family

A piece of heaven! 2015

A piece of heaven! 2015

 

when we first met you could tell i needed a friend

so you took me under your wing and helped me to mend

you were quick to tell me i was worth saven

thats when i thought i was looking at a piece of heaven

your cheery attitude gave me reason to smile

and your endless happiness went on for miles

wheather you were talking to some one or waven

thats when i realized i was looking at a piece of heaven

and when my mom died you never left my side

you didnt give up on me instead you became my giude

family always came first to you they were your everything

there was nothing you wouldnt do for them you always made there heart sing

i looked into your loving eyes and knew your love you've freely given

and then i knew with out a doubt i was lookin at a piece of heaven

you made there world a better place and put a song in all there hearts

you always looked out for your daughter and was very proud of your son

pride and joy shows in your eyes when your grand kids are having fun

we're all lost with out you here your love and guidance draws you near

your strength and courage made you strong enough to concor all your fears

knowing you has been a pleasure you helped me to wanna go on living

by leaving a piece of heaven in all our hearts.

 

 

                          zoeycup16

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wrote this poem for a very special lady who i concider my second mother she was always making me laugh and feel better about all i was going thru this poem is for younRita I love you!!!

         zoeycup16

 

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*It's Not Fair You're Gone, But Your Memory Will Remain*

 

 June.23.2010

 Trisha Barrek Hopkins

 

It wasn't your time to go 

I don't care what others say

You were too young This they must know

You still had many days

That belonged to you 

To spend with family and friends 

It's still not fair

Yeah I might not known you for very long

But you left a stain on my life

Enough to touch my heart

Enough to make me care

I could see your one of a kind

I've seen that from the start

You're your own person

You I'll remember as an awesome soul

You had the purest of hearts

Worth more then gold

Here on earth you still belong

I'm so sad you had to part

God must have other plans in store

He took you from the world down below

His request we must not ignore

So to the heavens above you must go 

The angels brought you up through the clouds

To start a new

To be with the ones who went before you

The ones that you knew

And help them with those left behind

To look over and protect

To keep from harm

In everything you will reflect

Always reminding us of your charm

You will be greatly missed

Someone as cool as you in your own ways

I'll never find again

Your friendship was a gift

 

We will be in pain for awhile

Some will cry themselves to sleep

But this is a must we have to walk this mile 

The pain will be steep

To feel the heartace to cry "why him"

Soon the pain will partially go away

But your memory won't be forgotten

You will always be in our hearts

And minds everyday

God taking you this early some may think is rotten

But keep in mind you're really not gone

You are here with us in every way 

From a new born smile

To the warmth of the sun

Even the stars at night

That one shooting star

That's you holding on tight

Waving at us and saying hi

Letting us know your not that far

But we know soon enough we must say good-bye

But not forever and we will keep you in our heart

For we will be seeing you again

So for now we must move on with love

We must go

Not soon....We won't know when 

We will meet again

When God wants us to 

To you our love we will always send

For the short time we knew you 

I am happy to have gotten the chance to know

A man of your kindness

In time my heart will beable to mend

And in my heart your memory will always show

Your memory will live on 

It will never disappear only forever grow

 

Copyright

Author's Notes/Comments: 

dedicate to a friend of mine who died in his sleep

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My Grandfathers Toys

 

Monday through Sunday at any given hour me and my cousins would be expecting our grandfather to drop by and give us some new toys. From water guns, to action figures that stick to windows, to light up pens with musical tunes, we could always expect to get a new toy from my grandfather. I could see him as a modern Santa Clause driving in an old white Toyota overflowing with games and toys of every shape and color on the back and front seats, on the floor and even on the panel. Every time he came over to my house, even though he knew the answer, he would ask me if I wanted a toy. And every time I would say “yes!” With an excitement that made my blood run faster. He would go back to his “magic car”, as I used to call it, and he would bring back two options from which I had to choose. He would have both toys in either one of his hands and had them behind his back. He would first tell me to choose a hand, I could hear the cracking plastic that would protect them from getting any damage, then he would give me the toy that corresponded to either the right or left side but then I would ask for both toys, because I knew he would normally give me both, and he would say I will give you the other one under the condition that you give me a hug and a kiss. Of course I would agree to the terms and end up with two new toys. I can’t remember a day that I didn't see him smiling, I had never seen him mad or sad, never with a frown, only smiles were allowed within his expressions. All of his joy was reflected on the quantity of toys that he had accumulated in his car. The funny thing is that the toys that he gave us would always break a few hours after playing with them. They were Mexican toys which meant colourful and fun but made with a very bad quality. Those toys were more than pieces of colourful plastic, they were physical demonstrations of love and care which he knew that they will make us happy. My grandfather loved to play with us and he was very good with his hands. He would sometimes even make wood toys for us like tops or rocking horses and in special occasions he would buy us fireworks or video games. My grandfather loves me and my cousins and he loves to give more than to receive. He is a great man and a better role model.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This prose poem was inspired by my grandfather go loved me and all of my family very much. 

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The One Who

She is the one who betrays

She is the one who lies

She is the one who plays

Those silly games that wry

 

For she was apart of my tree

For she was at the table with me

For she was the strength

That gave me great length

 

Now she's gone

When she broke off

And went to the thorn

That was forn

           The Tree!

