Silly girl, don't cry alone.
Comfort is the soft murmur,
the gentle backrub,
and the cuddling
on a lumpy couch.

Silly girl, you cried alone
all those times
when you didn't have to.
Warm embrace, skin
pressed to yours,
holding you close,
the tears drip onto
covered shoulder
cold tiles a memory

Silly girl, fill yourself with happiness
after you let it all out,
instead of the chilly air
you **** up with desperation,
when you cry alone.

Everybody died today,
metamorphosis - never completed.
Maturity entrapped the folks,
even the children, teeny, tiny babes,
The stars never danced in their eyes;
the sky wouldn't allow Starry Nights.
I only ever told stories, those Wisdoms
passed on from my grandpap,
dissed in the corners of the streets,
I look up for my internal stars
and wish these people would combust
and finally clear the air
so my grandpap could breathe.

he only wanted to be heard


7/30/14
PPropper

I can't hear the words
you never said. And you don't answer
the questions in my eyes. A silent
understanding is beyond our wits-
I only ever wanted a hug.


5/13/14
PPropper

I have a hundred different memories of you,
a few more prominent than the rest,
but they're all good. I would tell you them,
but that would take hours, so I'll skip ahead.
The ending's the same, anyways (you won't miss much)-
You're The Best! are always the last three
words. I also want to say, I appreciate you,
because I know I can always rely
on you. And I love you, and I wish you
the Happiest Mother's Day!

5/10/14
PPropper

As you write you are hundreds.
Become the thief, murderer, and sacrificed.
You stand at the crossroads,
leading the sheep
and angry bulls.

Feel for the nemesis,
Feel for the grandfather --
their fluttering leaves of childhood worries.
You must feel from the heart for the sad.

"Help Us"
"**** Them"
You stand with one foot on each side
of that line drawn in the sand
with chalk.

Write, because in the pages
a rose is a poison, a city is a flower,
and the truth can leak from the pages,
and the fingers of the reader will absorb
and carry the truths to the heart.


Poppy P.
8/24/14

I think "we are the hands of God"
but look to see ungodly people
ignore the signs for acts of Grace.

I think they think "why help these people
who do not help themselves?"
and I speak not the will of Jesus,
But of economy and inability,

"guide the lost and care
for the helpless."

They question God's presence,
scoff "some Master Plan"

but you cannot blame God
when our people are starving,
for he has provided us with plenty
if we would only split it together.

Each unanswered trial
is a lesson for someone,
an opportunity to reach out
and correct others, teach others.

I look around and think
"He must have great faith in us,
to hear us use His name in vain,
and still trust us to help
the children in this world walk."

I look and do not ask
for a kneeling prayer,
but for God's hands
to be used united in peace.


6/3/14
edited 7/29/14
P. Propper