Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Call upon me the day the Virgin Mary had an abortion
I carried out my sentence as the birth of the apocalypse
death to a savior, save me, Lord forgive, troubled times
but no reason for reason within the sanctuary of a sinner
begin in the mind, be blind and lead others, It doesn't
matter if you land in Hell, just don't abandon your brother
it becomes sacrifice of me and mine for a temporary smile
on a childs face, so I don't waste time and take that leap of faith
and tell God to call upon me the day
the Virgin Mary had an abortion, as I am born to a saint
daughter of Mari, looked over by a fallen angel
holding tight to life, floating on destiny, I call out to the Lord
to call upon me
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Subjective to the eyes upon words, poems are never
the same twice.
Quiet as snow fall you revealed the truest form of a self centered
"October" day.
Leaves fall in a similar pattern to unfamiliar words being recited
around an ever-
trusting ignorant society. Perhaps the "Road not Taken" is where
i shall resign
my poetic beliefs and live as a reborn gust of wind, blowing lives
in foretold
directions. I have taken the time from time which has already
escaped my life
and given it too less of a friend, which became more of a burden.
Pride bursts
out in every direction giving reason for blame when blame insults
the very
essence of my reflection. One star permanently blazed into an
empty sky can
depend on me like clockwork, for I am the first to call criticism upon
"Frost" in the
winter. If it were truly that simple then the pen would lose it's importance
as the
tool of our trade. Who said that brilliance was not born,
only created through
practice? Then would be the time too call yourself gifted.
A lifetime is lived "For
once, Then Something" and until time is chosen none will be revealed.
In my
world; the sun will not shine without the loss of the moon,
the rain only falls upon
broken smiles, and the breeze is never as cold as "Frost".
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Painful thoughts come to mind
knowing my eyes are truly blind
When your body swerves, coinciding with my words
hear me speak and keep it JUDGEMENTAL
my weapon is a pen, and life is my pencil
mistakes are erased, pace your every breath
I know your every words, it's my escape
with nothing left, and there is only one who
tests such feelings so true, when reality breaks
for the beauty in you...
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Poetic passions hold true to their creators
Soul nights seek vengence upon those
without, never to reunite pain with tears,
and blissfull silence stands tall amoungst
lost forevers, with doubt but always one step
behind, closing in on Fates unaintable
destination, although aimless in procedure
to struggle is to bleed, blazing trails through
life, following hurt, feeling pain, its just my life...
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2006
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Someone once told me the secret of Happiness...
unstable as the pity of man
seeds grew too less of honor
between cries and those moments
hearts stuck at the hour between Fear and Disbelief
when dreams come true, why do i awaken
to a nightmare continued
rattled at the sound, screeching
shadows creep, in silence
...because...
Someone once told me the secret of Happiness...
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
I've seen a saint suffer no less
than a crucifixion
When the strongest man in the world
was bruised by a kiss
From the lips of the only woman
to blossom without life
But when it came time to accept pain
you wouldn't believe
A father of four begging for death
So what hurts worse than pain?
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
From afar I cried you away.
My tears swept you close
to my heart where you stay.
So play with your toy
live well in your game.
You called me just a charcter
a fabled name.
Jumping when strings pulled
I know the routine.
What was meant to be written
was meant to be seen.
Prior to things like late nights and happy days
there was a poet with a gift
and he called it
Wordplay.
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
More than a game, it was a heart from
a royal flush. I saw her every flaw which
told me her true hand. A slight twitch
in her eye told the bluff, as she tugs
her earlobe and raises the stakes. I call
her on the hand that would send her to
bankruptcy. She reveals a straight flush. I glance
over my fool's hand and fold. It was only
one heart away from a royal flush....At least
thats what I tell my wife.
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
Can you P.U.S.H.?
Till an easy breeze reaching 3am
watching the clock, tick, tock
until 3 comes again, like a click-
click of poetrys anxious pen
anticipating, waiting, for that time
to strike again, silent cries that come
within, bursting out through a letters
curve, gives just enough time to rhyme
another word, so absurd, who was
heard from another mans pain
Dear GOD I can't wait for 3 to
strike again
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2006
|
Details |
Jeremy Carlton Poem
With time it grew taller and stronger
the harder I tried, the harder it was.
21 years and counting, knowledgeable in my days
I just can't do it, plummet to eternity
chasing a noose the plummet has ended.
So what is it really I've done so wrong?
Bloodstained pain pierced my naked body.
Swearing me to pitiful tears, I knew what had come
and beginning with my last step
I thank God for saving my life.
Copyright © Jeremy Carlton | Year Posted 2007
|