I held you softly
as you slept
I held you gently
as you wept
I held you tightly
as you screamed
I stroked your hair
as you dreamed
I wiped the tears
that would not dry
I cried the tears
you would not cry
I took the demons
in your head
and made them
Mine instead
I need to be
by your side
don’t turn me away
I am not your Pride
I am not your Pity
I am not your Sorrow
I am here Today
I am your Tomorrow

is not a disability to me
be it PTSD
or Bi Polar
or Anxiety Depression
or just riding Solo

it's not a disability to me
it may play havoc
with my everyday life but
it's not an impediment
or an indication
that you lack ability
to deal with living strife

it's not a disability to me
it's more a heightened empathy
a conscious awareness
not a disease (some cases can be)
but not a disability to me

it just means your fortitude
takes you to the next level
when the ground falls
beneath your feet
you don't lay down to grovel
you find ways to make
a near endless day
better than it was yesterday
you praise all tomorrows
because you made it today

your mental disabilty
has never been a disability
to me
*in any way

Hey guys

I have found several Daily Poems from this site being shared externally with no acknowledgement to the rightful owner :(

Head over here....

http://thepoetryden.wordpress.com/author/thepoetryden/

and if you find your original work there then I highly encourage you ask this person to either a) link the poem back to your original or b) remove them from his site. He claims to be a poet and is misleading people by not putting original names/original links to the works he is posting!

Go through them carefully as the titles of the poems have been changed.

Please share this because I have read at least 3 poems from this site from 3 different people over there with no acknowledgement to the original author!

Update ~ Sept 6th 2014 ~ You are NOT going to believe this. I found Shane Linville on Facebook and you will never guess who is one of his favourites! Chris G Vaillancourt! That's right, the very same well known plagiarist from days gone by at HP. He was such an insidious piece of work

*******! Not the way I'd like to see my name next to a Daily Poem but getting the awareness out there is a nice thing too :)

Tick tock, Tick tock, Tock Tock ticking
Clocks cluck, catching curious cries
Several seconds slide, slowly sticking
Eclectic evil ever eager to eat out eyes

Tock tock, tick tick Tock
danger dances down, depicting doom
Hands hold hearts heavily in hock
aren't all able to articulately assume?

Clock is currently counting costs
justifying jumps and juggling jacks
tabulating time that is tossed
lightening liberal lust and loving lax

tick tick tick, tick tick tick
destination is a detonation despised
tock tock tock, tock tock tock*
sheep sleep soundly shrouded, so surprised

you don't understand how long some people have been here
you don't understand the changes we've seen
you don't understand how much we've longed for the people to
be who they be
you don't understand how it breaks our hearts
to see such infighting
bought to our world from other pages
used to back biting
you don't understand, for us
that have believed from the start
that Hello Poetry was once a place
where we always laid our heart
we gave over our life to this place
we endured every change
when you see something different here
know we have suffered more than this strange
once upon a time
in an awesome time and place
when people googled
Poetry
they found this space
they found inspiration
they found laughter that never ends
they found confidantes and a place
to plant
a never ending garden of friends
So if you're from another site
drawn here by the skin of tooth
sit a while in our midnight garden
and I'll speak to you a truth

Hello Poetry has been my best friend
for over 5 years, and all the friends
I've found on here, they've danced beneath my laugh, and held onto me so tight
that if I ever fall so wrong, they'll make
it all right

And that's the saddest thing
about Hello Poetry today...
is that most don't try
to make true friends
really real friends
or interact with them
in any meaningful way

It’s bad enough I’m just known as
that squiggly piece of the alphabet
but what’s worse are the jokes of
Why the long face Kevin?
Those are the times when I wish
I could give as good as I get
it's not as bad as facing the guys
with bloated stomach and ***
and have the amoebas ribbing me
incessantly
****** single celled creatures
They have an idea, but they can’t guess
Poseidon take you Janet!
for leaving me in such a mess!
You take all of me without leaving
just a single ounce of pleasure
and I’m left birthing
your demon spawn
You were just a mistress Seahorse
in disguise weren’t you?
I’m no longer an oddity
now I’m something less
*Seahorse blues
a male in distress

I've been blocked
well an good
by some obtuse
butthurt mindfuck

cant believe my luck!

but please unblock me
long enough
to delete your unread
message (so I can clean
up your verbal Diarrhea)

It's annoying
to me
as its messing up
the aesthetics
of my screen

I'm so sorry guys, it seems this is never ending.

