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  Jan 2017 SøułSurvivør
David Noonan
They all gather to the deadhouse
Like actors taking to a well trodden stage
Whether from London's' Kings Cross
Or the finery of NYC's Queens borough
Back to the fold all prodigal sons must return
To join with those that could never find a way
From this barren cold land and its insular bitter lies
All united now in a grief of one that has been lost  
All divided by a rivalry, a rumor, some generational feud
The priest commences his weary and over versed tone
As he summons his God, his Jesus and his Litany of Saints
Incense burns as a symbol of the prayer of the faithful rising
Yet rising no further than their hypocrisy descends

And where do you look when even Jesus lets you down
As you turn to wipe that burning tear from your face
One not born from holy water nor from their devils grace

Doors are opened and a captive audience awaits
A procession of mourners to take their turn to the stage
Heads bowed all and one, as hands are extended
In weak and feeble grips amid their mumbled exchanges
"Sorry for your loss" and "taken too soon"
None hesitate too long as they navigate this fallowed room
An occasional recognised face among a community of strangers
A moment of warmth emanating from this ritualistic parade
All gone too soon unlike those memories of years past
Of wanting to get out and get free, promising never to go back
Yet to the last of this line they swear that they remember you well
Whilst retiring to The Old Stand with promise of more stories to tell

Where the whiskey chasers flow like the Guinness on draught
Helping to swallow the lies on how good it is to be back
Rehashing of old platitudes but nothing really said

For no one shall ever speak ill of the dead
  Jan 2017 SøułSurvivør
Ma Cherie
In a world of fear and crime today,
well it's hard to see the good,
amongst a guarded people now,
who once together stood,
we focus on just what we can't,
instead of what we should,
say who can help our people out,
if anybody could?

I tell you this in shame for all,
that people here are dying,
adults and infants die alike,
in endless tears I'm crying.
while another child dies today,
from lies that we are buying,

I see the world as it should be,
where we all share our food,
instead we have a county now,
where commonplace is rude,
where elected is a president,
who's mouth is spewing crude,

A divided people always fall,
it will lead us to a death,
I will say we rise as one,
until my dying breath,

My poet heart,
can't take much more,
of a people lost in blindness,
as levied waters at our toes,
to stop it only kindness,

Wake up,
won't you,
selfish those,
with a frozen blinkless stare,

I hope if you were starving,
well I hope someone would share,
in every other bite they eat,
& everything they bare,

If alone and out there hungry
it's hard for some to beg,
with so many apathetic,
to a Humpty Dumpty egg,

They talk an talk in platitudes,
of goodness they don't mean,
stupidity a common voice,
like I have never seen,
where friends are disappearing here,
and the grass no longer green,

Not because their stupid,
though in ignorance,
is bliss,
while painful is awareness,
it is endless,
that abyss,

In a world of broken people,
& few who see the truth,
where ones who share are not believed,
or lost to us in youth,

We search to be enlightened,
or say something,
like the same,
while putting idle hands beneath us,
as our heads hang down in shame,
or we aim a bony finger,
point to someone else in blame,

We are too slow to awaken,
so we must wake up right now,
we must end in our division,
come together here somehow,
& I will keep on asking,
till my death in this I vow,
when I see a God & if he comes,
to him I'll surely bow,

Though here's the saddest story,
of a sweet and blessed child,
from his mother's womb he came,
all humble, meek and mild,
then crucified by greedy hands,
so lost in envy wild,

A baby dies in freezing temps,
a homeless camp his stable,
his barefoot Mother thinks he breathes,
to care for him,
unable,

Some say that she is crazy,
and they think it's even fact,
otherwise well why in hell,
would any woman act,
as if she's nuts or evil,
or with the devil made a pact,

As if her baby was a gift,
immaculate conception,
she says he is child of a God,
a unique an rare exception,
all she hears is yeah sure right,
and utter clear rejection,

Most don't care about her story here,
shooaway,
my listening ears,
they bury heads in comfy blankets,
to drown out the constant fears,
desensitized,
from worldly plight,
in what can draw their tears?

We are told that capitalism,
is the way up to the top,
money rooted all our evil,
to share would help it stop,

An ad hominem argument,
to argue truth of God,
& I'm sure if he exists at all,
he'd find it more than odd,

If he sent a child here to see,
if kindness here exists,
if 9 days old is all he had,
to raise an angry fist,

I couldn't say I'd blame him,
seems that no one gave a ****,
for a little dying baby,
just a sacrificial lamb,

If people who believe that Jesus,
he died for us our sin,
if they and every person,
treated strangers as their kin,
there wouldn't be a battle,
that together we can't win,
realize not to judge,
on say someone else's sin,

No mouth would ever hunger,
our strength as one would grow,
to a loving giving God,
in our kindness we would show,
doing what is right ,
is something we should know,

The money hungry people,
a machine who's way is lost,
who throws away the extras,
regardless of the cost,

Animals are moving on,
while Winters without snow,
smoggy skies to block the sun,
a hazy smelly glow,
the government says look away,
then puts on another show,
they can take another bow,
while hitting a new low,

I ask above an answer,
why WE do this to OUR people,
while my country is my church,
& my sky above,
the stepple,

It's not about religion now,
or right,
or wrong,
or hate,
there's only one way in to there,
behind the pearly gates,
our journey architected,
by our hands,
our only fate,

I implore you,
share in all you have,
before it's all too late.


