mercy party
mercy party
1 day ago

i quit drinking at 21
early did i have my fun
and my love she was no longer mine
in the last few days of 39.

now i'm in the Tower of London
locked up and wondering
what i did and what i didn't, i'd do it all again.
many questions concerning the circumstances of your disappearance
so i will go
and there's nothing to contradict.

and you will know what a secondary feeling is
when the widow understands the things you did
he was a good man
the blood is on your hands
you could of left but you insisted
not a chance

and you were right you're not going anywhere
you'll be stuck to matching chairs
things were good and you'll wanna think that they weren't
but you'll remember when her toast is burnt

and you will know what a secondary feeling is
when the widow understands the things you did
he was a good man
the blood is on your hands
you could of left but you insisted
not a chance

seems to be this stale giving up type of thing with you
like fire, submersion, someone new

#love   #sad   #life   #innocent   #prison  

I lie down on my pillow
Watching  my tears
Falling between the cracks
Of my   broken window
There wasn't enough
Room  to console it

#abuse   #hurt   #prison   #wound   #sentence   #accused  

I may have never shared with you,
what a wretch I was.
The dependency on drugs,
selling them to my friends,
the unforgivable, explicit activities...
you can guess where I'm going with this.
Then there were the wretched things done to me.
That I did not choose.
And I let them all eat away at my soul.
I let a prison become erected around my heart.
I hired guards.
I took new inmates.
And developed strict programs and policies...
We never allowed visitors at my prison.
I remember laying awake at night crying
more than I remember lovely stories from my childhood.
I remember dreaming happy things would happen that
just
never did.

And then I really met Jesus.
Not in the way I met Him when I was 12 years old.
At 12, He was the promise that I wouldn't burn in Hell.
At 22, He became the man who called me by my very own name and beckoned me into a world full of Light.
And I haven't looked back.
I'm not going to look back, except to tell you how dark it really was.
Because I know what it is to feeldeath.
I know what it is to stay high every day
because life is unbearable.
I know what it is to believe there is a God,
but not know how to reach Him.
I know what it's like to think you aren't
worth it.

BUT YOU ARE.
You are worth dying for in Jesus' eyes.
Can you picture that?
A man who finally loves everything about you
so much so
that He did everything He could
to set you free.
Now you just have to want it.
You have believe you can be free.
Take a good look at where you are.
Now ask yourself, "Am I truly free?"

If your life is anything like what mine used to be...
you aren't.
My heart is breaking for yours.
I know you are out there.
I know you want freedom.
You have to know,
God wants you to have it
more.

I never thought I would have the life I have now.
It is not perfect, it is so very hard sometimes.
BUT GOD ISN'T
He loves so well and so complete.
And I love you.
DEW
DEW
Mar 18

White sheets flutter...
they dance around the room
they whip and crack like storm-kissed sails
I cower in fear, my bed is empty save for pillows.

I rest my head
I'm nearly dead
I ache with dread
I crumble, like abandoned bread
and the table we set
is unwoven by time.
Splinters, like loose thread, pile up as do bones.
We are no longer held together by compassion,
we are butchered by sharp tongues and piercing glares,
for shame! We thought it was a funhouse, but we revel in slaughter.

White sheets flutter...
they wave like sleeping flags
they wave like quaking lands
then they settle and I hear the white sheets whisper
and the whispers haunt me
are they soaked by old lovers
tears like oceans raining into the sky
blood like rivers escaping the bed
bowels of deceit coughing up their secrets
let us drink all this vile bile and be drunken by horrors.

Is that the only way we can escape?

Not sure how all the ideas came together or where the inspiration was derived. I just had a thought:
"What if our bed sheets were ghosts? What would they say?"
#love   #death   #time   #past   #lovers   #memory   #age   #history   #prison   #hotels  

A prisoner on death row, sighing contendedly.
No one was ever sure of his crimes,
but his sentence was clear from the start.
His cell was always absurd,
his life always a mystery.

But now he finds peace.
He has nothing except what he knows;
and what he knows is his end.
It isn't much,
yet it's more than anyone free
has ever had.