Here is where I've found new stolen poems

http://www.experienceproject.com/

The user is http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
(you may need to create a free account to check his posts)

and he's posted

Flying Fingers ~ Pamela Rae under I Wonder Who Reads My Stories with no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Wonder-Who-Reads-My-Stories/4785328

Know the Beauty of a Woman ~ Cataleya with no link and not only that, in the comments when he was congratulated for a great write he said 'Thanks mate'
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Know-The-Beauty-Of-A-Woman/4693147

new link 1 Release ~ POETIC T with no link and his comment was it was from his soul
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Love-To-Write/4781292

new link 2 I Am A Writer ~ Madalyn Beck no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Am-A-Writer/4631574

new link 3 A Kiss Upon a Blank Page ~ Kalypso no link, comments claim it as his own
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Kiss-Upon-This-Blank-Page/4577880

new link 4 A Thousand Colours ~ Amrutha no link
http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/F-I-Could/4534117

As you can see, I could sit here all night and point out the stolen poems however, I will now just encourage everyone to visit this link
http://www.experienceproject.com/about/marklovescoffe
join the site (it's free) go to the left hand side menu and click on Stories and see if you recognize your work (you will know the instant you start reading the post!) Then give it to him with both barrels! Like I said in my notes, I'm almost certain they are a member here!

Please share!

**i have edited the links in here because he has changed his user name if you are looking for it, he dropped an e off the end... because we are sooo stupid....

I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real,

The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting,
Try to **** it all away,
But I remember everything,

[Chorus]
What have I become,
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end,

And you could have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt,

I wear this crown of thorns,
Upon my liars chair,
Full of broken thoughts,
I cannot repair,

Beneath the stains of time,
The feelings disappear,
You are someone else,
I am still right here,

[Chorus]
What have I become,
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end,

And you could have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt,

If I could start again,
A million miles away,
I will keep myself,
I would find a way

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-17/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-ii/
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/first-date-iii/
(best read in order)

He blankets her with a mist that is fine and as pure as his postpartum soul is able to manifest. He’s sorry that she is sobbing on the dirt floor. He can’t think past the hunger that is beating upon her, which beats upon him. He is angry that his ancient predatory instincts are gaping to the fore.

   For the ancient being now gently weeping on a cold dirt floor.

Why did he not recognize her? How did he get so lax in the thinking that cattle could disguise it self?  A Wolf in Sheep’s clothing? Well... it’s not like he has not donned the same costume!

   He had been a Protector for so long. Rising each Sunset with the challenges that bring on the most predatory beasts that hunger for pain. He, alone, has stood beside Humanity to bring the world a semblance of normality, morality, a passing moment when they thought they were King of the world… but their inflated egos were never touched by doubt.
Because of him.

But she brings him down to the basest level.

   He feels…
    For her
     For her hunger
      For her emptiness
       For her utter contemptuousness


   She is the creature that he has been birthed to fight. The utter savageness that she brings forth when it becomes night.

He alone, in eternity, wanders the earth to make Mortal life the one thing that is right.

   She lifts her head from the cold dirt floor to stare at him. He materializes as a persona that should scare her, one that heralds Death, but his emotions are fraught with peril. She is important to him. He may have been birthed to bring Death but he was never denied that one could become his Life.

His pulse quickens, her eyes widen, her pulse quickens, he is afraid of the sight that lays bare in front of him. His fangs are buried deep in his bottom lip, he can not say a word even if his immortal soul depends on it.

   She licks her lips in hesitation, maybe anticipation; she could be licking her lips because of the small droplet of blood that lingers in the corner of her mouth. He wants to touch his tongue to said lips and cheek and ear and throat and, well HELL, he’s happy to continue south… as long as his tongue is touching skin…

   She looks away, briefly, and cries again. She is unable to fight past her hunger even though she has recognized the Protector.

She needs protecting too!

She’s so hungry!

