Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd August 2012 8:26pm
WINNER
Albylynch
Albylynch
RUNNER-UP:
Kou_Indigo
this should be easy
in effort to escape shuts my eyes
flickering lights tries to whirl them wide
covering my ears from clamorous turmoil
in loud awakening the fugue world landslides
to take in nothing in hunger, gnarling gut
through mine secretion, luscious what has past
holds breath for having surround in putrid lies
my own foul presence rushes above temple top
in chasm of all, feeling my soul like mimosa
touched by the slightest kiss of zephyr
somethings' abysmal
flickering lights tries to whirl them wide
covering my ears from clamorous turmoil
in loud awakening the fugue world landslides
to take in nothing in hunger, gnarling gut
through mine secretion, luscious what has past
holds breath for having surround in putrid lies
my own foul presence rushes above temple top
in chasm of all, feeling my soul like mimosa
touched by the slightest kiss of zephyr
somethings' abysmal
the state of soul
perception of whole
assimilation
change
as stars can sparkle
when love occurs
or stars can gloom
alone in distant
amid forlorn shade
like equal tune sounds
on different instrument
mirthful voila
melancholic cello
in g major
the deaths of a thousand
or your love
you choose
the sun over stars
for oblivion may
you reject to dwell
beautifully bias
love~~~
perception of whole
assimilation
change
as stars can sparkle
when love occurs
or stars can gloom
alone in distant
amid forlorn shade
like equal tune sounds
on different instrument
mirthful voila
melancholic cello
in g major
the deaths of a thousand
or your love
you choose
the sun over stars
for oblivion may
you reject to dwell
beautifully bias
love~~~
- Visionary Circle -
Based on a dream I had on Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Just last eve I fell in weary slumber, silently.
And from the realm of dreams my soul fled,
Journeying into the realms of the visionary…
Where the world of the living meets the dead.
There, my soul took the form of a little girl…
And I wandered in green fields, feeling free!
The clouds above were white as palest pearl,
And the sky was the bluest anyone could see.
At my side was the sister I never had in life…
Who walked with me across a true paradise!
Together we were complete, free from strife,
But this was not Heaven, and I was not wise.
To a town we came, which was all in ruins…
Though inhabited by people who lived there.
It sprawled on the side of marshes and fens,
Of which I had a mind to carefully beware…
And so we ventured to a small tavern house.
Therein we sipped pomegranate juice red…
Redder than the color of my peasant blouse!
So red, that it so seemed the juice had bled.
My sister hugged me and then we changed:
I became a teenage girl, instead of a child…
As my sister, the child she was so remained.
I was older, but still my heart was very mild!
An evil-seeming man watched us as we sat,
Dark glasses obscuring his eyes that gazed…
He was old and listened well as we did chat.
His manner was vile, and he seemed dazed!
I told my sister we needed to leave at once,
And so we departed, fleeing the ruined town.
We ran back across the fields, faster thence,
Than we had walked without even a frown…
When we knew not that evil people existed.
And soon we came to a grassy hilltop stark,
Atop which a circle of ruins ever persisted…
Waiting like a watcher, for one to thus hark!
As we approached the circle of old stones…
My sister vanished and I knew a true terror.
For within that circle, I spied piles of bones,
And I knew the completeness of our error…
For on a throne of silvery rock was a being.
Human he seemed, and in form as an angel,
Beautiful and elfin, his eyes all things seeing!
He sang to me, and his song was like a bell.
Release my sister and let me go from here…
This I said to him, my voice ringing so loud!
And in my voice, I did not betray my fear…
For I faced a demon, and one fallen proud.
He then sang these words unto me, humble:
“I have not the power to keep her from you.
She waits for you, where thunders rumble…
Where the skies are eternal, and ever blue!
I have not the power to keep you prisoner.
Go forth from this place that is my domain,
And soar high, beholding your true sister…
Whose power it is to ease a person’s pain.”
And then I was lifted up into the heavens…
The hilltop seeming small and the sky large!
I heard my sister singing, with joy as stems,
From a heart given to it, some holy charge.
She was now an adult woman, as was I…
We wore gowns of purest white, gleaming.
Sibling spirits dancing across an azure sky!
This vision awaited me beyond dreaming…
We sang and danced smiling with such joy,
That I felt enchanted by the power of song.
