Pain/Sorrow

SUSPENDED IN TIME

She sits at the kitchen table coffee is now cold

wondering where her son she loves could possibly be.

He was mad, going to kick some ass. Is he that bold?

She is his mom after all, his father is an absentee.



The phone rings, she jumps as though she's been slapped

listens to the voice on the other end, nervous hands in her lap.

She can't believe what she hears, she sits suspended in time.

"Oh good lord", she screams, he has been arrested, murder the crime.



She will never hear her son walk in the back door again.

Why did he have to go out and get into all this trouble?

What was he thinking, what did he think he could attain?

Will she be able to live with all the gossip rubble?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

contest with TIM.... TITLE HIS..... and the words are mine....

View hawksquaw99's Full Portfolio

Deserted

Crying against the wall,

Rocking bare foot to bare heel,

Thinly clothed and heavily minded,

Chilling wind and tickling rain,

Blue light against black cloud,

Cold tears washing flushed cheeks,

Heart of pain and brain of confusion,

Can you lose something before you find it?

I feel like I’ve lost my reason to live.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In times of loss, you can feel like there is no reason to go on.

View obscure's Full Portfolio

Purse

Where some wisdom,

May come undone;

The chosen way,

Unchosened say.

As looks at Looks,

With undefining measure;

Calculated remittance,

Undone forever.



Yet forever defined,

Shall recognise the sorrow,

For here be the 'morrow,

To leave ever theft behind,

Then sapience shall await, remind.




Author's Notes/Comments: 

The need of artists for recognition and reward is sometimes used to their detriment by too willing entrepreneurs that readily exploit their gifts for a buck.( No reflection on this sight as Jason Bytes is himself a poet.)

View pluguan's Full Portfolio

YARD SELL OF MEMORIES

They finally made the decision to move,

had to get things organized and ready,

much to do and they were hardly in the groove,

packing, cleaning, and pricing to get ready for the sell.



As they went about their business of the day,

thoughts and memories seemed to move in.

They miss him very much, this is the only way,

to get on with life, leave the saddness behind.



They stumble upon a box long ago forgotten,

tears of sorrow where shed in silence.

Some of his military pictures, and shrits of cotton,

things that made them think of better times.



They almost have every thing ready now,

have to sell and move on with their lives.

Not sure about this, not sure just how,

this will be the hardest thing they have ever done.



The day is here, tables set with objects they have loved,

people mill around looking, buying and chatting.

The turn out is great, someone even bought the turtledove.

Everything is for sell at the yard sell of memories.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

title belongs to Tim... words belong to Renee'.... this is based on something that a dear friend is having to deal with... I love you Molly....

View hawksquaw99's Full Portfolio

NO MORE TIME FOR THAT

NO MORE TIME IN MY LIFE FOR YOUR LOVE,DEAR

I AM DONE WITH HOPES AND ALSO DONE FOR YOU,

WITH MY TEARS.

AS I WALK THIS EARTH ALONE, AND THEN LOVE

MAY BE SO LONG, AND THEN IT SEEMS, SO BRIEF.



I LIVE NO MORE FOR REGRETS, I TOSSED TO THE

WINDS YOUR HEARTLESS FEELINGS FOR ME, AND

FOR LIFE,

LIFE IS SO SHORT AND DEATH ALONE, CAN BRING

US IN THE END, THE SO CALLED PEACE.



I WANT TO KNOW NOTHING, SOMETIMES OF MAN'S LOVE,

LOVE THE SPIRIT BREAKS, AND THE FLESH ALONE IS

SO WEAK, AND UNIMPRESSED OF ANY PERFECT HUMAN

LOVE.



I AM DONE WITH HOPES OF LOVE, AND I AM DONE FOR

YOU, WITH MY TEARS,

AS I WALK SOMETIMES SO SAD, THIS LONESOME ROAD,

AND LOVE STILL IS LONG, AND THEN IT SEEMS IN ALL

ITS GREATNESS, SADLY TO ME, STILL SO BRIEF.



Ladydp2000

copyright@2000

View ladydp2000's Full Portfolio

Pressed Flowers

In a secret corner of a forgotten room

Hidden in the shadow of something dark

I've pressed in a book my favorite bloom

That once grew strong and healthy

At the edge of a sunlit park



I was reminded of my precious possession

Upon hearing a chance remark

In an old man's life confession

That he might have grown to be wealthy

But he was too frightened of the dark

View cameca8's Full Portfolio

Inside me

I had to get to my hideaway

before a coup took place

inside me.

Doornails, dirt, demons, dentists,

had formed a stratification

of hurt and humiliation

inside me.

I had fluff in my emotional bank

and the little success I had drunk,

appeared and disappeared,

together with unwarranted fear,

inside me.

Yet there was hope

that one day the churning would stop

inside me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this when I was going through a particularly rough patch in my life.

View missmfa's Full Portfolio

SONG TO THE NIGHT

SHAPES WITHOUT FORMS, SHADES WITHOUT COLORS,

THE ALWAYS RISING OF THE NIGHT,

WHERE ANGELS AND DEVILS COME TO LAUGH AND PLAY

IN A RECOIL OF FANCY WHIMS AND RAINBOW MISTS.



AND TO MAKE AN END IS TO HAD MADE A START,

UNDER THE TWINKLE OF A FALLING STAR,

AND ANGELS HEARD YOU AND STRAIGH APPEARED

WAITING FOR YOU WITH  OPEN DOORS.



THE WORLD IS  LIFE ENDURED, AND LIVED BY ALL

HARDLY HANGING THERE, ACROSS THE BLUE SKY,

FOR ANOTHER DREAM THAT GOES, INTO POSSESSION

OF ANOTHER MIND.



FROM ALL THAT WE ARE  TO REMEMBER, THE SOUL

DESCENDS AGAIN AND AGAIN INTO BITTER LOVE,

WITH EYES THAT I NEVER DARE TO MEET NOT EVEN

IN DREAMS.



LET LOVERS AND LOVE GO FRESH  AND SWEET,

TO RUN THEIR COURSE UNDONE,

WHERE ALL THE ANGELS AND DEVILS COME TO

PLAY, IN YOUR OWN MIND



AND UNDER THE SKY STUDDED WITH BURSTING

STARS AND SILENT VIOLINS,  AND LOVE FLYING

WITH UNCONFINED WILD WINGS.



AND WHAT WE CALL THE BEGINNING IS SOMETIMES

THE END,

AS THE SHADOWS OF THE NIGHTS COME AROUND,

LOVE IS JUST LIKE A BED OF SWEET DREAMS,



TO RECONCILE THE CRUEL REALITY OF LIFE  AND

DEATH.





LADYDP2000

copyright@2000






View ladydp2000's Full Portfolio

THE NIGHT IS RIDING ALONG

The night is running is riding along and

Strings of pearls is your sweet and alusive,

Smile,

Smothing in their way, so soft,

Some of the sad wrinkles of my worn-out soul.



And you whole world opens up, so inocent and

Shy before me,

And your ample white wings, covered me again

Protective over and under your warm and sweet,

Breath.



Spilling sultry all around me again your perfumed

Essence,

And time recoils, from your dried and deceiful lips

From forgotten kisses, and bygone lovers.





Ladydp2000

copyright@2000


View ladydp2000's Full Portfolio