But from the swelling of his body, *so is he…

Asmodeus* is left to breathe nothing but sand

Belial is trickery and is partial to Man

Charon is only influenced by what is paid

Dagon will bake whatever can be made

Erebus guards his own darkness under his own tree

Furfur  his army is more legendary as a legion to see

Geryon his sentry at the gates ensures leaving is not right

Hetu-Ahin even whole at Dawn you are not safe at Twilight

Itzcoliuhqui is the ******* of all that is cold

Jezebeth is articulated as all falsehoods that are told

Kasdeya wallowing 5th in line to never be king

Lilith who Adam thought would make him sing

Mephistopheles not the true leader just a fawning servant

Nyx Incestuously in love with her brother Erebus

Orthon can take on any or other form

Philotanus will assist when the fortress is to be stormed

Qanel is alone in a canal of strife

Raum his command means Furfur is under the knife

Seth Rules the Egyptian underworld with an iron fist

Tando Ashanti Takes seven on seven and will never miss

Uphir will ensure that all Demons stay well

Vetis will make sure all that Holy comes to Hell

Wele Gumali is as black as the darkest sin

Xaphan makes sure that all are comfy and warm within

Yama has dogs to take care of all the junk

Zagam** is just a drunk

Why can't I be as pretty as the little girl
that sits next to me at work, she seems
all long legs and golden skin,
20 long years younger
thin body poured into size 6 jeans

Why can't I be pretty like that?

I wish I was as pretty on the beach
next to the bikini clad lovelies
all long haired and impressive assets
Why can't I be like that?

I wish I was as pretty as my friend
sitting next to her on a barstool
crowded away from her, male backs
facing me, surrounding her, I'm a fool!

I wish I was pretty
or even attractive
or even winsome
or cute
or

or

or

I wish, I wish
Oh, how I wish
I could be an entree
even if I'm not
the main dish

or

or

The fish
caught on the hook
an acceptable catch
not to have the hook
ripped from my flesh
just to be thrown back

I wish I was pretty
I'm positive I was one day
Someone loved me once
and my children say

Mummy, you look so pretty
when I decide to make an effort
but no matter how hard I look
in the mirror
I just can't make their words fit!

I wish I was pretty
a beautiful disguise
I wish I was pretty
in my eyes

Not one thing!

Not a bottle, nor a song
nor a conversation
could 'ere last too long
Not a heartbeat, nor a rhyme
Never a marriage
not this time
Nothing lasts forever my friend!
Not even the pages we scribe!
Neither oil nor acrylic
even water based leaks
under the test of time
No ink will outlast us
No pencil could describe
either of our loneliness
completely erased by the tide
Nothing lasts forever
The sunset taught me that!
The sunrise fools us into thinking
that the sun will stay where it sat
It's why we keep on going
knowing, nothing will ever last
We die each night only to wake
pretending we forgot the past

Washing, ironing, cooking, cleaning
The work is never done!
Lunching, shopping, relaxing, reading
I’ve heard is much more fun.

Sweeping, mopping, dusting, shining
Who thinks up all these gigs?
But what I really want to know right now
Is who left open the barn door to let in the pigs?

Mowing, weeding, trimming, seeding
Are mans work, but I’m all on my own
I gave birth to a virtual army
But housework is their No Go Zone!

Yelling, screaming, crying, keening
Achieves naught but my puffy face
I’ve given up such futile exercises
That puts no one in their place.

I hear “Can you help me please”
They hear “Blah Blah Blah”
Maybe I need to learn sign language
One gesture can go so far!

To this end I have ultimately decided
And I really do think this is for the best
To sit right down with drink in hand and
Let the little piggies wallow in their own mess!

24/07/2010

One day I'll be enough
of a person
Enough to recognise
I'm worth it
One day I'll be enough
of a Partner
Enough to recognise
I could be your ever after
One day I'll be enough
of a Wife
Enough to recognise
I need no other life
One day I'll be enough
of a Mother
Enough to recognise
you didn't need another
One day I'll be enough
of an Individual
Enough to recognise
I'll never be good enough
*for you

Verily, the moon is bright
Merrily, I rejoice the sight
Scarily, I will re-form
Hairily, I am reborn

see me sitting
on the floor
see the cracks
inside the flaws
feel my anger
live my pain
I'll never be
the same again
while I exist
inside life's twister
my anchor will be
*My Sister

twinkle brightly within their eyes
whisper nothings they exhale as sighs
be their every breath they take
be their very worst mistake

be their moment, be their sin
be their beginning, be their end
be a verb or be a noun
be their slippery ***** to ground

be the night star in their skies
be the sunshine in their eyes
be the one who makes them cry

be the one who makes them laugh
be the dumb to their smart

be their Mom, be their Dad
be their Lover, be their Sad
be there Tomorrow
be their Yesterday
be there Forever
when they don't stay

****** a Poet!
its so simple
its the little things
that make a ripple
spreading outward rings
into the Universe

how to ****** a Poet?

be their  
*First

because it may be sure that...

