Why is there such thing as pressure? Social pressure, air pressure, blood pressure, peer pressure, sinus pressure, life pressure
We are pressured by every element ever created yet I am not a diamond
I am not a sparkling gem
I am not perfect
But I am something
I am a soul in a body that isn't truly mine and a pine tree in the middle of a cornfiepld and a bird who has to be fed by it's mother because it doesn't know how to live on it's own;
I am the waves that crash into the shoreline and I am the duckling who is always left behind and I am the broken voice who never yelled hallelujah because I didn't believe I could; I am a guitar that is improperly tuned and a book whose spine is destroyed and I am the child who yelled for her father that never came;
I am a unfinished painting and a crooked portrait and the broken record player that repeats the same groove over and over and over;
Yet I am not perfect, because if I was I would be able to answer your question but I can't and if I could, I know wouldn't be able to stand here and tell you who I truly am
How do you help yourself
When you are lost
In your head
As there is no path to tread
Nor no stars to guide
Just the complexity
And the ambiguity
Loneliness grows into fear
And fear grows into a parasite
Until you are no longer lonely
In every way
Who do you confide in
When you are lost
Trying to reach for a hand
That will never pull you up
But rather push you farther down
Because they can't see you
Only through you
Right into the emptiness
To the victor goes the spoils
You can't find your way
If you're lost in the world you created
Because when the angels come down
They look for the living
Not the lost.
The woman, or the character?
Was I born of flesh, and bone,
or merely a figment born of a
lonely writer’s imagination.
Do I not see this woman I appear to be?
Were these eyes, with which I see
created for me within a mother’s womb, or
merely a mirror image of what you wish to see?
When I say the words “ I love you”,
is it my heart speaking, or the
emptiness of pen against paper?
Do I even possess a heart, do we?
When I cease to exist, will you fill my pain?
Kathleen M. Kohl/Levinski
The day they operated on his brain
he imagined it as his day of poetry
freedom from the pain of living,
and heard a train reciting a long poem
on love, nightmares and death
by a Chilean poet he adored,
whose name he tried to recollect, over and over again
but his train of thoughts curiously missed
that one station in each, separate attempt.
Did he hear anyone whispering anything about 'bad omen'?
reminding a poet killed by a dose of poison
injected by the doctor treating him
to end the emotional domination of
his poetry over the mind of millions
- and then he slowly lost orientation
in delirious state he fell in to a pit of delight and thought
about the white luminant mist poetry, has created in his being,
all through the days of suffering love gifted him.
He received poetry as a feeling, deep, deep inside,
Emily Dickinson was to him a fragrance enveloping his consciousness,
then a feeling inexpressible, an elation, leading him to a plane higher.
His brain was a night filled tunnel, through which
the train reciting dark poems of stark beauty of death
traveled like lightening, he sat perplexed looking
at a mirror someone held before him, reflecting darkness, an eerie feeling.
That night train wailing as if someone dear has left for ever
traveled through the surreal plane of Dali paintings.
"Life", a unfamiliar voice proclaimed aloud near him,
"Is poetry written in one's blood, which one fails
to read as it is dangerously close to one's suicide note,
that one finishes reading only at the last minute".He hoped
they must have finished his surgery by now;
it was getting dark, a kind of mist spreading like a swarm of evil beetles,
but they were still at it, panic reigned
on the operation table. His face was peaceful
immobile like the wings of a dead butterfly.
Monitoring your life
Ever beat, body weak
Your heart struggled to keep you alive
This shouldn't come as a shock
We've known for months
I knew you weren't here anymore
Simply existing physically
Your body wiped clean of all mental capability
Like an ocean tide batters the shore, you were diminishing
Until there was nothing else to take
Reminiscing back to the signs we ignored foolishly
Never thinking it was more than a slight lapse of memory
From a call to confirm your location
To forgetting the youngest generation
Temporary confusion faded to permanent loss
As you laid unconscious
The mask on your face providing oxygen
If you could hear me
Were you silently screaming for me to shut up so you could rest
Knowing you , you were concerned with my school and why I was at the hospital instead
Did you remember my name?
Could you conjure up my face?
Behind those delicate eyelids that hadn't done more than fluttered in days?
Remember reading to me as I say on your knee?
How we'd admire nature with a hand full of bird seed?
