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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Can a man, who does not believe,
Fall to his knees,
And beg some relief?
Can one, who has been given,
The life of a dream,
Ball his fists?
Nails dug into the palms till they bleed…
Look to the heavens and scream…
And be heard?
Is it right to love something so damn much,
That the anger inside,
Rips at your pride,
And the pain is unbearable to the touch?
Is my hate a cop out?
Is it a way to deal?
Maybe a method to my madness;
Which allows me to feel?
Will God help me with this sadness?
If I still fail to believe?
I ask;
Is it me I deceive?
Can I truly let go?
Allow the curtains to close on this show?
Raise my hand in farewell,
And hold praise in my heart for this hell?
If I spit venom,
Out of spite…
Can I stand proud?
For having rode the torrent,
And call it right?
If my tears run free,
With the lump in my throat,
That seizes me,
Can I stare you in the eye?
And ask that you remember me?
Or is it my greed?
Or this anger,
Once at seed?
Now in full bloom…
So emotional,
Uncontrollable,
Inconsolable,
Confused…
Grasping…
So much that I am asking;
Can God help me now?
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Is it quiet enough here in your head? The chaos of the mind has subsided to a dull roar. The battle with self has come to a stalemate. Both sides have withdrawn, not in retreat, but in an attempt to resupply.
The rancid smell of past thoughts permeate your senses. Memories are left strewn across the war-zone, their death stark upon your emotions. It is time to recruit new dreams to send into the fight, to become heroes; or be left for dead on the battlefield in your head.
That the battle could be won says nothing of the war in your soul. It is here that the conflict escalates to nuclear proportions. Even though you hold your fingers over the button, your resolve is smashed. You bring those trembling fingers to your face, wipe the tears, and know you have failed again.
Or is it failure when you live to fight another day? A simple foot soldier in the trenches of yesterday never believes they are the future General of tomorrow. Often you live in the present fight, with tunnel vision focused on the enemy surrounding you. It is hell when you realize that the enemy is only you. But your back is against the wall and you are not accustomed to losing.
And the battle rages on, dreams are shattered against the front lines of reality. The masses engulf the weak; will is broken. The once barren plains now run red with the blood of hope. The skies are clouded with the mists of loss and the scent on the air induces the desire to stop breathing forever.
The last sounds you hear are screams. You never realize that the screams are your own.
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2014
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
You are my drug,
My substance of choice,
The chemicals in my blood…
She, who calms the violent voice…
Without you; I tremble,
I stammer and I shake…
When you are near; I fumble,
Within my soul; I quake…
My addiction; that is you,
Is fire in my veins…
My affliction; I infuse,
Only thoughts of you remain…
There is no rehab for this pleasure,
No exception for this high…
A single dose cannot be measured,
In your absence I would die…
Strung out for life…
Dependant to the core…
Powder, pills or liquid,
I need you more and more…
Should I ever be denied,
Unto death I would depart…
For methadone could not subside,
These track marks on my heart…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Walking through the guarded gate and onto my children’s school grounds, the impact of the
80mm and 120mm mortars crashing to earth caused me to pause. When you couple this with
the repetitive thrumming of the 50 caliber machine gun and the acoustics on the hill top, you
feel as if you’re in a combat zone. The deep reverberating pulses that the blast of the
weaponry left in my chest, the slight ringing in my ears, the un-worldly feeling that
something was going to land near me, gave me that very realistic feeling.
Yet the children ran to and fro, laughing, playing; seeming oblivious to the horror that those
sounds bring to our enemies. I am not sure if they even hear them, even think of them; are
even aware of the violence of the world around them. To them and the other family
members of this military community, they hear the sound of freedom. They hear the impact
of dominance in a world where, (to them) they believe our nation cannot, will not experience
defeat. Each and every impact is knowledge that their loved ones, (their Soldiers) the
fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers will live in absolution of the sin that they have or will in
the future commit in their country’s name.
Thus leaving the arguable question out on the table, is it a sin? Will they go to hell? It is the
disobedience of one of the commandments! Yet without hesitation we will pull the trigger and
thank god that we live to see our loved ones again.
To that man or woman who walks onto their children’s school ground, unguarded. To the
children who do not run to and fro, frolicking, laughing, and playing; to all who hear the
impact of a mortar or the repetitive thrumming of the 50 cal. Where the acoustics are
resounding off the cement buildings of your home and the laughter turns to horror, the
screams turn to nightmare; where going to school is a threat to life.
I am sorry, so sorry that the world sees even one human, one child, lover, mother, father,
sister, or brother; I am sorry they see us as so insignificant as to place you/us in harm’s
way. I apologize that they/we lift foot to step upon the masses.
Be it a terrorist, a misguided bomb, or the rage of a stressed out soldier who takes innocent
life because they believe it is right. We are all significant, we are relevant and to all… Should
peace ever come at last…?
I pray it lasts until our very last march…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
The Dance...
She arches her back and wails at the sky,
the tears rain down and the laughter dies.
Back from depression and on to sorrow;
her dance to love,
her race to tomorrow.