Never argue with an idiot. They will only bring you down to their level and beat you with experience.
~ George Carlin

and as true as that may be
they underestimate, greatly
that intelligence is a weapon
that will surely defeat them

and while they drag you down
remember, they are beneath your feet
planted firmly upon their crown
ensures you can step up
and the pit they dug for themselves
is where they have to sleep

Always argue with an idiot
for if they drag you down
you can crawl back from their vitriol
and look down upon them
from higher ground

When all that is left
is feeling hurt
When it's the only song
you have ever learned
when it's the only tune
you have ever heard

Can you let it go?

Someone once said to me
Let it go, let them free
but they come back,
can't you see?

Should I let them go?

When I let them go
They still follow me
I tried to free them
but can't you see?

They came back to me

and I can't let them go

Oh no,
Oh no!

I won't let them go

Oh no

I won't

Let them go, let them go

Oh no...

When I'm the only light
they have ever known
The only place
they ever called home
When I'm the one
they miss the most

**I won't let them go

Seems to me like the Grim Reaper would have some sense of humour... Just look at his job description....

   He was staring at the fire with a horrified expression on his face.

   I quickly hid the stick with the marshmallow squished to the end of it behind my back. I frowned slightly at the look on his face and shook my head, thinking 'Nah, he’s not ready for that kind of humor' and I just stood slightly behind him and let the firelight dance in the night.

It certainly was a time for reflection…

  I go to touch him softly and he slowly turns his head away from the fire and as his eyes settle on my hand hovering above his shoulder and he shudders and jerks away. I’m offended at first until I realize I forgot my gloves that day.
Opps, scary, bony hand. Right! A real turn off and I duck my head to make sure the cowl is covering my face.
No more mistakes!

   “Where am I?” he grits though clenched teeth while his head swings between me and the fiery conflagration upon the motor way.

   “Who the hell are you”

“Me?” I ask, exasperated. Like the scary, bony hand didn’t give me away!

   “Am I dead?”

Oh ****, he’s now hyperventilating… not a good sign

“Not yet” I answer slowly… Hmmm, how to explain? “ No, your not dead, but you will be. I took you early because well…” and I wave my hand in the general direction of the car that just exploded, which quite nicely scored a point in favor of my benevolence. “I just swooped in a bit early because, lets face it… do you want to be there?!!”

He throws his hands over his head and ducks at the loud explosion and looks at me like it was my entire fault. Well I wasn’t the one that thought I was okay to drive home after drinking all night but I’m used to being pegged as ‘The Bad Guy’… rolls eyes Sheesh!

   “Where’s Janet?” he asks quietly then with an ear piercing scream (I don’t really have ears but by the howls coming from the forest behind us (because I can hear animals, I'm not completely deaf) I’m assuming his voice ratcheted up a notch or two…) JANET!!

"Calm down dude. She’s gone already."

   "Gone already? What do you mean gone already? You got me out and left her in the car?!?" He seems really ****** now.

"No! I didn’t! I mean that Gabriel has already been to collect her. Hey you’re a lucky guy. Gabriel doesn’t just shuck his wings to swoop down for nobody. She must be a real nice piece of… well a really nice lady for Gabriel to come collect her."

   "Gabriel?" He's shaking his head slowly like he's trying to dislodge a twig from his hair and his eyes are growing wider by the minute. "Gabriel? As in Archangel Gabriel? So she's going to heaven?"

He seems relieved which in turn makes me breath easier until he focuses again on me with a crazy eyed stare which makes me think he's about to get hysterical again.

   "Then what the hell am I still doing here? Why aren't I with her?"

Oh, tricky question. I hate the tricky questions. I'm so not paid enough for this **** and tricky questions. Why can't they just ever come along quietly?

"Umm" I hedge, with a little twitch right about where my eye muscle should have been. "I believe it has something to do with your secretary?" I deliberately leave it ending in a question.

