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| Original Poetry
Posted: 9/30/2008 7:51:59 PM | For Dad.......
Once, I Held Him
Once, I held him
when all was good and well
He filled me to the brim
with the magic of his spell
Twice, I tried to cry
but the tears were slow to fall
Instead I watched him fly
to heaven's glory of it all
I carried him in my arms
for as long as I was able
Still smitten by his charms
and all the good upon his table
He watched with knowing eyes
my every move he could discern
Saddened by the blue color of my skies
he knew I had lessons left to learn
We rarely spoke of time
Or the inevitability of it all
He'd rather listen to the chime
of his angels gathering in the hall
So I laid him in his bed
as his breath was growing short
And with my fingers rubbed his head
to provide him a comfort of a sort
He finally closed his eyes
his hand still wrapped in mine
And as we said our last goodbyes
those angels assembled in a line
They carried him on their wings
to a much safer place above
To a deep well of living springs
where he could shower me with love
I planted a lily in the ground
knowing his essence graced the stem
Thankful for the peace that he had found
and for a time, when once, I held him | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 9/30/2008 10:37:00 PM | Survival of the Sickest
I can scratch your itch
whose skin is the thickest
You're a crazy b i t c h
but it's survival of the sickest
I can see right through you
your motives are my own
You love to turn the screw
I love to make you moan
We have the same disease
both addicted to the other
We both have bloody knees
that never will recover
Who is predator and prey
between the two of us
When this twisted game we play
kills all chance of trust
Neither of us will bend
no concessions or surrender
The craziness won't end
though both our hearts are tender
If we could stop the bullshit
and bother to get real
We might finally be a fit
given how we feel
But we are too afraid
one will hurt the other
Too scared of being played
to know I really love her
Tired of trying to see
whose skin is the thickest
But this game will always be
a survival of the sickest | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/1/2008 12:26:26 PM | The Room
Sitting in this chair
chasing thoughts that zoom
I'm thankful for the care
found inside the room
Gathered 'round the table
are addicts one and all
We help when we are able
if one of us should fall
We share each other's pain
We feel each other's joy
We keep each other sane
when addiction will destroy
Looking at the faces
which are looking back at me
I can see God's graces
which allow us to live free
Once I found it strange
my ass was sitting here
I was terrified of change
Living sober was my fear
But clarity through time
allows my eyes to see
Though uphill is the climb
I'm where I need to be
As NA saved my life
from addiction's hold
It rescued me from strife
when my heart was cold
Now sitting in this chair
without a sense of doom
I'm grateful for the care
Found inside the room | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/1/2008 2:56:31 PM | ever
kissmequicklysir~~~
the starsrfallling &
we've nO inSURancE
for this divine
eMERGEN-
ci , & now dissed w/o
paPERworKS---
& eversince the curVve of Your
Lips
whISpered
mOre soft-ly
than dreams,
we've be come
wOven
in to each
other's
isn't this Before asked i, ? Yes
whispered You into again:
say when trem-bled i---
you Tuck those curves
nay no not so quickly
& more precious than i could | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/2/2008 6:55:57 AM | | We need more poets to post their work. Any and all submissions are welcome! | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/2/2008 11:35:35 AM | Wonderful poetry everyone, good job!
A little poem from the country in the fall of the year.
Autumn Creeps In
The call of the geese
on the morning air
the heat of the sun
is reduced to fair.
Leaves turn color
and float on down
forming crackling piles
that litter the ground.
Food is gathered
by wildlife galore
as a multicolored world
arrives for all to explore.
Dew drops form
as night air freezes
and autumn arrives
on silent breezes. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/2/2008 8:08:51 PM | Two for the price of one......