But the skies grew dark, like the mad toy…
Of some hand seeking to do peace wrong.
My sister’s song was shrieking; mine also!
And all around us were wraithlike ghosts…
Carried so, wherever the wind might blow.
Though we would not become their hosts!
We clasped hands and were children again.
The circle was complete, our souls reborn…
Playing on green fields, knowing not of sin.
Whilst the sun beckoned the coming morn!
I heard doves and felt a sense of true ease.
Though the terrible spirits I had just beheld,
Haunted me within, for inner demons tease.
I dismissed them for now, and then I knelt,
Before she whose joy had saved my soul…
From becoming lost with the howling wind.
Her laughter was clearer than a bell’s toll…
And on that note did my dream at last end.
Based on a dream I had on Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Just last eve I fell in weary slumber, silently.
And from the realm of dreams my soul fled,
Journeying into the realms of the visionary…
Where the world of the living meets the dead.
There, my soul took the form of a little girl…
And I wandered in green fields, feeling free!
The clouds above were white as palest pearl,
And the sky was the bluest anyone could see.
At my side was the sister I never had in life…
Who walked with me across a true paradise!
Together we were complete, free from strife,
But this was not Heaven, and I was not wise.
To a town we came, which was all in ruins…
Though inhabited by people who lived there.
It sprawled on the side of marshes and fens,
Of which I had a mind to carefully beware…
And so we ventured to a small tavern house.
Therein we sipped pomegranate juice red…
Redder than the color of my peasant blouse!
So red, that it so seemed the juice had bled.
My sister hugged me and then we changed:
I became a teenage girl, instead of a child…
As my sister, the child she was so remained.
I was older, but still my heart was very mild!
An evil-seeming man watched us as we sat,
Dark glasses obscuring his eyes that gazed…
He was old and listened well as we did chat.
His manner was vile, and he seemed dazed!
I told my sister we needed to leave at once,
And so we departed, fleeing the ruined town.
We ran back across the fields, faster thence,
Than we had walked without even a frown…
When we knew not that evil people existed.
And soon we came to a grassy hilltop stark,
Atop which a circle of ruins ever persisted…
Waiting like a watcher, for one to thus hark!
As we approached the circle of old stones…
My sister vanished and I knew a true terror.
For within that circle, I spied piles of bones,
And I knew the completeness of our error…
For on a throne of silvery rock was a being.
Human he seemed, and in form as an angel,
Beautiful and elfin, his eyes all things seeing!
He sang to me, and his song was like a bell.
Release my sister and let me go from here…
This I said to him, my voice ringing so loud!
And in my voice, I did not betray my fear…
For I faced a demon, and one fallen proud.
He then sang these words unto me, humble:
“I have not the power to keep her from you.
She waits for you, where thunders rumble…
Where the skies are eternal, and ever blue!
I have not the power to keep you prisoner.
Go forth from this place that is my domain,
And soar high, beholding your true sister…
Whose power it is to ease a person’s pain.”
And then I was lifted up into the heavens…
The hilltop seeming small and the sky large!
I heard my sister singing, with joy as stems,
From a heart given to it, some holy charge.
She was now an adult woman, as was I…
We wore gowns of purest white, gleaming.
Sibling spirits dancing across an azure sky!
This vision awaited me beyond dreaming…
We sang and danced smiling with such joy,
That I felt enchanted by the power of song.
But the skies grew dark, like the mad toy…
Of some hand seeking to do peace wrong.
My sister’s song was shrieking; mine also!
And all around us were wraithlike ghosts…
Carried so, wherever the wind might blow.
Though we would not become their hosts!
We clasped hands and were children again.
The circle was complete, our souls reborn…
Playing on green fields, knowing not of sin.
Whilst the sun beckoned the coming morn!
I heard doves and felt a sense of true ease.
Though the terrible spirits I had just beheld,
Haunted me within, for inner demons tease.
I dismissed them for now, and then I knelt,
Before she whose joy had saved my soul…
From becoming lost with the howling wind.