   "My secretary? What the hell does that... Ohhh..."

Bingo, there you go. I love it when the penny drops quickly.

But I'm saddened because I know for a fact that his secretary was a scheming ***** that came onto him and he sidestepped all her advances at every opportunity but he was caught late night at the office with a big case and she took advantage of the late hour and even though nothing happened he still fantasized occasionally about the almost moment.

I pointed this out to Gabriel when he came to collect Janet and also advised that Janet was less innocent than she looked and he just sneered to me in that pompous angel way...
"Yeah? So what. We're really bored up there and this one is pious enough to escape notice but just enough down and ***** we can have some fun.
Back off Death!

You've already touched this one.

You just make sure you clean up the mess left over and make sure her man doesn't come sniffing 'round our domain or we'll make sure Lucifer hears about your little mistake with the last Pope and how you let him escape upstairs when he was meant to take the elevator south... Yeah, you know what I'm talking about...."
and then he was gone. All shining light and white wings and trumpets and fanfare.

Pfffttt... the mans exit is the most exciting thing about him so I guess Janet really is going to get what she deserves...

   "So what about me?" he said to pull me out of my reverie

"What about you?" Oh! What about* you? Okay, well I can put you back in the car and you can be burned alive until you take your last breath and get just a small taste of where you are heading"

He didn't really seem to like that answer and by the look on his face that is when I decided to toss the stick with the marshmallow squished onto the end of it far into the treeline. I really didn't think I was ever going to be able to pull that one out of the bag. But I was still really ****** at Janet (on his behalf) and I'd ******* this one up to royal proportions so I didn't think my next suggestion would be any less worthy of the moment.

"Or, I could bust you through the windshield on impact before the car sets alight."

He's not sure but he's nodding his head slowly and he's listening.

"Now, you have to remember, you were traveling at speed and not wearing a seat belt of course so you have to know that where you land after skidding a bit.... well, there will be scars..."

   *"Scars, chicks dig scars" he murmurs thoughtfully

"Yes, they do" I warm up to the thought. "And don't forget, you'll be a Widower too... Chicks dig that too"

   "Yes, a widower, scarred and tragically losing their wife. I like, I like"

He's warming to my idea.

I'm so smart!

Because he wasn't supposed to be the one I was to escort to Hell.
It was supposed to be his ***** of a wife Janet, but who in their right mind fights an Archangel for a soul? Not me, I'm the biggest wimp of all time. I just touch them and they fall! I'm not a fighter. Janet, for all her sins was to be mate to Lucifer tonight. I could have just touched Gabriel but I noticed he didn't get close enough to me to allow it and I didn't push the cause because I knew his payload wasn't anything he should gloat about and I wished him well...

So I really did '****' two birds with one stone this night. Janet got what was coming to her (Gabriel is the biggest sadistic ***** of the bunch) and her husband is a little banged up but the sympathy vote is scoring him some serious chick points.

Me?
I love my job :-)

before you start reading, please not that the Barbie in this poem is not the registered trademark that is the Barbie doll (all is revealed in the notes)*

When Barbie wakes up in the morning
Even the birds stop chirping in fright
She makes her way to the wardrobe knowing
What is inside will start the day right

First to be donned is her barbarian bra
It takes quite a task to fill
She really is ever so grateful for her bra
It keeps all the best bits subdued and still

The bras must always go on first
Without it she would be in trouble
If the briefs went on first without the bra
To this day she’d still be bent over double

Next on are the bountiful bootylicious briefs
She worries that they may have shrunk
Mayhap she should stop putting them in the dryer
They are essential to keep all her junk in her trunk

Over the top of the barbarian bra
Goes a sweater with the deepest V neck you’ll find
The cleavage that is on display is important
It keeps the focus from straying to her behind

On go the boots and laced up tight
These babies were made for walking
But most days they are just for comfort
Unless she’s up for some stalking

Last of all on her perfectly coiffed head
She settles her beautiful hat
It looks a little like a large table umbrella
In fact, once upon a time, it was actually that!