#freedom   #death   #end   #thought   #free   #prison   #prisoner   #absurd  

I am in a prison
Prison of my mind
Somebody , help me
Rescue me from myself
My mind love playing games
Have various ways to torture me
It takes me to the depths of emotions
Play with each and every vulnerability
And I do not know how to protect my self

People probably wonder,
Why I'm obsessed with Death Grips and,
Hacking,
Computer blips,
HMTL,
VPNs and all sorts,
Of tech wizard stuff.

I'm not,
To tell you the truth,
I'm obsessed with freedom,
And my spirituality melding into nature,
Like how primitive man understood God,
Before the books and dogma.

I think about it,
Like being a prisoner,
Obsessed with what chemicals,
Will melt the bars,
And allow me to,
Run through the meadows once again.

An old new quote:

"Hacking is not a crime,
It is the art of awareness."

So here we are in the open air prison,
Of our society,
And if we meet out in the yard,
I will whisper in your ear,
"I know a place where we can be alone,"
Just like Winston and that girl,
In 1984.

Who am I?

I'm a schmuck,
Just like you.

And I wish you love and peace,
From the bottom of my heart.

<3
#freedom   #god   #hello   #pen   #spirituality   #prison   #bars   #melt   #dolly   #vpn  

There is an old story,
From 1909 I believe,
By Mr. E.M. Forster,
Where he basically predicted the freedom and enslavement,
Of the Internet,
Text messaging,
Video calls and all sorts of,
Commodified realities.

Wow!

And to go further down,
The rabbit hole,
Everyone lives in little rooms,
Not unlike modern apartments,
And cubicles,
Where they never see the sunlight,
Or sit for hours outside,
Next to their water source,
Life giver,
Nestled by greenery.

I remember my green childhood,
I stayed outside all the time,
Shat in the woods,
Drank out of streams,
Got lost,
Fought with my brother.

Another version of heaven.

I have always battled the modern existence,
Trying to live some sort of Kerouac-esque,
WANDER DREAM,
But they really don't dig that,
These days.

Recently I found an old VHS tape,
Of a movie called "Jacob's Ladder,"
Where this post office guy,
The anti-Bukowksi,
Vietnam vet,
Thinks that demons are coming to get him,
But this Jewish chiropractor that always,
Cracks his back,
Says this weird saying:

"If you're fighting against death,
You're always going to see demons,
dragging you to hell.

But if you make your peace,
They'll always be angels,
Ready to free you from this Earth."

And sometimes I feel like that.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Machine_Stops
#hell   #demons   #machine   #prison   #cube   #grandma   #jacob   #stops   #kerouac   #steve  

Like many things in life,
Problems occur.
Problems which we are
Meant to learn from.

Like many things in life,
Difficulties arise.
Difficulties that we can
All overcome together.


For better or for worse
the latter is more common,
for worse happens way too often,
the problems we face don't fade.

We live in this prison called life
difficulties arise as we slowly walk
to our demise,we fill our minds
that there are ways we can escape.



The hardships of life
Are only a small part of the
Vivid painting that is life.
We are the complete image.

Though we may have tears,
Rips, piercings, and smudges,
We are still full of wonder and
Our minds are full of light.


We embrace the order
we border on uniformity
awfully we are digging ourselves
in shelves of debt and depression.

Life is a vivid painting,
staining the realisation that death,
that the last breath taken
and the needless pain is imminent.

March 5, 2017.
This is a collab I did with Gregory Dun Aer. The regular font is the optimist, the bolded is the pessimist. Gregory wrote the pessimistic side, I wrote the other.

Lock her up! Lock her up! Lock her up!
Your campaign crowds so chanted.
You took it in and smugly smiled
while they all railed and ranted.

But lock her up for what? I thought.
She's been investigated.
For alleged conflict of interest,
she has been exculpated.

So if such accusations,
when even proved untrue,
provide sufficient grounds for jail.
They'll have to lock up... You!

You can also see this and my other Trump poems at: www.trumpoet.com
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/8hQso2tHwZM
Written January 14, 2017
#lock   #conflict   #interest   #prison   #jail   #donald   #trump   #clinton   #hillary  
 
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