I though I'd accepted the fact you were gone
When we first suspected the disease
The one I wish was never created, never existed, that erased my existence from your mind indefinitely
As I stared at your face, peacefully sedated, I felt a twinge of pain
How is it this woman I knew to be so strong
Might as well have had fragile stamped on her face
A being so loving
Was now so faint
Like a painting left in the rain
Your colors had began to fade
Until they were white
White like the sheets, the walls, and the floor
The absence of life that exists behind hospital doors
Your body slowly tried to quit
Hard headed as always . You said not yet
So frail you held on to the little life you had left
Until Heaven loosened your hold
I find solace knowing you're in a better place
Where you can remember lived one's names
Watching over us in the paths we take
I'm resigned now to the fact you had to go
But as long as you could
You made God wait
We stretched country roads
like the veins on our outstretched arms,
stuck pins in road maps,
embracing the dusk.
in an Olds Super-88 spaceship,
I inhaled dark-fumes, created reverse psychosis,
a stark reminder of the unnatural.
The cops didn’t believe
we were astronauts on a special mission,
my date was not thrilled as
they spilled us out onto the highway.
There was a mob scene
down in Mississippi that night,
where they nearly killed the spirit
There are some things
I never said
I have not forgotten about you
They are as follows
1. I have not forgotten
The way your lips parted
When you would say my name
As if it were some prayer
And not some messily scrawled pencil work
In the back of a stall
2. I have not forgotten
The way you would hold me
When I told you I wanted to die
When you would sit with me
And see that I was a monster
That there was a beast
Hiding inside of my head
And no amount of love
Could rid it
3. You were like Beast
And I was like Beauty
Maybe it was the other way around
Maybe you were the one
Who brought lights to others
And I was the one who drowned
4. Not everything about you was bad
You taught me
What love feels like
What true love can do
Despite everything a person feels
Love can make you or break you
And you broke me
5. I told myself
I would not have another relationship
And I lied to myself
I do not know how
To be serious anymore
All I can do is
And cheat myself
6. I couldn't think of anything else
But the way your hands curved
The way your knuckles shouted
My name when they were curled
Around my neck
The way your mouth
Formed my name
On my neck
And created a bruise
That lasted for centuries
The way you pressed
Yourself against me
"I love you, so much"
7. Do you still love me now?
8. I never told you
That I started smoking
So I could burn your scent
Out of my lungs
And taste you in my mouth
I never told you
That I started drinking
So I could forget you
And forget myself
I never told you
I started acting out
So you could pay attention to me again
I never told you
Just how much
You fucked me up
9. You were the name I moaned out
On restless Saturday nights
You are no longer that name
10. You taught me
How to fall in love with strangers
So much that
I saw their tiny little flaws
And still thought they were beautiful
I could see
The flowers growing from
Their broken and withered body
And I thought to myself
For teaching me how to love
But also fucking me over
I could care less how many hours you spend on the net or what you do when you're on. I have no clue who you are nor do I care to know you. You crossed the line in claiming one of my poems as your own.
Please be advised, It takes only a few minutes to upload electronically to the Library of Congress. Also, please be advised, certificates have been issued under the seal of the Copyright Office that attests the registration of all my poems on this site have been identified as being solely created and owned by me, Betty Ponder. There are stiff fines and penalties for attempting to take credit for works that are not your own.
Below you will find the link to the poem regarding Nelson Mandela I wrote and you get no credit for it being that I don't know you and we have never met or collaborated on anything.
Wow! you are so damned stupid to sit and copy paste my words and claim them as yours. someone posted you were on hellopeotry every day since you created your account and
what did you do? You created a new account called http://hellopoetry.com/-fuck-you-poetry-computer/ and start copy pasting all I posted. Get a life off hellopoetry and stop getting pissed and being big freaking kid when someone points out that you live on here. Copy paste that you net squatter loser.
A Love Story
There is something inside of each of our souls:
This desire for the things that will destroy us.
We crave to behave in ways that leave scars.
Battered and mauled, we are in love with the sickness.
Why do we find it so inviting that we can’t want to turn away from it?
Because to turn away would be to deny ourselves of who we are.
We were born this way: rotting flesh and souls in decay.
We will not admit to the shame of it because we cannot let our pride be wounded.