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*The Day The Angels Cried*

 

September-16 & 17-2002 
Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins
Dedicated to those of 9/11 

The day the angels cried 
We lost our life and our pride 
The day the angels cried 
Is the day we lost our children, husband, and wives 
What has changed? 
The strength of the world, our lives 
Its been rearranged 


The one above 
He'll help us through 
All we can do is love 
The ones we adored and knew 
For that's what they would want 
Even though that day will always haunt 

 

Things happen for a reason 
God please help us understand 
The right to our freedom 
We feel trapped and need a helping hand 

 

When the angels cried 
I knew how they felt 
They had let themselves down 
And didn't know the cards that have been dealt 
And all they can do now is ware a frown 

 

People feel so defenseless 
Yes our lives have changed 
And the ones we lost 
We will always miss 
We will make things work at any cost 

 

Within your self remember 
No one can take our faith 
Because every September 
The world comes together we remain sane and safe 

 

The day the angels cried 
The enemy went to hide 
But the world became strong 
And soon enough we'll find 
Those who did wrong 

 

As we pray for those who died 
We will remember always 
The day the angels cried 
For that's the day we came as one to pray 

 

In our changing lives 
They will always be in our heart 
September eleventh was a day of a new start 
The day we all came together 
The day for everyone to care 
For the strangers we didn't know 
This day will be on our minds forever 
The enemy don't want to mess with us 
They don't dare 
Because no mercy towards them will we show 

 

Trisha M. Hopkins

Copyright

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Seeds of bitterness

I didn’t know my grandpa very well, I had no idea what kind of life he had lived, no inkling as to how he had raised my family, I never knew how his childhood was like or what kind of things he did as a little boy. When I think of my grandpa, the first thing that comes to my mind is medicine, he used to take many, heart, blood pressure, diabetes, pain, swelling, the whole lot. I can’t imagine how he felt or what he was thinking, all I know is that in his last days, he was suffering. His past life had come round and was now taking back all the vigor and spryness that he had once possessed, his age had caught up to him. I try to think about what legacy he left behind, but I always come back to the medicines, I wonder about what my aunts, my uncle and my mother had to do for him to have those pills of relief, the money, the effort, the blood, sweat, and work that each of those tiny pills represented. I wonder how it felt to my family keeping this man alive, this man who had not been the best father, this man who  had neglected his family, that had started up fires of hate and resent that are still burning to this day within the hearts of his children. I can see the sadness they feel, the hole in them caused by this man, the loneliness, the longing, neither of which will completely disappear. My grandpa’s actions have already transcended him, his seeds have grown and are now releasing their own seeds, I only hope that the newest seeds will not grow crooked as their bearers before them and that they will bear fruits that will be sweet and free from the foul taste of bitterness.  And yet people who speak of my grandpa hold him in high regard, known for being sociable, for being able to start a conversation with anyone, for making a friend in every place he visited. They think of a humble man who knew how to cook, they think of a man who had a fulfilling life, who had raised a family and had managed to give them a future. My grandpa had two sides to him, and I’m not sure if I ever got to see either of them, but I’ve had plenty of time to see the results of his once being here and I feel that I’ll still see them in the years to come.

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fade away

Folder: 
2015

you're not that kind of girl
i know you don't believe me but
i've known you for too
long

 

but really

that girl is
a trick of your mind
you can push it in front of
little
telescopes,
make it see differently

 

sometimes i look over and i
don't know what you're thinking
most of the time
i don't know
and it makes me so sad

 

i don't know even more now
i'm losing touch

i'm losing sight

 

maybe once i lose sound
i'll fade away
and you can be that girl again

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 1/25/15

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tags:

Asian Eyes

Inside a room behind
shadows
shade,
silhouetted black hair
Khmer traditional wear
Ruined Dreamer
despair.
Crimson
Asian eyes
confession to
golden
indiscretions
thread
bare
to the illusions
she created
surely weighted
with regret .
Jaded dragon`s
fire
burned desire.
A single wet tear
a rivulet .
Pallid and breathless
restless
as the window
pain
is drowned with rain .
While
gauzy grey clouds gather .
Thunder crashes
sending the fiery ashes
of passion scattered
into pieces back
into life's creases .
Chasing the spiral
of everything that made me feel
connected now
has left me divided into
sections.
Locked in a
lightless room divided,
I can see through the smallest
of windows provided ,
past regret to the pinpoint of life
that blooms on the horizon
behind the Dark City where there`s always
an door open
to the blood moon rising .
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The Death of One

The Death of One


A blood orange moon hangs above
an ashen willow tree
underneath a path of cremated things.
Through the rotton remains
of something strange.
Descending down in thick black coils of mist
like snakes that move and twist , to the
Dark City where only death exists.


In each crosswalk , pushing past the cloned
cattle that crowd the street , going to slaughter
at the holy temples where they meet.
Down the parkway where every door painted red is
adorned with shrunken heads.
Bad religion holds dominion over those of
delusional opinions.


Coming upon a single oil lamp
shrouded in gloom above  a blackened door
heavy as a tomb.
Enshrined with cellar vines
decaying with corpse fed roots
that hang obtuse.


As the door struggles inward , the wind breathes shallow
candlelight throws shadows on the family congregation .
Slender  yellow eyes quiver ,
leer and lurch from atop their perch on a
mountain of belief , held upon pillars of salt
that crumble
thats faith
a cancer , feeding on the brain
bleeding
no healing
just stealing life ,
til gravity gives ground to the
illusion .


From behind the blackened door
at the gate  , be brave and wait . From the living to the dead ,
the slurred screams of endearment echo in my head .
A confession of confinement to your
death bed where you have been led into the darkness
that holds you.  For the moment far from the reach of pains
enrollment.  Memories will soon replace constraint and grow in the light
of the tunnel to free  you from the exhaustion of this lifes struggle.
You will soon know peace through deaths release.

                                                                                                                     SinisterBeast72  01 / 2015