Her laughter was clearer than a bell’s toll…
And on that note did my dream at last end.
somelikeithot said:LIFE IS AN EQUATION
i love this!
nice work there, Kitty. [:
here's mine:
"Lest we remember"
i wouldn't kiss him
even though his hands feigned
they were acquainted with my waist
after his boring lesson
on the only three constellations i can find
even though
we left the crowd to smoke alone
and he slung
bad lines
over the old whiskey barrel next to me
easing in again
like i would stop talking
to notice
it was sealed even before
[in my conical periphery]
he huffed perfectly
gave walls the look that means
i am
definitely
winning
because despite the show of foolhardy confidence
he didn't have a thread
from your cursably charming drawstring
that often
slims my features into
an awfully plausible
"fuck you"
not a speck
of the sparkle of chase in your knowing
and here
is where i would mention
he has nothing on your lips
your hard arms
or how they remind me
what freedom and honesty
are supposed to be
but another cliche
would be nigh unbearable
there is a flock of reasons
i suppose
that i wouldn't kiss him
but all these limp moments could think to taunt
was the fact
he wasn't you
i love this!
nice work there, Kitty. [:
here's mine:
"Lest we remember"
i wouldn't kiss him
even though his hands feigned
they were acquainted with my waist
after his boring lesson
on the only three constellations i can find
even though
we left the crowd to smoke alone
and he slung
bad lines
over the old whiskey barrel next to me
easing in again
like i would stop talking
to notice
it was sealed even before
[in my conical periphery]
he huffed perfectly
gave walls the look that means
i am
definitely
winning
because despite the show of foolhardy confidence
he didn't have a thread
from your cursably charming drawstring
that often
slims my features into
an awfully plausible
"fuck you"
not a speck
of the sparkle of chase in your knowing
and here
is where i would mention
he has nothing on your lips
your hard arms
or how they remind me
what freedom and honesty
are supposed to be
but another cliche
would be nigh unbearable
there is a flock of reasons
i suppose
that i wouldn't kiss him
but all these limp moments could think to taunt
was the fact
he wasn't you
Tired of bullshitting you into thinking I have something to say
when really, I only have a floating feeling that hovers
around my head like an aura, and all i want is to get it down
with a semblance of class or flair.
I choose words by feel and they seem to either stick
or roll the way oil paint beads off of latex, but
no, I don't really have anything to convey in a new
or interesting format. Ideas are bleary and never
want to take shape; so, ambiguously, i present them
to you
in a rhythm... you get it or you don't,
but you make it.
Not me.
when really, I only have a floating feeling that hovers
around my head like an aura, and all i want is to get it down
with a semblance of class or flair.
I choose words by feel and they seem to either stick
or roll the way oil paint beads off of latex, but
no, I don't really have anything to convey in a new
or interesting format. Ideas are bleary and never
want to take shape; so, ambiguously, i present them
to you
in a rhythm... you get it or you don't,
but you make it.
Not me.
- Sacred Fire -
I stand, within a wooded grove, by an ancient shrine,
A necklace of green jade around my neck, so cool…
Unlike the heat of the day, when the sun did so shine!
I come to commune with the spirits there, like a fool,
But one with a cunning and serenity that is most wise.
I spread my arms and feel the sacred fire emerging…
So beautiful, more so than any sorcery I could devise!
The rosy hue of the light of my own spirit does sing…
As the white of my garments, is bathed in a radiance,
Which is so perfect, so pure, that I find myself smiling.
Behind me, so very dark has become the great fence,
As the sky itself turns white, with a force so beguiling!
The blue retreats, and the winds begin to build above,
Called by my heart, so filled with its’ longing and love.
I feel all the winds in the long raven tresses of my hair,
For but one instant, and then all is still as is the grave…
My eyes are closed, and yet I see where angels dare.
So much beauty I behold in gifts that only gods gave…
Gifts of sight, empathy, and feeling none can imagine,
Save those touched by some divine grandeur’s hand!
The rosy glow fades and yet I still feel it pulse within,
Knowing, it shall never fade with time’s fleeting sand.
Can you see in my face, the beauty that I have seen?
I hope that you can, for therein is such a pristine joy!
To cover my sorrows, with a brightly shining sheen…
Like the armor that was worn: by the noble Samurai.
Had I not worn something similar in the olden times?
The past so clear to me sometimes, like wind chimes.
The earth beneath my sandaled feet is strongly silent,
Holding its’ secrets fast, yet giving forth its’ bounty…
When the seasons are right and the rain is gently sent.
