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Best Poems Written by Edward Jones

Below are the all-time best Edward Jones poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Wishing, Hoping ,Praying

Wishing, Hoping, Praying

I wish so badly that I was dead
Found in a tree hung under head
The tender kiss felt from a rope
Its for this end that I do hope
To end the pain felt day to day
Its for my death that I do pray
So I am wishing, hoping and praying
That from a tree ill soon be swaying
Its not the fear of being dead
Its living life that I do dread
Its living in this hell on earth
To the day I die back to my birth
And all the days in between
Make this life seem so obscene
So when the day does finally come
And to my wish I do succumb
Ill look and find a hopeful tree
Then ill pray on bended knee
Ill climb the tree a limb up high
And to my neck the rope apply
Look around give one last sigh
And when I drop begin to cry

By Mr. E. Jones

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The Lamb

I did open the door, that let them in
Not minding my mother, my only sin
Oh so many a time, had I been told
Not to open the door, after we closed
I did not listen, but I surely did hear
I started to cry, so many a tear
Gun to my head, and mom on the ground
Forced to watch, without making a sound
The look in her eyes, it is hatred I see
The look she was giving, was focused on me
She tried to struggle, she tried to fight
But hopeless it was, I felt my contrite
Close he did hold me, hair in his hand
Come with me, his voice did command
Into the bathroom, with the other one went
Over the sink, is where I was bent
Slamming my face, into the sink
When I did wake, my blood I did drink
The sorrow the agony, the sheer pain
Why did he leave me, why wasn’t I slain
What he had done, to me on that day
Words I cant speak, or even convey
Images haunt me, his eyes do taunt me
Mirrors that vex me, for life did he hex me
Now I am a man, no longer thirteen
One day my mouth, I could not get clean
So I had all my teeth, pulled from my face
Now I feel ugly, I am such a disgrace
But If I give up, it means that they win
Would that be so bad, is It such a great sin
For the sorrow I feel, and the tears I do cry
The nightmares I have, and the wishing Id die
They Are the things, that make me who I am
Lead to the slaughter, I was only a lamb

Details | Edward Jones Poem

Lovers Moon

When the moons soft lips kiss the sunset
Veils of darkness close there arms around us
And light bleeds through a pin pricked sky
From distant worlds we can only imagine
And the suns once warm and yellow rays
Are now white and cold on lunar reflections
A dead world, that only shines in darkness
A Jewel on black velvet, a pearl on the sea
A lighthouse to eyes that sail in the night
And as they say with a moth to a flame
So to can you say the moon is to lovers

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Stop the Madness

People dieing all around
Children found in trunks unbound
For there I families I do weep
I hope in heaven there souls sleep
Giant buildings down come crashing
Airplanes into them are smashing
Subway trains and busses blowing
The face of death always showing
Terror alert condition red
I see their faces, all of them dead
Why cant all the killing end
Why cant all the bridges mend
Why cant man become as one
And let Gods will be done

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Eternal Rose

THE ETERNAL ROSE

Yes a rose has its beauty
Only seen by the eyes 
But as a rose matures 
That beauty fades and dies 
But a women 
As she matures 
Only grows more beautiful day by day 
For unlike a rose 
Her beauty is in who she is 
And that never fades away 

By Mr. E. Jones

Details | Edward Jones Poem

To Believe, Or Not To Believe.

TO BELIEVE, OR NOT TO BELIEVE

A dialect forms from an undesired breath
Disjointed in my intent
Extraneous to the meaning others perceive 
My juxtaposition holds much ambiguity 
When I consider the allegory of good versus evil
Morally abstracted in my own perceptions
Am I the minority facing the torrent?
Or are the eyes of knowledge slowly becoming the majority
What are the ramifications of my faith?
Or the lack there of
Has my curiosity closed the gates to my soul?
Am I the tempest to my own moral Armageddon?
In my knowledge have I become tainted?
Unable to ever again rely solely on faith
Unable to return to the ignorance others desire
Or will enlightenment be the savior of man
How is it we are educated to believe we are a reflection of invisibility
When a unification of matter is the vessel of our creation
And matter is a tangible fabric
Ignorance is the loom from which man has woven himself
When in truth the Sun is our father
Our mother is the Earth
And water the womb in which the seed of life was dispersed
 
By Mr.E. Jones

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Rebirth, a Second Chance

When the dark has come,and the day has gone,
and the moon shines full,like a night time sun,
when good has died, and evil spawn,
then dream time comes, and I am reborn,
for its within my heart so burnt and bitter,
with the thoughts of what could have been,
and that witch was not,that lies my soul,
a lifeless mass,an empty void,
feared with mere thoughts and questions,
and in a web,spun of the fibers of ones mind,
lives Vapor,dream demon supreme,
so fear the darkness, and fear the night,
for I am the demon, embraced by the light,
and though the demons journey may have eneded,
the mystery has just begun.

Details | Edward Jones Poem

The Last Son.

Tell me father once again 
Of how it used to be
Back when man could walk the land
About birds and fish and trees

Tell me about the oceans
About trains and boats and cars
And how people used to meet
At shopping malls and bars

Tell me about the writers 
And the stories that they wrote
The books that became movies
About the languages that they spoke

Tell me about the weather
And the sun that warmed your face
Then the snow that fell from skies
About the cold that took warms place

Tell me about the people
All the colors that they be
Then tell me about eyes again
And what it is to see

Tell me father tell me please
Just tell me once again
Father,Father! oh father
Father is this the end

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Sleep of the Damned

Darkened dreams that fill my head
Nightmarish visions, a bloody bed
Under foot, on the ground I see
A crimson puddle, a puddle of me
Warm sensations, run down my leg
I must be strong, and I will not beg
Then I wake, from a sweat filled sleep
My body shaking, in a coiled  heap
Tears start pouring, like a falling rain
Breathings hard, and my chests in pain
I try to think, of some better time
But there are none, at least not mine
So I suffer through, the sights and sound
This is my life, to it I am bound

Details | Edward Jones Poem

My Body, My Temple

Within this temple,
lives a God,
a demon,
and a devil,
but God knows not,
the who,
the why,
or the what,
the when,
or the where,
it will be,
its simply because,
if he is,and or was,
he has been,
and will always,
be me,
the unquestionable,
Mr.E.