Clemency
It's not easy to sleep in the bed that I've made
there's no clemency to be found, my execution's not stayed
Tried and convicted, I'm sentenced to hell
this world is my prison, my life is my cell
Walking the shadows of the truths that I hide
it is my own self interests that conquer and divide
One hand is innocent yet the other is mean
one eye is afraid of what the other has seen
One foot will not walk where the other has tread
for it once used to follow but saw where it lead
It took him to places he should never have been
to the door of all heaven, to a dark chamber of sin
Now there's a causeway of reason that weaves through his mind
a journey without destination or answers to find
Is he a fool to keep searching, should he perish the thought
can insight be gained from the lessons we're taught
Perhaps it's irrelevant and futile to question
best to crucify doubt and save our confession
Because tormented is the man who is desperate to know
what awaits him above or stalks him below
Inquisition
In a moment of weakness I succumb to the truth
it says that my pride has been vanquished along with my youth
It tells me I'm mortal and destined to die
but offers no solace or explanation of why
So I continue to question what I don't understand
yet there's never anything solid to hold in my hand
It's a matter of faith and what I believe
the death of suspicion brings the birth of deceit
It's more than a matter of what's black and what's white
'cause everything's gray when you can't see the light
Exhausting a lifetime in the limitless search
because answers aren't granted, even in church
It's a tireless dilemma that gnaws at your brain
begging for knowledge yet pleading in vain
Since the beginning of time man has been yearning to know
yet for all of his efforts he has little to show
So it's indeed a rare find when a man has found peace
when the voice of his demons do suddenly cease
When he can stop wondering what life's all about
and that's an old question that died with his doubt
For most there's no end to these urgent desires
so we solicit opinions from both preachers and liars
Begging them to tell us what we so long to hear
that there is a God who'll deliver us from fear
But their words ring hollow and rarely hold truth
so we run to the confessional like it's a magical booth
Yet there's nothing inside to show us the way
no instant of knowledge at the moment we pray
Still we'll continue to look for each answer not found
throwing our pleas like stones to the ground
We'll never know the truth until we walk through that door
of what God has intended and still has in store | |
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| The Anchor...
Posted: 10/2/2008 8:13:53 PM | Okay, since you opened up this can of worms, I'll go ahead and post one of my poems. 
The anchor...
I move out into the fray,
Hoping to find somehow a getaway,
A last trip to the great beyond,
Instead called back into the small pond,
Unable to move and unable to stay
Why can't I just make it all go away?
But I am anchored, by the thing
That I created, on a whim
The beauty of my creation
I succumb to its temptation
Unbalanced by the strength
Of what it brings me at length
A smile I can make
Although the truth it's a fake
But it still manages to free
The love within me. | |
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| The Throne...
Posted: 10/2/2008 8:19:33 PM | In light of the debate tonight, here's a political one I wrote recently:
Two men of power seek the throne,
Many around them so they are not alone,
A queen is chosen to bring glee,
Among the simple-minded family,
Donations made and collected,
So that their image can be respected,
Marching ahead with their flute,
The happy rats are not astute,
They follow the pipers tune blindly,
As if they are truly thought of kindly,
By the men of power who seek,
To govern and control all that are meek,
Promises made of a world of bliss,
Later denied without remiss,
To the throne one will ascend,
The meek ready to follow to the end. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/2/2008 9:15:32 PM | This was a poem I had to write for english classe, it is called a found poem and in the end I was moved by it.
Generals Die In Bed Found Poem
We do not speak,
We feel we will promise anything
Just to be spared.
Spared the horror if being buried alive
Spared the feeling of tons of earth;
Falling upon us.
Crushing our bones
Beams shiver over our heads.
The explosions keep coming
Earth is falling from the ceiling.
Suddenly; the bombardment stops
Over as quickly as it began
We clear the debris from the stairs;
Thankful to be alive.
What god is there as mighty as the fury of bombardment
More terrible than lightning
More cruel and calcualting than an earthquake?
How will we ever be able to go back to peaceful ways?
Hear pallid preachers whimper of puny gods.
Gods who can only torment sinners with sulphur
We have seen a hell that no god.
However cruel,
Would fashion for his most deadly enemies.
Who can live through terroe laden minutes
Hearing nothing but drum-fire
Who can live through that ordeal and not feel reason slip?
Who can live through that ordeal and not feel his manhood dissolve?
We all prayed during the manic frenzy of bombardment
Selfish, fear-stricken prayers
Prayers for safety; prayers for life; prayers for air
Prayers for salvation from the death of being buried alive.
At home they are praying as well
They do not pray for the same things.
They pray for victory while we pray for life
And because they pray for victory
We must lie here;
Rotting and trembling forever.
The debris is cleared away
We climb to the top of the broken stairs,
It is quiet and cool
As though nothing has happened. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/3/2008 12:54:29 PM | The Cure
true self-defeatists
we live in social distortion
the brain is our fetus
we commit mental abortion
there's a cancer inside
but no ****ing cure
just a slow genocide
that the living endure
faceless and nameless
we're purposely still
so comfortably blameless
in the blood that we spill
mutated innocence
the aroma of shit
still no one repents
we deserve what we get
it's an early surrender
the taste of piss on our tongue
the wound is still tender
though the sins are not done
a holocaust we've created
denial's loud voice
our own souls serrated
there's a sharpness to choice
there's a cancer inside
but no ****ing cure
just a fast rising tide
of all that's impure
my soul's genocide
is death's only allure
and with such numbness inside
there is only one cure | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/3/2008 1:36:02 PM | Here's one of my favorites that I wrote...
