Your Poem

 
Of splendid thrones of gold    
or treasures manifold    
   
Of jewelled caskets    
or lavish banquets    
   
Of Emirs and rajahs    
Of Sultan and Shahs    
   
Of kings and queens    
Of rulers and emperors    
   
Of sparkling crowns    
or flowing gowns    
   
Of their subservient stewards and obedient pages    
Of their stalwart squires and servile knaves    
   
Of poor humble, docile minions    
who tended to regal pavilions    
And obeisantly carried royal palanquins    
Oh and some were real life harlequins    
   
Of castles and palaces    
of abounding gold and silver    
in ostentatious regal splendour    
   
The sidelined fanning maids in waiting    
Yet to me only one thing worth noticing    
The minstrels who came to sing    
from afar for the queen and king    
   
For I'd rather be a poetess for kings    
so to my tunes swayed a kingdom    
than I be the king of mere subjects    
and be filled with regal boredom!    
   
So I could join ranks of    
troubadours    
and sing for the king    
some folklores.    
 
 
A passion for poesy  
For magic of literacy [/b]

Halloween has gone
And soon there'll be snow
Christmas is coming
Only a few weeks to go

The nights get darker
There's a chill in the air
The people all get busy
There's so much to prepare

Laura starts looking
For all the nice gifts
She knows that to afford them
She'll have to work the night shifts

The days go by
Soon Santa will be here
The Smith's start to worry
They're still paying off last year

Single mam Sally
Hates seeing her boys upset
She buys all the newest toys
And adds to her credit card debt

The decorations go up
Everyone gets the holiday feels
John knocks down an old woman
To get to the best Black Friday deals

Families enjoy the markets
They sing 'tis the season'
Round the corner, they don't care
There's a homeless man freezing

Old Jasper's family's all gone
They don't pick up the phone to call
He'll be lonely this Christmas
The tears start to fall

Karen lays in hospital
Her situation hopeless
Her only present this year
Is a terminal diagnosis

Tom's wife just left him
She took his kids, his house, his pride
He grabs a rope from the cupboard
This will be his last Yuletide

The festive time is full of
Fun, food and drink
But for others it's a struggle
So just stop....
And think

Spread a little joy to someone
Be it a friend, a stranger, your mother
The most important gift this Christmas
Is being kind to one another

What is it before me that I dare see?
Why must it be objectified before me as I watch?
Surely there are others whose view must match mine?
If not, then they shall not die
Nothing wrong with a good or bad point of view.
Opinions they all are at the end, even mine.
Truthful, many call me. Yet I despise the word so.
Labels placed upon me as if they dare to see I.
Opinions of oneself is the hardest to verify, for one might only see the bad inside.
Agreeing to see good for those few or many or none but I, might prove to be a task that none can pass by.
What I write is not to criticize, I truly do not mind the way other people choose to watch or write.
We all should know by now that the choice to read was never yours or mine.
To read a statement that is not a fact but opinion is a hefty toll, for who knows the writer whose bloody ink it bestowed.
Why choose to read, it is such a bore, turning your head into a word not yet known.
A word not yet known because no one has read a statement so bold.
A stated opinion agreed by all, oh my, how that amuses me so.
Not all will agree to live or to die -
To be under whatever god or goddess -
A land let it even be upon sea -
Or even a way of sight to see.
Because why not watch the T.V?
Battling others opinions over mine is so barbaric that it even gives me a fright, of how pleasant it is to go quiet within a sentence I hold onto tight.
Does a word that come out of my mouth matter one or not?
Does it matter if I keep to myself or to say it at all?
Will it benefit me in any way? or do the opposite?
Will it hurt others or heal?
To blindly speak of emotion to others is not that great.
So many things to consider of and think.
So why not keep it simple?
How else are emotions shown?
A face to show emotion today is easier to find than tomorrow.
If what I say holds on then what I say will be held on.
Actions they perform to others is what I watch for.
If pain, love, understanding, or even misunderstanding was to sprout from my own wordly doing.
Then if I said none, it would not be moving?
If no one or thing moves then nothing will function.
If one action wasn’t inspired yet, then we should be inspiring!
Chaos might be made, that’s a possible yes.
Prosperity a maybe.
Clarity is a choice
Yet movement is needed.
Be it my words or others, action will take fold.
How do you suppose those pirates got their gold?
I write and watch, simple as that, not much stops me, unless it’s already on the news.
To write many to inspire just maybe a few, is better than someone who writes none and hides it all in their view.
I watch because I to, need movement to do whatever it is that I choose to do.

I write to please  
A selfish need  
I write to relieve  
Anger, loneliness, illness  
Writing grants me release  

With ink I choose to bleed
The pain inside of me
Writing is a catharsis, indeed

It feels like I am falling
I recognize my body gently touching the sheets, I endure the cold breeze lurking through a crack in the wall.
The edges of my view keeps filling with black...nothingness  
Am I disappearing? becoming nothing, not worth remembering?  
Describing feelings is like tearing down half-finished puzzles.  
Holding on to a sharp knife pierced through my hand on the edge of tomorrow.    
My mind is filling the blanks, there is no breathing room through the unbearable aching of a young boy, now becoming a man.    
Am I finally accepted in society as a man?  
Crowded hallways screeching, jealous...They are jealous, right?    
I know nothing...  
My mind drifts further away, disturbed by the physical and mental pain.  
It feels like I am falling  
R.A.L.H.P