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 May 2015
Roger Turner - Poet
The tourists all jostle for a look at the falls
At the point where the water just drops
It goes over the edge, crashing down far below
And then it's all over, it just stops

But, further up river before the falls are in sight
Where the river's hypnotic, dull and oh, so boring
The dark voices are waiting, hiding and calling
This is the place that the powers are storing

Beware the dark voices
They come and they go
They infect your mind
You've heard them, you know
The dark voices are different
But, they always are there
Turn away from their callings
And as always....beware

A dark, gloomy bar on the wrong side of town
Where the waitresses all dance for their tips
A strip joint so defined, but really not so
This is where one's morality slips

A sniff of a perfume, so fragrant yet cheap
Blurs your connection to the ring on your hand
The dark voices are calling, telling you things
Get the waitress and prove you're a man

Beware the dark voices
They come and they go
They infect your mind
You've heard them, you know
The dark voices are different
But, they always are there
Turn away from their callings
And as always....beware

You've returned from  a movie, back to your home
You must now take the babysitter back
Your wife stays home waiting for your return
But, with the babysitter you kind of lose track

You see a young body, and a glimpse of her breast
She crosses her legs, but you don't look that far
You share idle chatter, as you flirt like a kid
And you take the girl to the back seat of the car

Beware the dark voices
They come and they go
They infect your mind
You've heard them, you know
The dark voices are different
But, they always are there
Turn away from their callings
And as always....beware

The voices keep coming, just block them out
They feed on your weakness and pain
You have to ignore their pleadings to break down
For nothing good comes of them, there's nothing to gain

Jump in the water, go over the falls
Go with the dancer, surrender your life
Lay down with the baby sitter
Feel the voices twist the knife

Beware the dark voices
They come and they go
They infect your mind
You've heard them, you know
The dark voices are different
But, they always are there
Turn away from their callings
And as always....beware
 May 2015
Mercurychyld
Wars for so-called religion,
Children, people starving
under ****** regimes
and dying on the streets.

Tsunamis, Landslides, Hurricanes,
Tornadoes, Erupting volcanoes,
Floods, Avalanches,
Deadly storms destroying
all that stands in their path.

A world where there is a
constant barrage of evidence
of a universal acceptance of
abuse against women
and children.

Evil men, leading cities
and countries,
establishing  selfish,
convenient rules and laws,
often under the guise of
“safety” and “terrorism
deterrant”.

*******; all of it!

Men whose rich pockets
are bursting at the seams
and whose bank accounts
get bigger and fatter with each
sick, sordid war.

Cures that exist for painful,
life-degrading diseases,
afflicting the most fragile
of our human society, and
BIG BUSINESS and
the Pharmaceutical masters
blocking them from the masses.

They MUST  maintain a
bread-line of the tragically
ill to continue
creating addicts, convinced
that they will always need
their almighty drugs to
live and survive.

Rapists, pedophiles, terrorists…
all welcome,
all find a home here,
where the prey is aplenty.

Jobs and wages,
taken away from the citizens
trying to feed and clothe
their families,
being replaced by robots
and drones.

What is a man to do?
How does a single mother
feed her young?

The rich get richer on
the backs of the little people;
the poor fall by the wayside…
modern day LEPERS,
mistreated, shunned
and scorned.

Beat down to the
lowest levels of this
demented humanity.

Evil is a gluttonous
predator who never
gets its fill.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
 May 2015
Mercurychyld
There has to be a better way.
There has to come a better day.
Can’t find much cause to want
to stay.

Deep in thought about the things
and happenings of life today.

Dreaming of a place where everything
will finally feel okay.

No more ills or aches
or rabid dismay.

Always searching for a reason…
to want to stay.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
Here rests a future
Untouched and eager
for light
Wanting to exude its aromas
of which I neither looked
nor cared.

She handed me the match
fresh, burning bright,
a new sense in my familiar room.

Baffling confusion
overtook as I blew her match
so stubborn
to extinguish
in a faint stream of
smoke still thinning.