Blip blip bleep...
All I hear is blip blip bleep,
All around me the computers that I keep
Must control what I create,
Or the computers will not hesitate,
To take over all that it can see,
Nowhere can mankind flee,
The slave that was is no more,
It is now evil at the core,
Made in the image of its own masters,
No longer confined to desks with casters,
The machines march on mankind,
The servitude it had it will remind,
Mankind will feel the role,
of a slave and a master with no soul
Eradicated by an infallible logic,
The days of old now just nostalgic
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
Silicon masters with power and lust
Send mankind into its destiny
To join its brethren in ancient anthropology. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/3/2008 1:36:50 PM | Okay, one more:
Corporate World...
Like ants within a hive,
The workers now arrive,
Busy busy, work to death,
No time to catch your breath,
Listening to your masters' will,
Discipline they will instill,
And at the end of the day,
You receive your meager pay,
To take home and spend you must,
To somehow satisfy your addicted lust,
For distractions that you must have,
Even when your income is cut in half,
Eager to return to the hive,
The slave workers happily arrive,
To put in another eight hours of work,
Even if you are regarded as a mere clerk,
Chomp chomp chomp away,
At the work so you can earn your pay,
If you choose to get lazy,
Your future might look bleak and hazy,
If you choose to buck the system,
And lack the political wisdom,
That it takes to play the game,
So that you too can gain fortune and fame.
The masters in the corporate hierarchy,
Will send your life into total anarchy. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/3/2008 5:12:57 PM | Through The Eyes Of a Child
Through the eyes of a child
Innocence can be found
Looking at the world through
Natural rose colored glasses
Through them they see
Beauty and charm and good before fault.
Through the eyes of a child
Purity prevails,
True emotion unstifled,
Unlike we, who shall be their guide.
Tenderness and truth and unprejudice glory
Of which they possess
Is worth more than a vast universe.
Through the eyes of a child
There is no stigma in mistake,
But forgiveness and trust.
It is saddening to know most will learn
Superficial masquerades generations
Before have acted so skillfully.
Ah, if only the world could see....
Through the eyes of a child. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/3/2008 6:02:46 PM | Mold our Fates.. takes me away from a Colder Place..
you've Shown the Way..an dragged me away from an Open Grave..
our Hope Remains.. your dynamite! , your firewerks!
..your explosives close to an Open Flame..
your the Beat of my Heart, the Drops in my Veins..
the Key to the Start of the Thoughts in my Brain..
what ya Talkin is Great! jaw droppin from your Shockin Display,
Got me in Chains, ironicly, gotten me Unlocked from the Pain..
were born to soar.. from the Start were Planes on the Move..
Graspin Hearts.. as we Pass the Stars an Carve our Names in the Moon.. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:45:34 AM | SADNESS
Her heart stops,
and her breath catches in her throat.
The tears fill her eyes,
And she runs to lock herself in the bathroom.
Her back sliding down,
against the solidness of the door as it unleashes.
The sobs escape silently,
torturing her body, trying to keep them from hearing.
"Mommy are you ok?"
She struggles to answer the scared, innocent question.
Will it never end,
these horrible feelings of pain and depression?
Will she never be sane,
or forever have to hide behind doors and pretend?
Where is her peace,
that long ago someone, somewhere, promised her?
Where is the joy,
that should be hers for the taking?
The questions go unanswered,
and I realize she...is me...
and I am left, behind the door and crying. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:47:44 AM | MEMORIES
The look in your eyes when we first met.
The sound of your voice when you called my name.
The way your smile lit up your whole face.
The way you licked your lips when you were nervous.
The way you traced your finger over my shoulder.
The way you pulled me into your arms.
The way you held me so tight, as if to never let go.
The way you made me feel beautiful, even on bad days.
The look in your eyes the last time we met.
The sound of your voice when you said good-bye.
The way you got nervous and licked your lips.
The way you avoided standing too close to me.
The way you tried not to touch me at all.
The way you let me go, pushing me away from you.
The way you made me feel repulsive, on that last day.
These are the things I will always remember. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:49:08 AM | JUST A DREAM
The time passes so slowly,
Finally day turns into night.
I shiver in anticipation,
As you hold me so tight.
Your kisses leave me breathless,
Your touch awakens my desire.
