Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Living in a world where is based on what you have then who you are. Where everyone is different in the same way. So who really is unique? Where attraction is based what you give not what you bring. Poetic justice doesn't exist. Burning down a city is not really freedom. But who am I to preach, if I sin every day. Why would God forgive? In a world where everything is for sale even self esteem I'm still having a issue with mine. In a world where everything is for sale but I won't buy. I still believe in being me. Lost touch with the art but I still believe in me. Lost the love for the world but I still dream. Lost the one, she wasn't the Poetress I was looking for. **** this new world.
At 13 I dreamed of a million... at 23 I see money is not everything. But in this new world money is everything and everything has a price.
Life is hard and work is long
So many things to come between us
Misunderstandings and different ways to live
Disagreements on when to take and when to give,
When to fight and when to yield
Sometimes we're a sword when the other needs a shield
But learning and forgiving is how we make it through
Even when the romance seems to have fallen, too
You will always be my lover, always keeping me alive
I will always be here for you,
Hungry for the times
When things are peaceful
And you're in my arms.

101513 ~ 9.53a
"Morning Prayers" is a group of poems that comprise a writing exercise that I undertook for a few years. I would write a poem at least 5 days a week, first thing in the morning, devoted to my lover. Sometimes I would really surprise myself.
Hesitantly
I try to heal
Knowing nothing has changed
in the way we feel
But we woke up softer
on Saturday morn
and a slow caress
became delicious ****
Fingers interlaced
A gentle morning moan
Waking with your taste,
it's your pleasure that I own
And one was not enough
because, baby, it's been too long
Muffled through pillows & sheets,
I can hear your ecstatic song.
022315 ~ 9.16a
Making up waking up
I've spent countless hours
Searching for myself in bottles
And scraping the bottom
Hoping that I may be found there

I've spent countless hours
Searching for myself in medication
And swallowing the hardest of pills
Seeking refuge in the numbness

I've spent countless hours
Searching for myself in people
And cleaning myself after the lust
Just feeling more lost than before

I've spent countless hours
Talking others down from suicide
And hating every reassuring word
That comes out of my lying mouth

I've spent countless hours
Staring at myself in the mirror
And working on my smiles and laughs
So that they seem real and authentic

And I've spent countless hours
Regretting all these hours wasted
 Feb 2015 Kevin James Barnard
eb
Before:
Let's do this.

During:
1. I am selfish, I say, sometimes.
2. Cake is not enough, I must have tea too.
3. Books pile up on the shelves still not plenty enough.
4. Its me, sitting on the porch
5. The waves, crashing in, but I'm not by the sea

After:
Let's never see each other again.
I want to fall asleep
And never wake up
Because the nights
I dream of you
Are the nights
I am at peace
Next page