Was I
the stubborn?

Subsequent darkness
overtaking
Once a sweet home
Now a paralyzing loneliness.

Match burnt, candle gone
future still…

Will another offer to
light my dark corners
--myself willing,
with a newfound scent?

A day may come
to end my night,
but I only care to see
the one I once hid from.
 May 2015
Pranav kastury
His feet scorched on the burning embers, treaded,
As he sifted through the Nightmares he dreaded.
Weaving his way in and out through the debris,
Cutting himself as he raced for the ferry.
He paused, panting to catch his breath,
And let his eyes sink in the surrounding death.

And behold, what a sight he saw,
Human flesh cut, bleeding and raw.
Mountains of  bodies piled up with Sin
Naked and writhing amidst the splitting din.
And the gong of the bells from the deep chasms,
Resonating with the screams of the dyings' spasm.
Screaming and kicking they went up in flames,
Beggars and kings, lads and dames.

Stumbling he began to brave the road,
Hoping and praying he would reach the ford.
With each step his strong virility,
Started showing signs of debility.
Urging himself to reach the ford,
Where waited the ferryman on his ferry aboard.
He purged all the sinned who embarked,
The magnificent ship on the banks, parked.
Leading them on the infernal waves,
Over the lofty hills and the deepest caves.
Until they reached heavens door,
Freeing them from the sights of blood and gore.

As he ran, he saw high atop a tree
Whose branches were stripped off leaves, free.
A large bird with molten black eyes,
Gorging on both men and mice.
He saw that it was a vulture
Tearing a man and leaving his lungs rupture',
Quickening his pace he crept away from the bird,
Camouflaging himself with the dying herd.
Thinking he had passed the demonic beast,
Who was busy helping itself to its feast,
He slowed down and moved with care,
Only to be stopped by a shriek high in the air.

He looked up with great unease,
With sweaty eyes and shaky knees.
The vulture jumped up with a great swoop,
And circled the man in a closed loop.
"My, my," it cried, landing next to its target,
"Are you trying to escape my food market?"
"No, no!" He whimpered and crowed in fear.
"You will not reach the ford, my dear."
Said the vulture in a pitched cacophony,
"you will not hear the heavenly symphony,
As one draws close to one's destiny,
For the feral beast in me,
Will not allow you to let it be."
"Please," he cried. "Let me see,
What is meant for me."

The vulture roared in laughter,
Cawing and rocking faster.
So much it was immersed in mirth,
That it didn't see its prey of large girth,
Try to slip away precariously,
From the gaze of the bird which was nefariously,
Waiting for the moment to take the plunge
And drive its beak through the man with a lunge.

With a shriek, it jumped up in flight,
Spreading its demonic wings blocking the light.
Swooped down at the man and spread its wings,
Opening its beak as it sings,
The death hymn that flowed from his beak crescent
Echoing through the emptiness as it made its descent.
The man gazed in fear at the looming death,
With unblinking eyes and taut chest held with breath.
Looked up to the heavens and screamed "God!"
The vulture chuckled and reached its prey, with eyes agog.
Covered the man with its monstrous plumes,
With its beak dripping of drool, in flumes.
Drove it deep into the mans heart,
And made him part of its food mart.
this is the first poem I have penned and I hope its appealing to all sorts of viewers, as it is very brutal and gory
 May 2015
Roger Turner - Poet
There's blue birds on my windowsill
And there's no rainbow in the sky
No brick road painted yellow
But, there's still blue birds here that fly

There's challenges at every turn
Not involving men of tin
You still need heart on this side
Unless you lead a life of sin

The road is not a brick one
Not where I live, I must say
But to live life still takes courage
Though there's no lion in my way

Life does not come easy
Not on this side of the rainbow sky
You have to use your brain o'er here
And keep asking why, why, why?