Just as we are all sent, upon the paths of our destiny.
I sense the rightness in the universe, and thusly I sigh,
And I understand, why pilgrims come to pray here…
For there is magic in this shrine, which I cannot deny.
Was it such an enchantment that drew me unto here?
Mayhap, for places have a spirit too, and they call…
Seeking souls, like mine, who hear its’ hidden music.
The white sky becomes blue again, free of pale pall!
I hear a sparrow’s song, as it soars above: so quick.
When I left the shrine that day I felt a kind of peace,
Long after what magic I worked there did so cease!
I stand, within a wooded grove, by an ancient shrine,
A necklace of green jade around my neck, so cool…
Unlike the heat of the day, when the sun did so shine!
I come to commune with the spirits there, like a fool,
But one with a cunning and serenity that is most wise.
I spread my arms and feel the sacred fire emerging…
So beautiful, more so than any sorcery I could devise!
The rosy hue of the light of my own spirit does sing…
As the white of my garments, is bathed in a radiance,
Which is so perfect, so pure, that I find myself smiling.
Behind me, so very dark has become the great fence,
As the sky itself turns white, with a force so beguiling!
The blue retreats, and the winds begin to build above,
Called by my heart, so filled with its’ longing and love.
I feel all the winds in the long raven tresses of my hair,
For but one instant, and then all is still as is the grave…
My eyes are closed, and yet I see where angels dare.
So much beauty I behold in gifts that only gods gave…
Gifts of sight, empathy, and feeling none can imagine,
Save those touched by some divine grandeur’s hand!
The rosy glow fades and yet I still feel it pulse within,
Knowing, it shall never fade with time’s fleeting sand.
Can you see in my face, the beauty that I have seen?
I hope that you can, for therein is such a pristine joy!
To cover my sorrows, with a brightly shining sheen…
Like the armor that was worn: by the noble Samurai.
Had I not worn something similar in the olden times?
The past so clear to me sometimes, like wind chimes.
The earth beneath my sandaled feet is strongly silent,
Holding its’ secrets fast, yet giving forth its’ bounty…
When the seasons are right and the rain is gently sent.
Just as we are all sent, upon the paths of our destiny.
I sense the rightness in the universe, and thusly I sigh,
And I understand, why pilgrims come to pray here…
For there is magic in this shrine, which I cannot deny.
Was it such an enchantment that drew me unto here?
Mayhap, for places have a spirit too, and they call…
Seeking souls, like mine, who hear its’ hidden music.
The white sky becomes blue again, free of pale pall!
I hear a sparrow’s song, as it soars above: so quick.
When I left the shrine that day I felt a kind of peace,
Long after what magic I worked there did so cease!
Irony-
You talk of misfortunes,
When you've only lost worldly possessions.
-
You talk of anger,
When you spill your Earl Grey tea
-
You talk of despair,
when you cant afford something pretty.
-
You talk of the lies,
When you have yet to be deceived.
-
You talk of revenge,
when you have not yet tasted its wrath.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will redeem your lost crown,'
And give you my blood.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will pour your tea again,'
And bite back my Demon
-
'Yes my lord,
I can obliterate my kin for your pretty thing.'
And mourn for there lives.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can find the verity'
And accept the torment that guards it.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can protect your life.'
And take the chagrin of your foes.
-
I can bleed out my life,
To recover your crown.'
Wile taking your misfortune.
...And spend it on souls...
-
I can horde my power
To preserve your life
Wile taking your anger
...And using it to feed...
-
I can sacrifice my own
To make you happy.
Wile taking your despair,
...And absorbing the fallen...
-
I can take the cruelty
To bring your innocence.
Wile taking the lies,
...And use it to manipulate...
-
I can withhold the beating
To vanquish your fear.
Wile taking revenge
...And use it to bring devastation.
-
I shall have built upon my misfortune
I shall have built upon my anger,
I shall have built upon my despair,
I shall have built upon the lies,
I shall have built upon my revenge...
-
You see, master
I am not noble,
I am not a friend,
I am not a relief,
I do not speak in truth,
I do not aid...
-
You see, master
I am you.
(note: if you have problems deciphering it..pm me)
You talk of misfortunes,
When you've only lost worldly possessions.
