Submissions by tmra69
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I am an amateur poet. Fairy tale themes and the err of judgmental views are my poem's focus. Emotions and words are very powerful. Together they create a written work of art beyond carnal beauty. It's poetry. :)
SELF POEM
Published
24th Mar 2017 6:10am
24th Mar 2017 6:10am
FEAR
ONE of these days
I won’t fear.
I won’t fear the night,
or its terrors of fright
that cut deep and bite,
so deeply it pries.
It pries in my mind
and loosens the ties
that keep a tight bind
on the memories inside.
And I can’t let them find
freedom to climb
and choke out my mind,
like a wild growing vine
that around my heart winds.
But there will come a time
that my fears will die.
Yes one of these days
I won’t fear.
One day…
And I won’t be held down
by the fears I have found
in the...
I won’t fear.
I won’t fear the night,
or its terrors of fright
that cut deep and bite,
so deeply it pries.
It pries in my mind
and loosens the ties
that keep a tight bind
on the memories inside.
And I can’t let them find
freedom to climb
and choke out my mind,
like a wild growing vine
that around my heart winds.
But there will come a time
that my fears will die.
Yes one of these days
I won’t fear.
One day…
And I won’t be held down
by the fears I have found
in the...
871 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Mar 2017 3:39am
13th Mar 2017 3:39am
No More Time For Rhymes
I don’t always know, exactly how to feel,
when doubts come alive and
suddenly seem real.
Confusion and anger will always pull me down
when a hint of your passion, for me can not be found.
I’ve tried to be patient and hoped that in time,
you would look at me again, and feel desire rise.
When I kiss your neck so softly, or rub your tired back…
Don’t you feel anything? What is it that I lack?
I want to believe you, when you say “nothings wrong”.
But doubts are creeping in, singing troubled songs.
Your actions and your words,...
when doubts come alive and
suddenly seem real.
Confusion and anger will always pull me down
when a hint of your passion, for me can not be found.
I’ve tried to be patient and hoped that in time,
you would look at me again, and feel desire rise.
When I kiss your neck so softly, or rub your tired back…
Don’t you feel anything? What is it that I lack?
I want to believe you, when you say “nothings wrong”.
But doubts are creeping in, singing troubled songs.
Your actions and your words,...
862 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2017 9:21pm
22nd Jan 2017 9:21pm
The Trip
On this trip that I travel,
since the Fall of '69...
makes me wonder for its purpose,
as the years go quickly by.
Childhood steps..
seemed slow to start.
Grief, fear, and tears,
would leave a permanent scar.
Blood on the road,
screams that cut deep...
A little boys tragic memories,
of what it sounds like to bleed.
The crippling legs,
this boys father would take
seemed nothing compared,
to how his heart would break.
As he watched in horror,
his family had to fight.
And now they...
since the Fall of '69...
makes me wonder for its purpose,
as the years go quickly by.
Childhood steps..
seemed slow to start.
Grief, fear, and tears,
would leave a permanent scar.
Blood on the road,
screams that cut deep...
A little boys tragic memories,
of what it sounds like to bleed.
The crippling legs,
this boys father would take
seemed nothing compared,
to how his heart would break.
As he watched in horror,
his family had to fight.
And now they...
648 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Jan 2017 9:09pm
22nd Jan 2017 9:09pm
The Gift
There’s a little girl crying
in pain and how she groans,
from the cancer inside her.
And time marches on.
There’s young man crying
on the school bus alone.
He’s bullied and broken.
Time marches on.
There’s a business man crying.
Something deep dark within,
is wrapped in confusion
of why he never fit in.
There’s a drunken whore crying.
Tears and vomit hide her face,
as the mans dirty fist
throws ten dollars in her face.
An old man is crying,
as he paces through his home,
neglected...
in pain and how she groans,
from the cancer inside her.
And time marches on.
There’s young man crying
on the school bus alone.
He’s bullied and broken.
Time marches on.
There’s a business man crying.
Something deep dark within,
is wrapped in confusion
of why he never fit in.
There’s a drunken whore crying.
Tears and vomit hide her face,
as the mans dirty fist
throws ten dollars in her face.
An old man is crying,
as he paces through his home,
neglected...
657 reads
4 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
18th Jan 2017 5:47pm
18th Jan 2017 5:47pm
Justice
Justice…
One of these days
I’ll find justice.
Justice will prevail
upon the spineless snail,
that leaves an evil trail
of his religious spells.
But there will be justice!
Sounds of the church bells
Drown out cries for help.
The Reverend unbuckles his belt.
His evil scum is exhaled.
Humiliation is inhaled
at the dirty alter where I knelt.
Thunderous waves are felt
as my dying spirit, in pain, wails.
But a day of reckoning will be held!
I will be there with my rusty nails!
And...
One of these days
I’ll find justice.
Justice will prevail
upon the spineless snail,
that leaves an evil trail
of his religious spells.
But there will be justice!
Sounds of the church bells
Drown out cries for help.
The Reverend unbuckles his belt.
His evil scum is exhaled.
Humiliation is inhaled
at the dirty alter where I knelt.
Thunderous waves are felt
as my dying spirit, in pain, wails.
But a day of reckoning will be held!
I will be there with my rusty nails!
And...
745 reads
7 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
17th Jan 2017 7:28am
17th Jan 2017 7:28am
Faces
Everyday I see faces.
I see faces everyday.
I see busy, lonely faces…
I see the traces on their faces
of places they have been,
and of the rat race they fell in.
It’s a race they try to win.
In their cages, how they spin,
over and over again.
They don’t have time for friends.
Christmas came and went.
No presents or cards sent.
I see their faces.
I see angry faces…
Misplaced, disgraced, or replaced
by the dreams they chase.
Justice they crave.
Angry sharp blades are readily raised.
They have endured great pain...
I see faces everyday.
I see busy, lonely faces…
I see the traces on their faces
of places they have been,
and of the rat race they fell in.
It’s a race they try to win.
In their cages, how they spin,
over and over again.
They don’t have time for friends.
Christmas came and went.
No presents or cards sent.
I see their faces.
I see angry faces…
Misplaced, disgraced, or replaced
by the dreams they chase.
Justice they crave.
Angry sharp blades are readily raised.
They have endured great pain...
726 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
16th Jan 2017 6:23am
16th Jan 2017 6:23am
Mirror Me
Mirror Mirror
on my wall…
Am I soon
to tragedy fall?
For that is what
I hear you know?
From whispering winds,
high and low.
They say the potions
that I oft do make,
shall bring forth death
for evil’s sake!
But “how”, I ask thee,
can such be true?
For pleasured journeys
it takes me too.
Quickly removing
smothering weeds,
and society’s poison
planted in me.
My baggage light.
Inhibitions are few,
as my eyes are blurred
from a cold sharp view.
And when nigh is the time...
on my wall…
Am I soon
to tragedy fall?
For that is what
I hear you know?
From whispering winds,
high and low.
They say the potions
that I oft do make,
shall bring forth death
for evil’s sake!
But “how”, I ask thee,
can such be true?
For pleasured journeys
it takes me too.
Quickly removing
smothering weeds,
and society’s poison
planted in me.
My baggage light.
Inhibitions are few,
as my eyes are blurred
from a cold sharp view.
And when nigh is the time...
740 reads
8 Comments
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