Poet-i-t-m - Hello Poetry

I hear them whisper just outside my door. They say I am not likely to last another day. I know this all too well. My fate, I have accepted. Yet I cannot keep myself from hoping, wishing, praying As I lay here in my bed looking out my window.

0

Oct 26, 2018

Oct 26, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

Looking out my Window

I hear them whisper just outside my door. They say I am not likely to last another day. I know this all too well. My fate, I have accepted. Yet I cannot keep myself from hoping, wishing, praying As I lay here in my bed looking out my window.

5

A tree stands In an empty field. Stripped of its clothes It bears the wind alone.

0

Oct 26, 2018

Oct 26, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

To Be Homeless

A tree stands In an empty field. Stripped of its clothes It bears the wind alone.

4

‘Twas mid-day when I sat Ready with paint and brush and all that. Upon the stool I sat brush in hand But like a bowl of lentils plain, my mind ‘twas bland. Minute after minute, hour after hour Passed before not one idea did flow’r. ‘Twas mid-night when I stood Brush and paint in hand I did not think I could Create even a twig or blade o’ grass. So I took my brush, my paint, and all th’ mass And turned quite sudden to throw them all In to th’ depths of nearest lake to fall. But unbeknownst to me, That hellish stool on which I sat to paint thee Had fallen to that curséd ground With th’intent to trip me I soon found. And fall I did in to th’ nearest lake With paint and brush and all that I did hate. And ‘twas then that I thought As I did sink, ‘twas then that I was caught With thine image of pure light. ‘Twas then one hour past mid-night When I beheld thy face of peace Upon my canvas painted piece by piece. Then I rose to th’ surface calm as could be. I took my soaked paint and brush and all that I could see And sat upon that hellish stool To paint thee floating in that pool. So ‘tis to thee that I do write this bit of Posey. To thee, O my dear, my blesséd beauty.

0

Oct 26, 2018

Oct 26, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

To My Blesséd Beauty

‘Twas mid-day when I sat Ready with paint and brush and all that. Upon the stool I sat brush in hand But like a bowl of lentils plain, my mind ‘twas bland. Minute after minute, hour after hour Passed before not one idea did flow’r. ‘Twas mid-night when I stood Brush and paint in hand I did not think I could Create even a twig or blade o’ grass. So I took my brush, my paint, and all th’ mass And turned quite sudden to throw them all In to th’ depths of nearest lake to fall. But unbeknownst to me, That hellish stool on which I sat to paint thee Had fallen to that curséd ground With th’intent to trip me I soon found. And fall I did in to th’ nearest lake With paint and brush and all that I did hate. And ‘twas then that I thought As I did sink, ‘twas then that I was caught With thine image of pure light. ‘Twas then one hour past mid-night When I beheld thy face of peace Upon my canvas painted piece by piece. Then I rose to th’ surface calm as could be. I took my soaked paint and brush and all that I could see And sat upon that hellish stool To paint thee floating in that pool. So ‘tis to thee that I do write this bit of Posey. To thee, O my dear, my blesséd beauty.

30

What doth lie in the midst of mine heart? Tis’ the colour of hate, The shade of pride. This thing called sin fills my being. LORD make this sin not my fate. In ev’ry part o’ me does it bide. It is despised but weak I am in fleeing. My mortal form doth tremble with fear. I can do nothing to rid me of this hate, This pride that drowns me so. Hear my plea and catch my tears. As pulling Peter from the wave Do grasp mine hand that flaileth to and fro Searching for Thy hand of strength. Pull Thy servant from the depths And into Thy one true Light. As he that writ in prose to Thee, Create in me a clean heart, O God. Hold me in Thy love, Thy mercy, Thy might. Make me Thine own, though I be not worthy. Accept this humble prayer from me, mere dust. For You, and You alone, are able and willing. Amen

0

Oct 15, 2018

Oct 15, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

What doth lie in the midst of mine heart

What doth lie in the midst of mine heart? Tis’ the colour of hate, The shade of pride. This thing called sin fills my being. LORD make this sin not my fate. In ev’ry part o’ me does it bide. It is despised but weak I am in fleeing. My mortal form doth tremble with fear. I can do nothing to rid me of this hate, This pride that drowns me so. Hear my plea and catch my tears. As pulling Peter from the wave Do grasp mine hand that flaileth to and fro Searching for Thy hand of strength. Pull Thy servant from the depths And into Thy one true Light. As he that writ in prose to Thee, Create in me a clean heart, O God. Hold me in Thy love, Thy mercy, Thy might. Make me Thine own, though I be not worthy. Accept this humble prayer from me, mere dust. For You, and You alone, are able and willing. Amen

23

When all have left, I listen. Nothing but the wind of my breath, exhale of the trees greet my ringing ears. I find myself in silent solitude. In the echoing silence of the night I open my mouth to speak but stop short, afraid to shatter this bliss. Tears begin to trickle down from my closed eyes as I begin to feel. To feel Him. Here, now, quietly, whisperly, when all have left, I feel Him