She’s now ready to start her day
And the birds resume chirping like a choir
Barbie is ready to face the world dressed in her
Barbarian Bra and Bountiful Bootylicious Briefs and
Other Amazing Attire

Before you start reading this I feel I must tell you, this is long and very possibly, very very boring but, so very important to me and hopefully to my dedicated*


I sat back upon cracked heels
that represented, simply,
just a good place to sit
Somewhere close to the ground
where I could trail fingertips
in the dirt, drawing pictures
of deserted castles
and skeleton butterflies
with wings of fractutured glass
and fairies
with silken headdresses
of thorns
and Unicorns,
missing their horns
and other creatures
of similar ilk

Staring at the fence,
Fifty million years high
I sigh
because beyond the fence
in a babble of voices
they whisper of
Contentment
The underlying sentiment
of precocious antic dotes
spilling precious needs upon
any slight breeze
drifting like glowing dust motes
fills me with a resentment
that is voraciously ferocious
because they
spoke to each other
while all I had was dirt
beneath my fingernails
and partially deformed nightmares
that blew away
on the slightest exhale

As I cleaned the slate
with a flick of my wrist
Rain turned to mist
my dust board of memories
became a mud pile
I couldn't smile
I could hardly even frown
I was still as close as I could ever be
to the ground
I was now no longer kneeling
I was laying with one cheek
against my impression of Calliope,
who is carvorting silently
with rucked up skirts and lute in hand
but not longer in motion
just a muddied mess of dirt and tears
capturing all my naked fears
erased beneath a spirit
that hides in the dirt
on the other side of the fence

This is where he found me
All ragged and breathing stale air
All gasping for solace
trying to wrap myself in warmth
of the voices
from the other side of the fence
It was not blanket sized
more just a crocheted square
enough to cover my heart
which needed the warmth
I swear, I went cold so often
that the dirt that remained
under my fingernails
was the only thing
that kept my fingers warm

He crouched beside me
and said softly
What have we here?
Oh baby bird with broken wing
but whose song I did hear sing
Little Callista, mute from your screams
Broken from your nightmares
that started as dreams...
I saw you through the fence

As I stared into tapestry eyes
and followed the outstretched hand
that didn't try to touch me
sensing my fragility
He pointed to a pinprick space
devoid of concrete and mortar
Just inches from my dirtied face
in the Fifty million year high fence
he graced me with a weary look
I heard you ask once
while chasing skeleton butterflies
if they came from over fence...
Would you like a look?

He stood up over ten feet tall,
simply clasped his hand together
With eyebrow raised
and a twitch to lips
he invited me to stand
with a nod of his head
and a flick of eyes to the fence
I simply unwove all my dreams
and delicious unfantasies
stood, put a hand on his shoulder
a ***** foot in his palms
and he hoisted me

What I saw over the fence was
Magical, Mystical
a complete break to my reality

A simple garden of verdant green
the sublime shade of an unspoken tree
a single little girl
with ten thousand voices
spilling from her lips
from her I caught
just a small crocheted square
on the other side
but it still made no sense
what I saw,
hanging from the fence
until I looked back down
into taperstry eyes
that smiled
with a knowledge of Soloman
having pulled apart
and put back together
a struggling humanity
He simply grinned at me
and trumpeted
She is you, she writes Poetry
You are her and I, We, believe
in both of you.
As you can clearly see
there is nothing beyond the fence
that you cannot be

And he simply bent his knees
and lifted his hands
to the Sun
and toppled me over the fence
so I could, again
become one

lost to independence
lost to familiarity

I've lost so many
to a life that
can
      not
            be

lost to distracting influences
lost to argumentative forces

so many of my friends
have been lost to various causes

I've lost friends to love, and hate
lost friends that I can't find
wandering in a field of starkness
I've lost friends to uneven stakes
and friends that have voluntarily
embraced a hug from the darkness

but,
in the end
even when you feel
I'm not your friend
I'll be there forever
because we have
a
   bond...

I'm the anchor, to your ship
even though you drift
I can hold you, to me
because

*we belong

It's a matter of choice
as I pick through the basket
Alluring, ****, Servicable
Barely there, You Asked For It

My choice

As my fingers pluck at Silk
and Satin and Lace
I can imagine your face

In the shower scents arise
Chosen gels floral a surprise
I've picked an outcome
as scented by my skin
I'm hoping to be outdone
by the choice of fabric

One small scrap of fabric
stands between
Begin
and
End

I hate digital alarm clocks.

