Members Poetry and Writing

I was inspired by www.writeaprisoner.com to write an anonymous love poem:


My love shall extend

Emanating from my heart,

Through those iron bars,

and unto your arms

The evidence was meager,

for your release I am eager

You should escape...

Like in Shawshank Redemption

For you, the state should make an exception

After all, that &$%@# had it coming

For callin up on yo man's phone.

 

roses are red

violets are blue

sugar is sweet

and so am i.

 

A Song

The sweet-voiced quetzal there, ruling the earth, has intoxicated my soul.

I am like the quetzal bird, I am created in the one and only God; I sing sweet songs among the flowers; I chant songs and rejoice in my heart.

The fuming dewdrops from the flowers in the fields intoxicate my soul.

I grieve to myself that ever this dwelling on earth should end.

I foresaw, being a Mexican, that our rule began to be destroyed, I went forth weeping that it was to bow down and to be destroyed.

Let me not be angry that the grandeur of Mexico is to be destroyed.

The smoking stars gather against it: the one who cares for flowers is about to be destroyed.

He who cared for books wept, he wept for the beginning of the destruction.



Hungry Coyote

 

The Debtor's Rubayat

You win your daily bread by usery
Of commerce you have made a mockery
Interest is a noose that you can tighten
You lead your neighbor into slavery

Debt has tremendous power to frighten
In our night that the sun cannot brighten
What will we not do in desperation
It leads us to sin our load to lighten

Working men face certain devastation
Illness brings the threat of prostration
We cannot survive the loss of wages
Our goods are subject to confiscation

Your deeds are inscribed on divine pages
God shall read them at the End of Ages
You shall drink your molten gold treasurey
When souls are measured and hell's flame rages.

 

Men and women serving with honor
Army Navy Airforce and the Corp

Combat soldiers the battle of rage
Unleashing emotions locked in a cage

Humilities and sarcasams all endure
Illnesses and scars cannot cure

Hopefullness and bliss not so sure
One day at a time anything but pure

Singing a song acting a play
Moments of happiness 'Oh what a day

Hurts and anxieties will not sway
Into the future shades of gray

Poem is blue do not dismay
Every day still time to pray

Libhater

 

MisLed originals.

A Gardener's Plea by MisLed

Tell me
Please.
Why don't
Bugs eat weeds?

For the Jack-Attack, by MisLed

You got boogies??
Let me see.
Don't you put
That boogie on me.

 

Not my poem, but I always liked this...Stella was a terrified British teenager enduring the bombing of London during WWII.

'The War'

by Stella Richardson, written at age 16

The sun begins to sink in the sky,
as the evening approaches.

The sudden darkness brings the change; sirens wail.
People run for shelter. Peace is lost.

Then the waiting begins.
Life or death? Who can know?

 

The Weapon

He is the ultimate weapon,
Formed of flesh and stell
Neither part useful alone.

The desert sand abrades the steel
It jams the bolt and trigger,
At stand down clean it well.

Remove the sand and residue,
Oil it, inspect for wear,
Craddle it, protect it from harm.

The horror of war abrades the flesh,
Burdens the heart, twists the soul.
At stand doiwn, this needs care, too.

 

Every issuse strained,
nothing but pain;

child abuse, emotional scars,
empty relationships, lonely bars,

struggling inner self,
produce significant wealth,

vision of hope,
near end of a rope,

tragedies ago,
peace do not know,

enlightenment today,
now gone astray,

Nice lay today,
not quite risque,

learn to love,
then take a shove,

soak the liver,
only to shiver,

down and out,
but never pout,

despite the chagrin,
Always a grin.

 

Futility

How vast must it be that repetoire of works not kissed by the Muse?
All the babbling and maundering attempts at artful wittiness,
Erato unmoved by the heads pounding against a solid block.

 

[FONT=&quot]
If you are not here...
this world has no stars
no moon and no sea to adore
no beauty, no joy and no sweet love of life
and no sparkling dawn as before
The day now is endless
The night is dead black,
not silver-edged, scented and soft
and the light which invades me is killing and cruel
in blank eyes to a soul cold and lost.
There is no flaming heat
and no scintillant pulse
soaring over the sound of your voice
No warmth and no hope
and no risking of all
to be close to the love of my choice
Confusion is born from a tormented heart
once afire with a love yet to be
In this world it is dark and as bare as your heart
of real love. Nothing holds you to me[/FONT]

 

Bringing the Djinn to Heel
(A meditation on PTSD)

Where did it come from, this decietful djinn?
Why does it sit beisde you like Faust's black poodle?
Can't it see you are trying to write?

It offers to fetch you something from your past,
Something that will inspire your pen
Perhaps some forgotten war souvenier.

It still remembers each path you trod,
The secret stashes you left behind,
And things you didn't know you had dropped.

But some of them have a stench about them.
You buried them long ago for good reason.
Some things are best left where you need not see them.

Better you should teach it to dance for you,
Make it retell your history with a smile,
Emphasize the brighter moments.

Some day you will learn to rid youreself of it.
Soon or late, you must pronounce the charm.
Face it and say "Bism Allah, BEGONE."