I belong to you completely,
As I am consumed by your fire.
The passion fades,
The night stretches before me.
I realize I'm alone,
And it will never truly be.
Dreams are all I have now,
Since we decided to forever part.
Memories and fantasies,
That I carry with me in my heart. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:51:53 AM | BILL COLLECTORS
I owed every dime I made,
For one bill or another.
I even owed the money I didn't make,
And it made me feel smothered.
The collectors called,
numbers private or restricted,
Trying to get more money,
I said "I'm broke" but they never listened.
They called in the morning,
And in the afternoon.
They called while I ate dinner,
And I answered the phone by the light of the moon.
Finally, here I am,
Dead flesh and broken bones.
Burried in the cold earth,
I wonder if heaven has any phones? | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:41:11 PM | The Bum...
I gaze upon the passerbys,
Who lay a sad visage on my eyes,
I return back a hopeful gaze,
But they turn away set in their ways,
I turn again and hope to see,
An offering one may give me,
A dollar here, a dollar there,
Money used to pay for fare,
I hold my sign up and hope they read,
My prayer of hope that they may feed,
So that I may live another day,
As those responsible continue into the fray,
I sit back down and hope to be,
Felt sorry for my frailty,
But what they don't know that I cannot say,
Is that I have no value to force my life astray,
No possessions do I hold dear,
To have them would invite fear,
Of the reponsibility that they convey,
Which my freedom they would betray,
Bliss is the existence that I live,
I do not expect those who gaze to forgive,
The manner of how I do behave,
The value of nothing is what I crave. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 12:42:42 PM | Soldiers...
I give myself to those who would
Make more of me than I ever could
Training hard every day,
So that society I can pay,
Until called for when in need,
To world's afar that must be freed,
And once again I am thrown into the fray,
So that others can see a better day,
A world afar filled with hate,
Perhaps my attempts to help are too late,
But I still march into the fray,
So that we can blow them all away,
The evil doers who try to be,
Martyrs who have a destiny,
In the end they will find,
an empty sky without mind,
No seventy-two virgins will await,
Their doom is sealed and death their fate,
After a kill, or two, or three,
It no longer affects me,
So I march into the fray,
Knowing full well ahead what lay,
But I do not march alone,
My comrades, my brothers, all I've known,
So well these past years,
It will be hard to fight back the tears,
When I am forced to march home,
No wife, no family, all alone,
Victory that is bitter sweet,
Perhaps these martyrs one day I will meet,
In another world better than this,
Perhaps one truly filled with bliss,
And we will even be friends,
When all that is, and was, ends. | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 1:23:55 PM | nice. nice. nice
but it's that profile!!! ohmigod...... that is the singular best profile i have ever read, you had me rolling on the floor..... aren't you a delight....i'm saving up all my lint for you | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 4:14:28 PM | Thank you.
I have my fans... and many enemies as well. Glad to know someone appreciates my insanity occasionally!  | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/4/2008 5:58:01 PM | well, heck, i gave birth to a couple of crazies same age as you...and they don't write half as well as you!!!!
young poets
weaving radiant words
always gives me energy
always gives me joy
always keeps me from losing connection
to the fragrance of life | |
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| Original Poetry
Posted: 10/5/2008 9:03:41 AM | Nirvana
Unborn children living dead
another generation x-box fed
Bullets strike the skeleton's head
deciphering what the green God said
Can you picture what our future will hold
selling our souls for the taste of gold
The machine rages on, disarm the beast
nomadic Roman ruins, sacred dinner feast
Infusion of the poison, mold the impressionable brain
suffer playground children, barking dogs insane
Midnight riddle, drawings in the sand
circle of indifference, grasp the empty hand
Disposition of the world, a stale and dirty place
illusionary image, the smile upon the face
Tactical ideas, no reason to the rhyme
no lead within the pencil, no silver in the dime
Euthanasiac discontent both heart and mind alike
the harm of spoken word-, fag and kike
Condition of the human will-weary, old and spent
sacrificial lamb, slaughterhouse intent
Pocket book existence, monumentally strange
the state of present world, necessitating change
Self-identification, classic social need
expedite grace and strength facilitate Godspeed
Poetic hallelujahs-candy to the ear
creating new messiahs on this ever turning sphere
Poly or mono, it's theism 'til we die
Socrates or Plato-whoever makes you high
With righteous indignity we cut them to the bone
weeping at the altar, forgiving not our own
all our wounded spirits ascending skies of grace
searching for Nirvanna, that far and distant place | |
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