The eerie way they light a room in the deep of night and that silent way they have of counting down the hours of life left.

It just leaves me exhausted!

At 12.47am I woke to a flickering red haze across my bedroom ceiling that seemed to spread like a stain down the walls to pool on the floor.
Now, I know I should not be reading Amityville Horror in bed, on a full stomach and I’m pretty sure that the block of chocolate that I snacked on while reading may have upped the ante in the endorphin stakes but combined with that evil digital alarm clock I was wide awake at 12.47am and the curtains at the open window were flickering across the harsh red numbers.

The oddest scene was playing around me, like a bad play where all the actors rolled around in a vat of blood before they stepped up.

Kratos and Ares, in full battle regalia where crossing swords with a ferocity of a westerly wind fleeing from Zephyrus himself. The clang of steel was loud in my head and beat a pulse behind my eyes that watched them move around the end of the bed and along the wall along side of me.

The breeze slithering through the trees and through my open window bought whispered entreaties to my ears…

“She mine Ares! I saw her first, I will have her. She is my Yin! I will possess my other half!”

Clang, clang, grunt, clang

“Kratos, you do not know me well to think that I will not fight for the one that can stand with the God of War! I will have her”

Clang, ******, parry, clang

Now, this is where I got really confused.

I was starting to think that the red haze fluttering around the room was from my bleeding eyes because it was now 4.27am and more than 3 hours of my life were gone.

How was I supposed to get that back?

I was idyllically pondering what a Yin was while being gobsmacked by the fact that I was actually the other half of something. But being the other half of Strength?

What does that make me?

Weakness?

What would my Greek name be?

Profligatus?

But that didn’t concern me more than what Ares wanted with me? How strong did he think I was? Sure, I’m a bit prickly at times but for the God of War to focus on me? ****, and I thought I had curbed my enthusiastic condemnation of humanity… Obviously I had not!

But who am I kidding! It was really very nice to have them fighting over me. I’m not really sure who drew first blood (because of the ****** evil digital alarm clock glow) but I’m sure I would have swooned into whomevers arms reached down to claim me had it not been for the sound of the evacuation alarm.

ER ER ER ER ER ER ER ER*

****, ****, ****, the sun has crept over the horizon and has lightened the darkened theater that is my bedroom and it’s the alarm clock that is shrieking a warning that it’s time to start a new day.

****! I’m not ready for this. I’m tired, I want more dreaming, or awakening, or whatever the hell that was!

Most of all I want to know…

What did it all mean?

How many of you here counted
your last moment?
How many of you wondered if
your last breath breathed would be
the moment you would own it?

How many of you published words
as if it would be the last you write?
How many here read those words?
Hugging them long into the night?

How many of you tried to say
exactly what you feel, but failed?
How many times did you edited it
every single word, every line?
Just to post it so it was unveiled?

How many times did you refresh
the words that you have lied?
How many times have you typed
every tear that you have cried?

How many times did you say
I love you in a thousand letters
As many times as it takes you
to make the world seem better

Your poetry is as important
as the balm upon a soul
Your words caught upon a page
*are a literal bomb

She whispered to her husband with a little unease
They want to remove these but without them I might no longer be able to please...

Let them take them!
You're not just your *******,
You're not just your beautiful eyes
I wouldn't care if you'd been plucked blind!
You're not just a pair of luscious legs
that hold up that beautiful peach of an ****
You're the very air that I breathe
and every beat of my heart
I don't care if you don't have a thing on your chest
I only care, that without you near
I would follow you into eternal rest
Please let them take them
I'm not interested in anything
that doesn't have you to support them

His gaze started at her pretty pink toenails and travelled leisurely up her calves, his hands followed his eyes, to her knees and paused halfway up.
His hands skimmed her rounded belly where their three children began their life then traced her tiger scars onto her rib cage but his eyes were on hers, glittering like stars.
He ghosted up her torso and rested a trembling hand on her pulse
He whispered gently, against her lips

*This is what I want to feel the most!