We do not accept it as fault.
We embrace it because we can’t change.
But the evidence roars in the background as you say that you are deemed worthy.
The lie you just told broke a heart.
The substances from yesterday still affect your loved ones today.
We are not meant to hurt; we were not made to hurt each other.
I believe in love.
I believe in forces.
I believe that we all were destined for good things.
They say I am too old for imaginary friends,
But this love is not imaginary.
I can see this love.
I can see it in smiling eyes.
I can see it in random acts of kindness that shouldn’t be so random.
Brothers and sisters, we were made for more than this world has to offer.
I saw love; I felt love.
Love followed me.
Love pulled me out of my own head, my own mess, my own love for my own sin.
Love knocked the wind out of me.
Love crushed my old heart.
Love let it shatter to take what was inside and make it something better.
Love loved me, when I just didn’t care.
Love waited for me.
Love was always there.
Love always knew that I would find my way.
Love had its hand on me on even my darkest day.
Love looked at me with heartbreak it its eyes.
When my back was turned, love never passed by.
Love never turned and left;
Love never gave in.
Love hurt because I wouldn’t let love in.
But love stayed and love waited.
Love waited on me.
Love led me and taught me how it feels to be free.
Love saw in my heart that I was a wreck.
Love broke down my bones to build them back.
And this time, they are stronger.
Love let me feel pain, though it pained love too,
Because in the end love always knew
That I would find love from my shackled, broken place
Where I would accept love and accept grace.
When my heart was torn open, bleeding out on the ground…
When my soul was crying out for something unknown
To fill the gaping void in my life left by the people
Who couldn’t love like love itself…
When my fears consumed me and I thought I might explode…
When I needed someone to hear me- just hear me-
So that I would not feel so alone…
When the stars taunted me and told me I was small
And that my life would never amount to anything at all…
When I was left in the dust and so unfairly mistreated
By people who were just as lost as me…
When the screaming of voices that were broken from
The love that they never received would ring in my ears…
I was lost.
When there were times that life meant nothing to me
Because I had no reason to live it…
Love found me, and love rescued me.
And love waited to make sure I understood
That love was not going anywhere.
And love wanted me to know love and that I could show love to
People who never really knew the love that found me.
They say that I’m too old for imaginary friends,
But love is not so imaginary.
Love is felt, and love wants you back.
And love never leaves you wanting.
The love on this earth is tainted and broken,
And people hurt each other because they were hurt too.
When people love, they try and give it their best go,
But they are weary and reluctant.
My heart longs for a love deep enough that no one is left dry.
A thirst that is quenched.
No more hunger pangs.
Because love showed itself to me.
So let me love even though I am weak.
Let me try and have that love show through me.
I want to shine so bright the sun would feel inadequate,
Because the brightness of love burns like a thousand earthly suns.
Because the love that found me is the love that beats in my heart,
Traveling deeper than my bones, so I can feel it in my core
When my heart pounds on.
This love courses through my veins, planting a hope in me
That I didn’t even know could be possible.
Love was not found in the pages of a book;
Love was found in the message of a force that created love’s meaning.
The pages of the book hold the words of the creator of the love
That found me but love is in their meaning.
Love is in the force behind the words that kiss the pages
Of the book that is mocked and made foolish.
The words twisting, distorted and wrong,
So far from the place where they started.
So far now that they are only words,
And the meaning they held is lost.
Love itself was mocked and made foolish
By the ones love came to rescue.
I will not mock love.
I will be proud to stand for a love that will stand for me,
When I am no better than any other imperfect human being.
No one laughs at love when love is shown in a smile,
Or a word of comfort to someone who is in need.
But they laugh at love when love is shown in the meaning
Behind the words in a book that only acts to convey the love
That could save them.
They say that I am too old for imaginary friends,
And they mock the love that lifted me above the ashes
And led me through the pain of life.
When my life was wading in open waters
With sharks circling beneath me
And feeling the fatigue set in.
Pretty soon, I would have been too tired
To even try at all.
But love reached out into my heart
And gave me the strength to keep wading,
With the knowledge that the sharks can’t touch me.
And one day I will be out of the water and onto dry land
Where I will never have to swim again.
They say I am too old for imaginary friends,
But love is the realest thing I know and
Love saved me.