-
You talk of anger,
When you spill your Earl Grey tea
-
You talk of despair,
when you cant afford something pretty.
-
You talk of the lies,
When you have yet to be deceived.
-
You talk of revenge,
when you have not yet tasted its wrath.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will redeem your lost crown,'
And give you my blood.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will pour your tea again,'
And bite back my Demon
-
'Yes my lord,
I can obliterate my kin for your pretty thing.'
And mourn for there lives.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can find the verity'
And accept the torment that guards it.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can protect your life.'
And take the chagrin of your foes.
-
I can bleed out my life,
To recover your crown.'
Wile taking your misfortune.
...And spend it on souls...
-
I can horde my power
To preserve your life
Wile taking your anger
...And using it to feed...
-
I can sacrifice my own
To make you happy.
Wile taking your despair,
...And absorbing the fallen...
-
I can take the cruelty
To bring your innocence.
Wile taking the lies,
...And use it to manipulate...
-
I can withhold the beating
To vanquish your fear.
Wile taking revenge
...And use it to bring devastation.
-
I shall have built upon my misfortune
I shall have built upon my anger,
I shall have built upon my despair,
I shall have built upon the lies,
I shall have built upon my revenge...
-
You see, master
I am not noble,
I am not a friend,
I am not a relief,
I do not speak in truth,
I do not aid...
-
You see, master
I am you.
(note: if you have problems deciphering it..pm me)
bloody_ashe said:
Irony-
You talk of misfortunes,
When you've only lost worldly possessions.
-
You talk of anger,
When you spill your Earl Grey tea
-
You talk of despair,
when you cant afford something pretty.
-
You talk of the lies,
When you have yet to be deceived.
-
You talk of revenge,
when you have not yet tasted its wrath.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will redeem your lost crown,'
And give you my blood.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will pour your tea again,'
And bite back my Demon
-
'Yes my lord,
I can obliterate my kin for your pretty thing.'
And mourn for there lives.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can find the verity'
And accept the torment that guards it.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can protect your life.'
And take the chagrin of your foes.
-
I can bleed out my life,
To recover your crown.'
Wile taking your misfortune.
...And spend it on souls...
-
I can horde my power
To preserve your life
Wile taking your anger
...And using it to feed...
-
I can sacrifice my own
To make you happy.
Wile taking your despair,
...And absorbing the fallen...
-
I can take the cruelty
To bring your innocence.
Wile taking the lies,
...And use it to manipulate...
-
I can withhold the beating
To vanquish your fear.
Wile taking revenge
...And use it to bring devastation.
-
I shall have built upon my misfortune
I shall have built upon my anger,
I shall have built upon my despair,
I shall have built upon the lies,
I shall have built upon my revenge...
-
You see, master
I am not noble,
I am not a friend,
I am not a relief,
I do not speak in truth,
I do not aid...
-
You see, master
I am you.
(note: if you have problems deciphering it..pm me)
I love it! Especially the truly ironic twist at the end which comes on the reader like a classic mind-frak. That is skillful writing, masterfully put together! One of the best poems to do with irony that I have ever read on this site.
Irony-
You talk of misfortunes,
When you've only lost worldly possessions.
-
You talk of anger,
When you spill your Earl Grey tea
-
You talk of despair,
when you cant afford something pretty.
-
You talk of the lies,
When you have yet to be deceived.
-
You talk of revenge,
when you have not yet tasted its wrath.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will redeem your lost crown,'
And give you my blood.
-
'Yes my lord,
I will pour your tea again,'
And bite back my Demon
-
'Yes my lord,
I can obliterate my kin for your pretty thing.'
And mourn for there lives.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can find the verity'
And accept the torment that guards it.
-
'Yes my lord,
I can protect your life.'
And take the chagrin of your foes.
-
I can bleed out my life,
To recover your crown.'
Wile taking your misfortune.
...And spend it on souls...
-
I can horde my power
To preserve your life
Wile taking your anger
...And using it to feed...
-
I can sacrifice my own
To make you happy.
Wile taking your despair,
...And absorbing the fallen...
-
I can take the cruelty
To bring your innocence.
Wile taking the lies,
...And use it to manipulate...
-
I can withhold the beating
To vanquish your fear.