0

Oct 15, 2018

Oct 15, 2018 at 9:53 AM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

When all have left

When all have left, I listen. Nothing but the wind of my breath, exhale of the trees greet my ringing ears. I find myself in silent solitude. In the echoing silence of the night I open my mouth to speak but stop short, afraid to shatter this bliss. Tears begin to trickle down from my closed eyes as I begin to feel. To feel Him. Here, now, quietly, whisperly, when all have left, I feel Him

16

deephate lossand anguish it all mixesinto onelargemess somewords dont eventouch thisfeeling myeyes areallout of tears and hanghalfclosed or is it halfopen to you whofeel myheart—does itevenbeat hard totell youcant know whati befeeling howcan you foolsunderstand youwant tohelp then LEAVEMEALONE theresnothing youcando tosave mefromthis pit of des- pair ilike theblack ofthis smallroom iusedto likepink iwanted tobe apretty princess andlive inacastle witha kingso kind butdreams dont cometrue learnthisnow youfools dreams are like pa- per burningin theFLAMES OFHELL just like me . . . . do not give up myChild I still loveyou myChild youvegone farther than rockbottom butlisten to Me listen listenlisten toMe . . . . I THOUGHT I GOTRIDOF YOU HOWDARE YOU COMEINTO THIS SOULOFMINE LEAVEHER ALONE you are so alone myfriend cantyousee noonecares about you theylie when theysay dothose fools listentomee tome listen to me . . . . thischaos inside icannotcontrol itatall iwantto SCREAMAND SHOUTbut icant i wantto crybut icant letgo of me setme FREE p l e a s e . . . . up uplook upMy Child iamnot faraway letyourheart beat beat beat again takemy hand myChild iwill neverleave younor forsake you myChild istill love you . . . . is that alight itsbeenso dark for solong imnot evensure what lightlooks like do i dareto hope dare tolook up up up . . . . YOU FOOL thereis nolight light doesnot exist ithought youwould have LEARNEDTHIS BY NOW theonly waytogo is down down down . . . . here iam myChild here i am take my hand please dontlook down dontlook down i still loveyou myChild ido i do . . . . i cant lookdown doi darelook up amieven worthit thelight is faint butican see it clear as day . . . . NO YOUFOOL you arenot worthy you cannot hope donteven try hope is frail youcant trust hope . . . . i surprise myself istill look up ithink maybe there is a littlehope maybethere is a little hope . . . . yes myChild there is hope still look up and see the light gets bigger warmer see me here I still love you myChild I still love you . . . . NO YOU FOOL no you fool no you fool . . . . the light is warm the light is bright i like the light i like the light . . . . no dont leaveme here alone listen to me one last time . . . . LEAVE MYCHILD ALONE myChild you are safe here in the light you are safe here in the light i still love you.

0

Oct 12, 2018

Oct 12, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

the battle within

deephate lossand anguish it all mixesinto onelargemess somewords dont eventouch thisfeeling myeyes areallout of tears and hanghalfclosed or is it halfopen to you whofeel myheart—does itevenbeat hard totell youcant know whati befeeling howcan you foolsunderstand youwant tohelp then LEAVEMEALONE theresnothing youcando tosave mefromthis pit of des- pair ilike theblack ofthis smallroom iusedto likepink iwanted tobe apretty princess andlive inacastle witha kingso kind butdreams dont cometrue learnthisnow youfools dreams are like pa- per burningin theFLAMES OFHELL just like me . . . . do not give up myChild I still loveyou myChild youvegone farther than rockbottom butlisten to Me listen listenlisten toMe . . . . I THOUGHT I GOTRIDOF YOU HOWDARE YOU COMEINTO THIS SOULOFMINE LEAVEHER ALONE you are so alone myfriend cantyousee noonecares about you theylie when theysay dothose fools listentomee tome listen to me . . . . thischaos inside icannotcontrol itatall iwantto SCREAMAND SHOUTbut icant i wantto crybut icant letgo of me setme FREE p l e a s e . . . . up uplook upMy Child iamnot faraway letyourheart beat beat beat again takemy hand myChild iwill neverleave younor forsake you myChild istill love you . . . . is that alight itsbeenso dark for solong imnot evensure what lightlooks like do i dareto hope dare tolook up up up . . . . YOU FOOL thereis nolight light doesnot exist ithought youwould have LEARNEDTHIS BY NOW theonly waytogo is down down down . . . . here iam myChild here i am take my hand please dontlook down dontlook down i still loveyou myChild ido i do . . . . i cant lookdown doi darelook up amieven worthit thelight is faint butican see it clear as day . . . . NO YOUFOOL you arenot worthy you cannot hope donteven try hope is frail youcant trust hope . . . . i surprise myself istill look up ithink maybe there is a littlehope maybethere is a little hope . . . . yes myChild there is hope still look up and see the light gets bigger warmer see me here I still love you myChild I still love you . . . . NO YOU FOOL no you fool no you fool . . . . the light is warm the light is bright i like the light i like the light . . . . no dont leaveme here alone listen to me one last time . . . . LEAVE MYCHILD ALONE myChild you are safe here in the light you are safe here in the light i still love you.