Cherie Nolan © 2016
Crying for a nation today ;/ this actually happened yesterday in America. I do not discount God or Religion in any way - I just know we need to act here now. With love and kindness, gratitide & awareness, understanding and effort we can change the world. Please share today - idk if makes sense- ❤ VERMONT
  Jan 2017 SøułSurvivør
Terry Jordan
The sirens blared that 4th of July
Officer Duncan gave Mammy a ride
An emergency dash to the hospital
He’s 2 months premature Mammy cried

Deaf, dumb and blind is what the doctors said
To our mother when Sammy was born
But none of us kids ever were told
Until Sammy was stable and grown

Pappy declared that they’d both be fine
Not believing dire news doctors gave
We happily named him Uncle Sam
Trusting in him to be strong and brave

His 1st 5 months in an incubator
Hooked up to every device
In Newton Wellesley Hospital, 1959
A miracle saved his life

Reaching gloved hands through holes in the side
Weighing just a bit over 2 pounds
Looking more like a spindly ET
I was amazed to be hearing breath sounds

Sam worked on doubling his weight by Christmas
Nothing seemed easy or fast
Still Mammy survived the eclampsia
And Sammy went home at last

Returning a few years later
Sammy’s doctor she would find
To show off to all the nurses
Her son NOT deaf, dumb and blind

I so love my brother Sammy
Always felt like a sister and mother
I’d give all I have for the time
Just a minute more with my dear brother

I’d speak to you of those 57 years
Of the great whirligig you carved with your hands
All the times you showed up for me
Through the good and the bad our love stands

You wasted no time hating anybody
Children and dogs always your friends
Quick for a laugh despite any lack
I draw comfort that all your pain ends

The sirens blared once again for you
The ambulance came, the paramedics tried
Racing you trying to save you
All in vain, in the OR you died


Like Tommy’s rock opera is over
Perhaps you paused to speak to a stray dog
While keeping your divine appointment
By reaching right into the hand of God
Just blew out my candle in vigil for Sam, my baby brother, 12 years younger than me.  He died on the OR table as they tried in vain to save him after a tragic accident.  He’s in God’s hands now.  He had a military burial yesterday, the saddest day of my life, in the National Alleghenies veteran's cemetery.  Freezing cold & windy in Pittsburgh.  I so wanted to jump in that hearse and drive him back to Florida, like in the 'Cremation of Sam McGee' poem that I love.  I realize that was just his Earthsuit, and see him smiling in Paradise.
SøułSurvivør Jan 2017
Sometimes poets make mistakes
On these quite public sites
It causes great dissension
Brings on many fights
This is especially tragic
When the poet is a light
They are then maligned a lot
Their character a blight
What should have been a shining beam
Becomes as dark as night.

I am one such person.
I made a public show.
Partially due to ignorance
Of how internet stuff goes
Yes. I had my lapses.
But now I let the flow
Bless my faithful readers
I wish to bestow
Grace to other poets
Some of whom you know.
But some folk still malign me...
They do so on the low.

This has NOT been gracious.
Actually unfair.
Would YOU like your every deed
And ***** laundry aired?
I don't pretend to love folks here...
I actually care!
But some became a pitfall.
They'd rather be a snare.
Can you take my moccasins
And place your foot in there?

I have NOT been hiding.
Put pride on the shelf.
I have confessed many times
I TOLD ON MYSELF.

But there ARE those unforgiving.
They go around and "warn".
Their modus operandi
Is to cause a hornet's swarm
They don't care who they may hurt
They do a lot of HARM.

If someone is repentant
And has a humble heart
Comes only offering
To love and be a part
Wouldn't it be prudent?
Wouldn't it be smart?
To forget the past transgressions
And get on with our ART?

This does not apply to PLAGIARISTS
Those who do not SERVE
They ****** our brainchildren.
RUN DOWN, AND DO NOT SWERVE
If they are unrepentant
THEY GET WHAT THEY DESERVE.

That's it for my sermon.
That's all I have to say.
Let's start writing poetry

AND GET ON WITH OUR DAY.



♡ Catherine
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