Wile taking revenge
...And use it to bring devastation.
-
I shall have built upon my misfortune
I shall have built upon my anger,
I shall have built upon my despair,
I shall have built upon the lies,
I shall have built upon my revenge...
-
You see, master
I am not noble,
I am not a friend,
I am not a relief,
I do not speak in truth,
I do not aid...
-
You see, master
I am you.
(note: if you have problems deciphering it..pm me)
I love it! Especially the truly ironic twist at the end which comes on the reader like a classic mind-frak. That is skillful writing, masterfully put together! One of the best poems to do with irony that I have ever read on this site.
[size=1]Jesta, that's a mighty poem you entered fair play to you.[/size]
Random musings
There's a tramp falling around outside in the rain.
Splashing about in the dirty puddles
quoting Chicken Little.
"now hear this!"
he shouted in through the window
"The sky is falling down"
Of course
It was more of a shriek than coherent speak
more amusing to the ear
than anything near a stark warning.
come the morning there'd be a sky in one form or another.
all that remains to bee seen
is how much more rain one grey cloud
can offer to the world.
I'd turn on the radio
but the music doesn't reach me the way it did
it's all just noise and drumbeats
and there's already enough noise
coming through the window from the tramp
that thinks he's Chicken little
so I sit and turn on the tv
there's a scantly dressed lady trying to convince me
that I need to rush out and buy black dye
to cover the silver threads
clearly visible among the dark strands
fuck you lady!
I happen to like silver threads
and every other abnormality that you people on the tv
keep trying to convince me I need to go and fix.
Random musings
There's a tramp falling around outside in the rain.
Splashing about in the dirty puddles
quoting Chicken Little.
"now hear this!"
he shouted in through the window
"The sky is falling down"
Of course
It was more of a shriek than coherent speak
more amusing to the ear
than anything near a stark warning.
come the morning there'd be a sky in one form or another.
all that remains to bee seen
is how much more rain one grey cloud
can offer to the world.
I'd turn on the radio
but the music doesn't reach me the way it did
it's all just noise and drumbeats
and there's already enough noise
coming through the window from the tramp
that thinks he's Chicken little
so I sit and turn on the tv
there's a scantly dressed lady trying to convince me
that I need to rush out and buy black dye
to cover the silver threads
clearly visible among the dark strands
fuck you lady!
I happen to like silver threads
and every other abnormality that you people on the tv
keep trying to convince me I need to go and fix.
The Mind Fuck!
Have you ever had your mind fucked?
Your feelings abused, lied to or misused?
Ever been told just about
anything you wanted to hear,
just so that you could spill
your innermost thoughts and fears?
What about confessing to things
that you would never say,
or fantasies that got used
against you in some way?
This one is the absolute all time best;
how about getting coerced into cybersex?
A real good stimulatingly abusive mind fuck,
is when someone has your thoughts running amok.
Not to be confused with making love in your mind,
it is not the same thing;
mind fucking is not sexy or kind.
You know it is unfortunate that
you decided to mind fuck me,
because while you may be good,
it is not your specialty.
Payback is bitch, and revenge
is a motherfucker,
I am more than just a
faceless name behind a monitor.
You see, behind the name there is a face,
a heart and mind, much more than you
bargained for, at the time.
For everyone, the time comes
for the bell to toll, and people like you
pay dearly, through the nose.
Your callousness, truly, has no bounds,
trolling the internet for
unknowing players to expound,
Saying anything to make your way inside,
then go to work on the
emotions as well as the mind.
You are a chameleon, for every new challenge
the personage you embody is always different.
One minute you are kind, sweet and tender,
or intelligent, booksmart and gentile,
the real you is a sadist, mental manipulator,
pretender a sexual sociopath,
an anonymous egomaniac.
The internet offers you exclusive inscrutability,
your ambiguous behavior
and amoral compass,
creates a superior persuader
proven by the trophies you amass.
Here is some food for thought, have a taste;
Why is it that you have to shop the internet for victims to play?
Could it be that you lack something
in your life, on a day to day
some “shortcomings” to speak of,
lack of social graces, a boor usually does?
Gullibility is not a license for you to do as you please,
naïveté is not an invite to coerce and tease
or play on obscure emotions and/or latent needs.