I cry into buttercups
where bees sip
their latest sup
I rage in rivers
that are just sand beds
sitting cross legged
watching my skipping stone
just sitting, it hasn't skipped
as I sit and beg
for it to move
I watch the Moon
cross a starless sky
and I cry, I cry
for it to touch it's angel
For should the Moon
ever meet the Sun
the Earth would rejoice
and a love would be caught
but, alas
the Moon never seems
to catch the Suns eye
even sitting in the sky
in daylight, waiting, waiting
for the time to be right
I cast a penny into the fountain
my wish drowned, just like the last
I scaled opposition like a mountain
breathing ghosts from within my past
I kissed a girl and made her cry
I kissed a woman, she liked it
I kissed a man I thought I could love
I kissed a child, a product, despite it
Sitting at the crossroads
simply playing my own tune
I'm sitting here, solo
hoping that someone tunes in soon
Love!
It's just a memory, skipping stones
and moonlit walks
Love thyself in all thy forms
Self love
walks the talk

My nose is cold
because its the middle
of Winter
but I'm sitting here
on the back verandah
waiting for my soul
to splinter

because its so frustrating
that I'm waiting

for Life to just come
smack me in the face
as I sit here and pity
such a waste...

What dreams did I imagine
while just watching the river flow?
What real life did just pass by
as I watched another day die,
burnt beneath a fiery glow?

Slowly does the irritation
leech from my fingertips
Rapidly does the poison
fall from my unmoving lips

Achievement from the sleeping state
is all that I ever seek
but coming from my wakened state
is the havoc that it reeks

I close my eyes and fall asleep
and ask my demons to hopefully keep
one eye open to look around
for my sanity to be found

*Amen

I'll walk towards you in stilletos
Naked as the day I was born
and fold myself across you
anticipating as the day is long

I'll bend my knees upon carpet
as decadent as your punishment
and hold my breath until blue
waiting for your commencement

Waiting for your roaming hand
to just simply stop it's caressing
anticipating that sharp sting
upon flesh so eager for addressing

Up and down the fingers splayed
beginning the real torture
wiggling brings a sharp reprise
and a whispered
what have I taught you?

There is no escape, essentially,
as you bend so enticingly
across my knee there is no escape
from me

and crack across my buttocks
brings pleasure to both of us
and an unspoken entreaty,
hips raised in motion
please...
More for me

they say they don't know
where they came from
all covered in mud
the blood and muscle
rotted away when
the ground was dug
and a little blonde corpse
was rolled like dough
into a black hole
then covered in mud
under freshly falling snow

but I know

I know those bones,
they were part of me
fingers and toes
when I was complete

you see...

not my blonde hair,
now just clumps
not my bonny *******,
no more lumps
not the pretty dress
I wore to the dance
not the black patent shoes
there's no chance,
there will be remnants
of soul deep bruises
on my once pretty face
there will never be
any trace
of rough hewn rope
that bound my limbs
just bones left
and a story to begin

Your chances are, your chances are...

Chances are the forecast -
is mistaken.

Rain is inevitable.
Down and bound
to arrive, sourced from
a cloudless sky

Chances are the forecast -
is mistaken.

Death is inevitable.
Down and bound
to arrive.
After one last
cloudless breath
taken, no more.

Whispering chants
and waving fingers
conjuring spirits
of all that lingers
Raising the ghouls
to see the future
Disembodied figures swell
in ghastly caricature
A promise is whispered
The living is lead
to a single untruth
told by the dead

who doesn't stick their tongue out
just to taste the color of the rain
who doesn't follow their own dream
to find a lost treasure for them to claim

don't go chasing rainbows
for the colors aren't so bright
at the end of every rainbow
is a black as dark as night

a rainbow only comes after the storm
and in the end it just fades away
how does chasing colors in the sky
become night time ecstasy in the day?

simple melody of color is apparent
in a heart that has beat in triple time
drowning in a cauldron of melting heat
is a glistening *** of gold so fine

don't go chasing rainbows
for the colors aren't so bright
at the end of every rainbow
is a black as dark as night

I am the shimmering colors
of no end you'll find, it seems
in the beginning, I'm all you wished
at the end, you'll find your dream

*don't go chasing rainbows
for the colors aren't so bright
at the end of every rainbow
is a black as dark as night

there are no rules

        love

                           we should not be fools

You
Lipstick on his collar

Me*
Bruises on my breast

He kills her
he's a murderer

She kills him
she's a victim

trying to survive

her word against his
but he's dead

his word against her
still leaves him dead!

domestic violence
is not gender based!

It's gender biased!

We all to quickly judge
with haste

Those that are just trying
*to survive