299

I was faithful, I was good. Constant in prayer with my Lord and Savior I knew Without a doubt that I Was safe in my Lord’s arms. But then that blessed day came. The sky was bright and brilliant Filled with my Lord’s glory. I watched in wonder as Fellow believers in the Lord Were lifted to the heavens Till all but I were with my Lord. The angels sang, the Lord spoke And I was left in darkness. I, a good and faithful believer, Was forgotten by my loving Lord. Surrounded by evil I was left To perish on this God-forsaken land. And then I awoke with a start.

0

Oct 11, 2018

Oct 11, 2018 at 4:56 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

I was Forgotten

I was faithful, I was good. Constant in prayer with my Lord and Savior I knew Without a doubt that I Was safe in my Lord’s arms. But then that blessed day came. The sky was bright and brilliant Filled with my Lord’s glory. I watched in wonder as Fellow believers in the Lord Were lifted to the heavens Till all but I were with my Lord. The angels sang, the Lord spoke And I was left in darkness. I, a good and faithful believer, Was forgotten by my loving Lord. Surrounded by evil I was left To perish on this God-forsaken land. And then I awoke with a start.

19

I confessed my love to her In pretty words speaking softly, fondly And she spake unto me: You fool, do you not realize? You bring forth tears to mine eyes For thou hast not realized What thou hast said or done. Thy words are as an empty shell Deserted by its host, never to be full again. Thy colours are beautiful, thy words sweet, Yea, sweet to the taste, but vile in the pit. Thy heart—Thy heart is a heart of words. Thou art empty. Thou hast not found thy meaning. I protested, indeed, trying desperately To convince the beautiful creature Of my love and adoration But my heart, my heart of words Knew all too well that she spake truth. I needn’t press upon thy time any farther, I told her. And I turned my back. I turned my back from the light And simply walked away Unfeeling, unchanged.

0

Oct 10, 2018

Oct 10, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

Heart of Words

I confessed my love to her In pretty words speaking softly, fondly And she spake unto me: You fool, do you not realize? You bring forth tears to mine eyes For thou hast not realized What thou hast said or done. Thy words are as an empty shell Deserted by its host, never to be full again. Thy colours are beautiful, thy words sweet, Yea, sweet to the taste, but vile in the pit. Thy heart—Thy heart is a heart of words. Thou art empty. Thou hast not found thy meaning. I protested, indeed, trying desperately To convince the beautiful creature Of my love and adoration But my heart, my heart of words Knew all too well that she spake truth. I needn’t press upon thy time any farther, I told her. And I turned my back. I turned my back from the light And simply walked away Unfeeling, unchanged.

24

A thousand monarchs sit upon their thrones Side by side, flashing their wings now and then. Gusts of wind blow through and shake their bones. A monarch falls from his throne to his end. Time flies and the seasons change A million monarch’s sit upon their thrones. Wind blows a fierce kiss within their range Two monarch’s fall with shouts and groans. The monarchs’ thrones have grown Their borders reaching far and wide. The winds of change have now flown Calling the monarch’s to abide. Time flies and the seasons change A billion monarchs have wistfully flown They, stretching their wings of age, Now leave bare their once beautiful thrones. The branches they once sat upon Now stripped and bare, lay susceptible To the wind’s every whim, rarely fond. The branches hang alone as a crucible. Time flies and the seasons change. The monarchs have left their thrones Have left the constant for a change. To the ground to wait, they have flown.

0

Oct 9, 2018

Oct 9, 2018 at 9:10 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

A Vision of a Tree

A thousand monarchs sit upon their thrones Side by side, flashing their wings now and then. Gusts of wind blow through and shake their bones. A monarch falls from his throne to his end. Time flies and the seasons change A million monarch’s sit upon their thrones. Wind blows a fierce kiss within their range Two monarch’s fall with shouts and groans. The monarchs’ thrones have grown Their borders reaching far and wide. The winds of change have now flown Calling the monarch’s to abide. Time flies and the seasons change A billion monarchs have wistfully flown They, stretching their wings of age, Now leave bare their once beautiful thrones. The branches they once sat upon Now stripped and bare, lay susceptible To the wind’s every whim, rarely fond. The branches hang alone as a crucible. Time flies and the seasons change. The monarchs have left their thrones Have left the constant for a change. To the ground to wait, they have flown.

24

She gazes out the window A distant look in her eyes. In her green eyes I see a longing To be alone, to be away, far away. And in that moment I see For the first time, I can see In her weary eyes the show of time. I see in the lines of her face A story of loss, of longing, of love. Her sad eyes shift slowly to me. To me and you she looks upon Love painted across her face. Tis then she knows without a doubt Her sacrifice was not for naught.

0

Oct 9, 2018

Oct 9, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC

Poet-i-t-m

She gazes out the window

She gazes out the window A distant look in her eyes. In her green eyes I see a longing To be alone, to be away, far away. And in that moment I see For the first time, I can see In her weary eyes the show of time. I see in the lines of her face A story of loss, of longing, of love. Her sad eyes shift slowly to me. To me and you she looks upon Love painted across her face. Tis then she knows without a doubt Her sacrifice was not for naught.

14