If the things you do on the internet must remain in secrecy,
then the deeds you enjoy and lies you tell, should not be.
If you cannot discuss your cyber entertainment in polite company,
then your deviant behavior is, an aberration to say the least.
Can you converse at your church about all your cyber interests?
I think not, because your peers my judge you a bit harsh.
They would be shocked; the elusion of you would fade away
and the reality of who you are, would become a forefront display.
What you do unto others directly reflects who you try to suppress.
The moral of this litany is: remember there is
a real person behind the name,
loneliness is not an invitation for you to take advantage,
or a perfect opportunity for you to play games.
There is universal law retold from age to age;
what goes around comes around,
the wrong you do, always comes back to you…
We have sisters and brothers, sons and daughters,
mothers and fathers; would you like someone
to take advantage of them, as to others you tend to do?
Gypsy Red
Anonymous
"Bon Voyage to the College Kids"
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/65014.jpg
My friend Ron was really
bummed the other day,
his only son called him
stupid, super dumb!
Ron wasn't mad,
just, a bit sad,
he felt letdown, and,
wore a serious frown.
Wanting to cheer him up quick,
in my usual way, playing Cupid
and the clown, said,
"Our generation flew to the moon,
his gave us Twitter!"
He pondered for a second,
flashed a wry smile, quietly
turned away holding his head high,
and waved bye bye to his son who was
heading back to college, or rather,
an institution of higher education.
http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/images/uploads/poemimages/65014.jpg
My friend Ron was really
bummed the other day,
his only son called him
stupid, super dumb!
Ron wasn't mad,
just, a bit sad,
he felt letdown, and,
wore a serious frown.
Wanting to cheer him up quick,
in my usual way, playing Cupid
and the clown, said,
"Our generation flew to the moon,
his gave us Twitter!"
He pondered for a second,
flashed a wry smile, quietly
turned away holding his head high,
and waved bye bye to his son who was
heading back to college, or rather,
an institution of higher education.
Never To Have Loved At All
he who said,“'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”
never lost you
I never thought I would already know someone
lying on the gravel, distraught
under the limestone
yet, there you were
with all familiarity
eager to help me climb, like last time
you taught me how it feels to be loved
selflessly; each of your kisses
glued my poisoned mosaic heart
every word you spoke
doctored my fractured archaic soul
you dangled hope in front of me
like a ball of string, teasing me to grab hold
then snatched it away
you stripped yourself from my life
leaving me with a knotted web of treasures
that flow from the faucet of my memory
now I wonder, if we really ever existed
he who said,“'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all”
never lost you
I never thought I would already know someone
lying on the gravel, distraught
under the limestone
yet, there you were
with all familiarity
eager to help me climb, like last time
you taught me how it feels to be loved
selflessly; each of your kisses
glued my poisoned mosaic heart
every word you spoke
doctored my fractured archaic soul
you dangled hope in front of me
like a ball of string, teasing me to grab hold
then snatched it away
you stripped yourself from my life
leaving me with a knotted web of treasures
that flow from the faucet of my memory
now I wonder, if we really ever existed
Stiletto's
her silver strappy stiletto's are her favorite
though they remind her of him
and how they sauntered the city sidewalks
with basket woven fingers and the stroke of his thumb
the cadence echos softly with every stride
as she still hears the rhythm of their laughter
memories of his arm cloaked across her shoulders
like a morning fog claiming the land before dawn
she slides the sandals off her arches
never forgetting the tides inside her core
when he explored her skin with his lips
and kissed each leg, as he removed her heels
she flawlessly wears her treasured stories
years will change the importance of them
fading and broken straps will alter their integrity
but never will she throw away her memories of him
her silver strappy stiletto's are her favorite
though they remind her of him
and how they sauntered the city sidewalks
with basket woven fingers and the stroke of his thumb
the cadence echos softly with every stride
as she still hears the rhythm of their laughter
memories of his arm cloaked across her shoulders
like a morning fog claiming the land before dawn
she slides the sandals off her arches
never forgetting the tides inside her core
when he explored her skin with his lips
and kissed each leg, as he removed her heels
she flawlessly wears her treasured stories
years will change the importance of them
fading and broken straps will alter their integrity
but never will she throw away her memories of him