 

Aaahoo !
I heard a knock on my brain
Aaahoo!
It was late and I better not tell
Aaahoo!
The kitchen was closed
And I saw a little old lady
Aaahoo !
Better not tell
Better to stay hairy handed
Aaahoo !
Saw a Werewolf ... Aaahoo!
Drinkin' a Pina Colada
And his hair was perfect.
Aaahoo !
Like to meet his Mom
To live unseen,unknown
that is the question
Aaahoo !
Better to Feel the damp
of the river fog,
The bark of a Farmer's dog
The twitter of birds,
over meadows brown.
Than the infernal ... Aaahoo!
As Mama ... came a runnin'
Aaahoo!
Oh! Susanna
Don't you Cry

 

I saw Obama with a Chineese menu in his hand
Aaahoo!
Werewolves of Washington
Ya hear Howlin' around yer kitchen door
better not let him In
Aaahoo !
no need to meet his tailor
even Lon Chaney made a face
Aaahoo !
Werewolves of Washington
Better watch out,
the big-headed Gent
Rips yer heart out
Breitbart unsent ?
Aaahooooo ...
Saw Obama walking with
Hisself ... late last night
had a pina colada in his paw
what a sight !
Aaahooo !
Ran amuck then took a flight
late last night
Aaahoo .. Werewolves of Washington

 

Glitch

The words came out of some dark place
Hobbling and arthritic as the fingers typing
Then a keystroke exiled them to a circle of black.

I wanted to share them with my friends
A few dark thoughts on common demons
Let's set them on the berm for target practice.

But the disc has swallowed them, secreted them
Taken them away beyond my recall
They passed away leaving no mark or image.

Or perhaps, I am not as ready as I thought.
Perhaps I am not so cool as I thought,
Nor so ready to look at the wreckage in the mirror.

 

I should have know you were a poet since I like your music choices.

 

I wrote and published this about ten years ago over at an automotive website I used to be affiliated with --

"RICED OUT NEON" (sung to the tune of 'Hot Rod Lincoln')

Have you heard the story of the riced-out race,
where the Nissan's and Honda's were settin' the pace?
That story is true. And I'm sad to say,
there was even a fool with a riced Hyundai!

I got a Plymouth Neon, it looks really slick.
A chameleon paint job makes it look trick!
Alteeza's and a fart-can, but that ain't all...
I got a wing on the back, four feet tall!

Pulled of my 'hood early one night,
the windshield nozzles shinin', blue and bright.
Head to the freeway, get on I-10,
drive to LA, go cruisin' again.

All of a sudden, in the blink of an eye...
an SUV passed us by!
My friends in the back said, "What the f**k?
You just got smoked by a Cadillac truck!"

They said, "Yo' man, wassup with that?
That sh*t ain't right, we thought you was phat!"
"Go catch that Caddy, and show 'em who's boss!
Or does this piece of sh*t, only run on NOS?"

I don't take that crap, not while I'm alive,
so I dropped that Neon into overdrive!
Stomped my foot, mashed the gas to the floor,
my speedometer topped out at eighty-four!

Smoke was coming outta the back,
as I started to gain on the Cadillac!
Knew I could catch 'em, and slip right past.
Neon don't need NOS, just premium gas!

Motor was whining, man what a ride!
Neon and Caddy, side by side!
I yelled "Look out Bee-yatch! Hang up your cell phone!"
And the Caddy pulled over, and left us alone!

Subwoofer in the trunk was really thumpin',
my posse in the back started jumpin'!
Looked out the back, and no one smiled...
the cops pulled us over - we've been profiled!

They arrested me, and threw me in jail.
Called my parents to post my bail.
My Pop said "Son, I'm gonna start sniffin' Freon...
if you don't stop drivin' that RICED...OUT...NEON!!

 

Frustrated Tanka

Disoriented
Poet stares into the haze
His Muse out to lunch
Quacking, woofing pointlessly
Another thought goes nowhere.

 

This is for you.

My physical eye looks outward upon a cold fog-bound landscape
My mind's eye sees a sunnier climate while my ears hear songs of distant lands
With pen and paper I build a vessel to take me to that place.

 

Behold, a heart foists in trial an error! The harder the better and the sooner the darer! Take shape as I will, not from my hand; but somewhere deep as my soul shall command, of love and fortune through waves of trials in time marked by the sublime. In the depths of my sorrow I find strength, and it is there that I borrow the will for the morrow.

Oh’ pearl nest in these carvings etched here by the hunger of my natures longing
Your beauty lists the shadows secrets giving glimpses into the light of tomorrows reaches. Rest here in this place, while I lose the days troubles, and share your beauty’s grace.

This moment is the bitter silence I must not face. So in works comfort a place for us I make. Formed perfect and true a natural wonder who’s visions appear, then give loan to my beings sight and its minds flight. Owing all to what seldom; but immortal love can right. While in sleep I fight what is cast into my life.

Love grows and both dies before my eyes. Yet I taste the tears from those lost and hear their cries. So I ask of providence kneeling, why? As I reason maybe I will find : Grief’s irritating grind helps us weather these mortal storms of earthly design. Thereby making us pearls for use by the divine.

 

roses are red, violets are blue, sugar is sweet, but not as sweet as i.

 

Thanks.

 

I used to write short stories and poems in school (By todays standards some stories would be classified "Terroristic Threats" lol)

Did this now, Bored at work.

The bell rang
Heading to class
Walking with friends
Missing the time spent
Waiting in class
Playing cards

Now grown up
I have a job
Staring at a screen
My eyes are red
Deadlines due

Missing the time I spent
Playing cards
Shooting pool

Payments due
Need money

Have a family
Lost some friends

Missing the time when I sat
waiting for the bell
waiting for school to end
waiting to leave to go shoot pool
have fun with friends

 

I read the poem of the old soldier and it got me teary eyed and thinking of family.
Reminded me of my cousin who took his life two years ago now..He would of been 27 this year.

Death comes to all
Fair
Old or younge
woman or man

Life is pain
Love is bliss
Death comes to all

Who wait for it
Who follow it
Who worship it

Death will come
To silence all
For those who happen upon it
Death is gentle

For those who call upon it
Death is thoughtful

For those who are snuck up by it
Death is violent and tormentful

My familys died
My friends have passed
Death is fair
Man or woman