Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2021 Bob B
Lorraine Colon
Are you still recalling that dispute
You had days ago with a loved one?
It's time unkind words were rendered mute,
Lay them in their grave -- what's done is done

What anguish a quarrel can dispense!
A snide remark, then a **** reply;
Do those hurtful words still cause offense?
Bind them to swift wings and let them fly

Time alone cannot heal broken hearts
Or bring comfort to a shattered soul;
Gently gather all the broken parts,
Mend them with Love's threads to make them whole

Focus on the things that make you smile ---
Words and deeds that make happiness flow.
When bitter thoughts taunt you with their guile
Toss them to the wind and let them go!
 Dec 2019 Bob B
Lorraine Colon
I often wonder, when Death seals my eyes,
Who will read my poems, who will analyze
Every word and thought that dripped from my pen
As angels wept and softly sighed Amen

Many eyes will see just meaningless words
That flounder in their minds like wounded birds;
But dare I hope for but one astute heart
Able to translate my crude form of art!

While reading my words, he'll breathe a deep sigh,
Sensing each torment as it marches by:
Loneliness, with many a sleepless night,
Tears that clouded the moon's radiant light,
Prayers intended to shake Heaven's rafters
But never yielding "happy ever afters,"
Carefully planned dreams, all destined to fail
Like ill-fated plots in a fairy tale

Will these rhyming words so carefully wrought
Clearly illustrate the love that I  sought?
Then down his sorrowful face tears will flow,
Having realized the depths of my woe

And if his tears were to dampen the soil
Where I lie in rest, set free from life's toil,
Will I know he took pity on my plight,
Thus granting peace in my eternal night?
 Dec 2019 Bob B
Lorraine Colon
How long has it been since you've heard
Someone declaring their love for you?
Why are we not prone to say the word
That removes clouds tinged with sorrow's hue?

If you love someone, tell them so,
Bring a banquet to them, served with wine,
From their hungry hearts the thanks will flow
As on love's sweetest verses they dine

If you feel love, say it today,
For tomorrow is promised to none;
If you can chase but one cloud away,
Sorrow will be lost, and new hope won

Say it today, empty your heart ---
When those thoughts are suppressed, they might die;
Release the joy loving words impart,
Pull back the bow, let love's arrow fly

Say it today, make someone smile,
Erasing both despair and malice;
Give them reason to find life worthwhile,
Let them drink deeply from love's chalice

Say it today -- throw a lifeline
To a heart drowning in misery,
Say those loving words that ring divine,
And send them ......... Special Delivery!
 Nov 2019 Bob B
Terry Jordan
trump better watch out
he better not cry
Better not shout
Impeachment is nigh
More indictments coming-no doubt!

Conspiracy lists
Repeating them thrice
Gonna tweet out
What’s naughty, not nice…
donald trump’s Impeachment’s in town!

We see you when you’re tweeting
We know that you’re up late
We see that you’re a shameless hood
Can’t be good for goodness sake!

Oh! trump’s Treason’s come out
he’s starting to cry
he already shouts
Calls putin his guy…
donald trump-on Airforce One-leaves town!
After the Impeachment hearings this week, I'm imagining trump escaping town via Airforce One...
 Apr 2019 Bob B
Bill MacEachern
Man From Manhattan

There once was a man from Manhattan
Whose piggy bank his Dad did fatten
He had tiny hands
For such a large man
But that never kept him from grabbing

By Bill MacEachern
Limerick
 Apr 2019 Bob B
Lorraine Colon
I observe the world through tear-filled eyes
As deceitful bounders don their disguise,
Pretending to care for the down-trodden,
Their pledge of compassion soon forgotten

But I cannot help but answer the cry
Of the hopeless whose lives have gone awry,
Marooned on Life's sea, left with but one oar,
Why am I compelled to pull them ashore?

It pains me to hurt any living thing --
Rather than **** a bee, I'd let it sting;
In my heart I know this is who I am ---
A willing martyr, a sacrificial lamb

Can this be choice? The instinct is so strong,
This astute awareness of right and wrong;
Perhaps in my reasoning I'm blundering,
But such principles leave me wondering:

Kids who tear wings off of butterflies ----
Is this a behavior they can revise?
Is this really free will, or do you suppose
Just inherent traits that we can't oppose?

I can't help but think choice is preordained,
At birth some dark souls with evil are stained,
While others carry their cross up the hill.
Do we really choose . . .  do we have free will?
 Aug 2018 Bob B
Brent Kincaid
I keep on telling the truth,
You know, like you never do.
I call you by name and say
All I say about you is true.
I wrote poems about you,
What the hell do you want?
You ignore all I have said
You ignore all my taunts.

I want you to sue me
Then with proof that you lie
The world can finally rest
And bid you goodbye
As they drag your fat ***
Off to Leavenworth jail
Where you won’t have Twitter,
Internet or even email.

I hope you get convicted
As the Corrupter In Chief
Because you are nearly
The worst kind of public thief.
You steal from the poor
And have kidnapped children,
And you  think your cowardice
Is a secret and is hidden.

Daily I hope someone intelligent
Will go sue you for defaulting
On the promises you made us
That have been obviously insulting.
You broadcast your hatred for us if we
Are not rich, perverted Republicans.
Now you are reversing all the good
That decent people have done.

I am ashamed of the millions
Who act like you are Jesus
When it’s as plain as your nose
You are like an obese Rhesus.
I’m sorry so many people are nuts,
Too weak-minded to recognize
What an ugly fate for America
You are unveiling before their eyes.
 Apr 2018 Bob B
Brent Kincaid
I want to write such words
That can reach out and teach,
And share with the world
What I have found on beaches
And mountain passes, in cities
And the countrysides, like music;
Lilting songs without tunes
But such that please any critic
And help them learn to sing
Even when there is no melody,
Experiences that changes them
To symphonies from threnodies.

I want to help everybody hear
The jigs and tarantellas here
Made from words that keep
Their lively memory very near,
That we may subtly hear it
And love it and treasure
Every beat, rest and thought
In every verbal measure,
So they can ride along with
An orchestra often unheard:
The precious gift to us all,
The magnificent spoken word.

I have set my sights on this,
The mission I have chosen
And shall make it my quest to
Insure my stride is not broken.
Not everyone is given the gift
To say what they deeply feel,
It falls to those who can speak
To show others what is real,
Or what may just be tinsel
And what is golden, or wrong.
Thus is the fate of our poets
To parse it in poetry and song.
I wrote this for you, but also for every poet you will ever know.
 Apr 2018 Bob B
Brent Kincaid
We raised ours hand with others
And shared the grand hurrah.
We marched with them if we could
Amazed at what we saw.
Sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers
Half a million in the demonstration
A solemn gathering of protest
In the capitol of a grieving nation.

We came together, raised our voice
In major cities, and small towns.
This time we would not allow
The corporations to shout us down.
We carried signs that told the truth
In a fewest words we could write
That enough was enough and this was
A battle we had just begun to fight.

We shouted our children deserved
Not to die in their childhood school
And demanded that the government
Changed their wrongheaded rules.
We let them know across the land
The many of us were voting soon
And we would throw them out if they
Didn’t dance to a different tune.

We told them it was time they knew
That we saw through their faults
And that this country needed to
Outlaw weapons of mass assault.
We let them know we were through
With what they called leadership
That we would gladly send them home,
A much needed one-way trip.
I submitted this to our local newspaper (The Garden Island) and they published it. So did The Blue Route.
Next page