She picks her way through diligent steps.
In several beds she has never slept.
The ring of the taps,
the pain of the slaps
for mistakes she has made.
She takes her pain.
Erase her name.
Dance is what she lives for.
She’ll wail at the sky,
dance till she dies,
cry till they pick her from the floor.
Life is a step,
love is a trip.
Dance when there is nothing to dance for.
Cry out your pain,
play all the games.
Fame is a whXXe.
Try as you may to stay far away,
sooner or later you suffer.
Twirl and spin,
sooner or later you’ll win.
Nothing will be tougher.
So arch your back and cry.
Just wail at the sky.
Scream your confession of sin.
Dance to the light,
forget all your fright.
Just let the dance in...
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Molly III (Hanna)
She pulled her knees,
Up against her chest,
On floors of polished white…
Her thoughts astray,
She had closed away,
What took place that night…
Molly’s tears
In buckets, fell,
Warm like summer rain…
Madeline
Hair like wine,
Lost in hatreds flame…
Hanna sat,
In memory black,
Her back against the wall…
Molly weeping,
Madeline sleeping,
Hanna remembered it all…
“Ring around the Rosy”
She plays
“Daddies coming home today…”
“Ice cream cone,”
“Candy Cane,”
All he could to hide her pain…
To her room,
The darkness spins,
Daddy’s girl, destroyed in sin…
Molly called
From down the hall,
Breaking Hanna’s fright…
Her door opened wide,
With daddy inside,
His sin brought to light…
Daddy raged,
His fist swung wide,
Striking Molly’s face,
And Madeline
From behind,
Pulled dagger from its case…
Molly fell,
Through shattered glass,
On table wrought in stone…
Madeline,
Wailed in rage,
“Leave my girl alone…”
Daddy dropped,
Hands to side,
He turned to step away…
Madeline,
She took no time,
Daddy died that day…
Now she lay,
In chambers gray,
The needles pierce deep…
Hannah wrapped,
In Molly’s embrace,
Madeline gone to sleep…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Soldier's Plague
Cast away your dowry,
Farewell your lady dear,
To horse, mail, shield, and sword,
The plague of war draws near…
Radiance cuts the darkness,
He rides though the death knell prose,
Slaying the slanderer, slaughterer, sinner,
Horsemen; fear this knight of rose…
War would bask in glory,
As all mankind fell,
Destruction, devastation, and death,
Riding the scorching torrents of hell…
Two swords locked in battle,
Sundered breast bears breath of pain,
Slash the violence, hate, and carnage,
Cease this war again, again, again…
Standards stream on hill top won,
This victory a battle; small upon war,
Honor, courage, peaceful light,
We fight until he plagues us no more…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Cognizant of the cogs;
they oscillate, they reciprocate-
the movement of these thoughts.
Their transference caused by the tilting pendulum.
On mesh-toothed gears-
they travel.
Causing confusion- welded by fusion
to the recess of-
this simple mind.
Bent wheels spin;
signaling the conundrum- of sin;
they wind these gears again.
And the springs that are sprung-
from the path they are on-
bounce their way- full steam ahead.
You see - these thoughts that are thought,
they’re captured in the trough-
between the trapdoor - and their proper place…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2014
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
I have become lethargic,
Barely able to lift a care,
This outer body feeling,
Just kind of floating here…
My mind is in overdrive,
Wheels spinning at will,
Outside looking in,
Wondering if it is real…
I take a step back,
Placing one foot in front of the other,
I am pushed out to the front,
These pressures and burdens will smother…
I have lost my way in life,
Time and time again,
But I get right back on track,
And end up right back where I’ve been…
I keep keeping on,
It is what it is,
I am good at playing this game,
It is the life I live…
But when the time comes,
I will put it all away,
I will remember all I’ve done,
And live in the present day…
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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Evets Pordlaw Poem
Molly II (Madeline)
Madeline helped Molly stand,
On her own,
She was too weak…
They gazed at Sara,
In pools of blood,
Lying at their feet…
SHHHHH
Speak not of me,
And do not laugh,
Cast your stare aside…
From behind the pads,
Of darkened room,
And leather jacket tight…
Molly focused all her thoughts
On days,
That lay ahead…
She nodded constantly,
With deceptive smiles,
At all the doctor said…
Hand in hand,
In friendship found,
Together they walked the street…
Madeline from behind the mask
Molly,
In too deep…
Molly opened up,
Her blue eyes,
Wide with terror…
In her dreams,
She lost herself,
And found Madeline’s lair…
Trapped behind,
The doors of hate,
In the recess of their mind…
Molly realized,
Far too late,
To fear Miss Madeline….
Madeline,
With twisted face,
Drove the dagger deep…
Screaming bloody murder,
At the man,
Crumbled in the street…
With no remorse,
She glided back,
Gone without a care…
Molly fell to her knees,
In disbelief,
“What had happened here?”
Molly gazed upon,
The corpse,
At his dead eyed stare…
She heard the laughter,
In her mind,
“I am Sara’s sister, dear!”
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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