangers;
perennially running
from rescue.
with a looped leash,
I approach, again....
she takes a step back
I come closer...closer....closer...
she turns
and sprints away.
I won't give up,
I'll do my best...
to help bring you in...
from the cold.
Some People May Think
A Lie Is Not Truth
What Does It Mean
For Him, Me, or You?
A Lie Is Much More
Then Words from a Mouth
Deep Down to the Core
Filling You with Doubt
A Lie is Being Betrayed
Cut Down in Size
Someone to Blame
Unacceptable Life
A Lie is Broken Trust
Very Hard to Repair
You Question, They Cuss
Doesn't Really Seem Fair
A Lie is the End of
What You Once Knew
Many of the Next Days
Saying Sorry Without Truth
A Lie is a Fresh Start of
of How Untrusting Can Be
You Are Drifting Apart
Still Trying, It Seems
A Lie is Destruction
of Another's Sane Mind
Without Any Repercussions
Just Spiraling Thru Life
A Lie Can Be Death
For Those Whom May Feel
That it Would Only be Best
Words Never Heal
He kissed me, despite how I tend to be so disgusting.
He embraced me, despite how I am so undeserving.
He said to me he loves me, despite how I am so untrusting.
Untrusting
Miracle Man
8-27-2023
A beautiful face or well known name,
will endorse a product using their fame.
Many assume that means it’s better made,
but the raw truth is they’re getting paid.
Most of the merchandise they’ve never tried,
and to the consumer they’ve flat out lied.
While they’re getting richer others get by,
but the spiel goes on, and it’s buy, buy, buy.
“There’s a sucker born every minute”
P.T.Barnum
Her mother gave her the swit name beloved
She is dark and pretty with a smile that
Leaves many smitten fantasizing in secrecy
She has a face I can read and am prying
Into her thoughts with a subtlety yet I know
She can percieve my psychic drone of thots
I try to drown her fay mind with emotive vibes
She is talented I listen to her sweet lilting voice
She writes and hopes to make it in the arts
I nudge her on.. listen to you're heart..
Let us get a glimpse of you're beautiful soul
She is wary previous disappointments and pain
Have made her untrusting of my kind...
I aim to nurture the best in her and the only way
Is via an overdose of love her kind so crave
Am being deliberately manipulative having
Had a glimps at her future I have to mold her
His eyes untrusting brown
Brows furrowed in permanent frown
Skin weathered
From the ground he tendered
And the whiskey goes down.
His unruly dark hair
Living a life he can’t bare
Heart hardened
Like the soil he pounded
And the whiskey goes down.
His tanned arms
Strength running the farms
Frustration heated
From the fire he beat
And the whiskey goes down.
Papa I cry
And from that name he does shy
He does not look
His shoulders merely shook
As the bottle hides beneath the tree
He doesn’t seem to see
This is normal for me
And the whiskey goes down.
(Patterned off the famous folk song 'Men of Harlech,' which is in the public domain.)
Men of freedom hear them wailing,
from the truth they’re always quailing,
scared of work or real travailing,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom stop their screaming,
and their socialistic dreaming,
give them all a much-earned reaming,
all those wokish men.
Slavish souls disgusting,
cultish minds untrusting,
silencing all who dare speak true,
because inside they’re nothing.
Men of freedom don’t surrender,
these fools are brainless pretenders,
cannot tell a him from a her,
not like free-born men.
Men of freedom must hold steady,
keep your A.R.s clean and ready,
when time comes make your aim deadly,
fight like free-born men.
Take your boot and on them impress,
recall sic semper tyrannus,
tyrant scum will all be banished
faced with free-born men.
The ‘elites’ insulting,
they’re pedos revolting!
Living in an endless fear
of free-born men assaulting!
Men of freedom give no quarter
to those who would give us horror,
save your land for sons and daughters,
fight on free-born men.
Firm are those the vines that entrap mine heart;
So valiant are those champions that do so impart;
On a voyage of truths that seek and speak so darkest light;
In seclusion running forth evading so the toothless vampire blight;
Normal human remains so distain visit unawares;
Demons and Dragons and vagabond soldiers stare:
Equating debating vibrant untrusting realities:
Yet instilled he gums his victim sucks blood from vein carnalities;
Death rest its allure on the hillsides and impart valley peak;
Vermillion is the blood color so brilliant as it spills and drills down her neck;
11/17/21 ©
• For ''V'' New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
I feel eyes watching me before I notice the woman across the room.
I try not to stare, but she does not seem to mind.
We are in the library, the only two here.
Her caramel eyes are pensive, wary.
She is hypervigilant, unhurried, unpressured.
I smile but she does not reciprocate.
I think of her as the watcher
wondering what has caused her
to develop and hone
this kind of untrusting awareness.
using Tamerlane verse (Edgar Allen Poe)
As windows on this world get stuck;
disgust demands space on the lip.
Events I have not thought about
reveal hatred, make me upchuck
and fills untrusting minds with doubt.
Men’s base unkindness gets a grip
attacking vision with its whip.
When insult renders reason flat
without question, the end is that.
No hope - political affairs,
instead I offer frequent prayers
and leave off worry, spin and cares.
I probe God’s promise verse by verse
unearth a blessing sans a curse.
To find His voice removes the strain
and clears the fog off windowpane.
Man’s self-control declines with time
suspicion, vitriol are primed.
Determined thought will never still
discourtesy as major cause.
Respect needs willingness to chill
for biased minds feed scruple’s flaws.
January 9, 2020
Dear Heart's Contest: Take the Dagger Out
VOICES ECHO THROUGHOUT THE AREA
THE SOUNDS OF LOVERS PAST
FROM PERSON TO PERSON
SHE SPEAK OF THEIR NAMES
SMILES ABOUT THE MEN IN HER PAST
SHE SPEAKS OF HER INTERVENTIONS
WHERE SHE OFFERED ADVICE TO UNDERMINE
SHE SPEAKS OF BEING UNTRUSTING AS A FREIND
AND BEING UNLOYAL AND UNKIND
SHE WISHES TO BE HONORED AS A WHORE
THE SCUMMY KIND OF PERSON PEOPLE FEAR
SHE LOVES TO MAKE WOMEN ANGRY
THEIR LACK OF TRUST: REFUSES TO ALLOW HER NEAR
SHE STANDS IN WINDOWS SINGING
FOR ONLY IN GOD THAT THIS WOMAN TRUST
HER DEEDS ARE ALWAYS UNDERMINING
SHE SPEAKS OF DOING SUCH
YET THE AUTHER OF UILLUSTRATED PAINTINGS
WILL ONE DAY SKETCH MY FACE
THEY WILL SPEAK ME AS A SINNER
AND WORSHIP ME AS A SAINT
love the unlovable,
when its time to let go,do not cry.
loosen you grip, divide the fingers,
and wish them well
for you were the only person who opened your
cold bones to the untrusting thrones
of the unknown.
giving so unselfishly,
while wishing them the best
while on this cold,
not in your control journey
you fed them the best knowelege
know watch them walk away
no thank you's,no hugs,
love the unlovable
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