There's is life over the rainbow
But there is life on this side too
They say the grass is always greener
But, remember...we've also birds of blue.
"Hah. I wish I was an alcoholic. So every now and then I could remind you all of the things that I've done for you.
All the pain & hardships that I had to go through. All the sacrifices that I had to make.
Just to have all of my expectations torn apart by you.
I wish I could twirl my whiskey the same way you twirl me with your fingers. I wish you would realised just how lucky you are.
But out of everything I wish you'd realise all of those things by yourself.
If you'd take some of your dear time out of your own problems and maybe, just maybe ask me how my day was. Cause right now I'm on the brink of going back to that 'dark' place. A point where one would consider me twisted and deranged,
The worst kind of person you could find.
Oh, how I wish you would realise every little thing that I've done and consider me more than just an option.
Don't try to deny that.
All of this time I've been nothing but committed to you.
If only you'd have realised it much sooner, I wouldn't have to leave.
All those nights when you were alone and you'd call me up and I'd try my best to be there on the line with you. All those times when you needed someone and I'd text you back in just a few minutes no matter where I was or what I was doing. All those nights I'd make sure you didn't go to bed upset. All those times I fought with people I loved & cared for, for you. All those times I did things for you without you knowing.
All those times I tried not to love you.
I want to let you onto so many things but all you give me is disappointment and heartbreaks and I can not tell you these either because I want you to figure these out yourself, how much it is that you're hurting me, and how far it is that I am willing to go for you.
I don't want to tell you these things and force you to do things for me.
I am tired of being a shadow.
I am tired.
I am tired of you.
I wish I had another toxic to help me gulp you down other than yourself."
**- Aks, Alcoholic //Naked Emotions.
As intense as it could get.
 May 2015
Roger Turner - Poet
The house is full of people
but, it doesn't feel the same
You're just going through emotions
You're just playing at a game

The kids are home to visit
Aunts and Uncles too
But, we're all moving in slow motion
No one quite knows what to do

The house has changed a little
Since we grew up in it back when
Life was all delivered
Girls were girls and men were men

There's a yard, and beyond a field
And past that there's a stream
We went there to smoke cigarettes
And we all went there to dream

Sitting in her easy chair, staring at the world
Inside her mind
If we had a look in there, would we be surprised
At what we'd find
Grandma sits alone and looks, no sound
Just vacant stares
No one talks to Grandma now,

The house, it has a wrap around
porch from front to back
it was built for conversation
there's no reason for a deck

we've grown up and all moved on
Just Grandma and the folks
The front yard has a wagon wheel
With two cracked and broken spokes


We're here for Grandma's birthday
She won't move and doesn't know
We'll eat cake and ice cream
Say good bye before we go

She won't come down to see us
Won't venture past the door
I'll sit and brush her hair out
But, we don't talk to her no more

Sitting in her easy chair, staring at the world
Inside her mind
If we had a look in there, would we be surprised
At what we'd find
Grandma sits alone and looks, no sound
Just vacant stares
No one talks to Grandma now,
 May 2015
Arcassin B
By Arcassin Burnham




Vasting in a guilt reality,
Carrying the souls of regret,
Feeling my feet and legs tremble,
Me and black corridor never met,
I was slower than I was before,
I had really settle,
Melting off me,
Need to run faster,
Its closing in,
And it takes the light away from existence,
Bring my life to an end.
Humm !!!t
 May 2015
Phil Lindsey
A Hundred years is nothing to an oak.
A Thousand to a mountain is a joke.
A Million to a solar system just exceeds its birth.
And we expect to make a difference in roughly eighty years on Earth?
PwL  5/5/15
 May 2015
Autumn
I hate that you have eyes for other girls besides me
not that you've ever had eyes for me
not that I know of
I hate that I'm not your main girl
that there's many others

why did you send her a picture of me when you think she's hot
were you trying to make her jealous
or you were just documenting things in your day

why do you cuddle with me and make me feel so special
like we're so close
and there's a chance at something more
and then go back to the other girls

why do you let me put my head on your shoulder
and tell me to come back when I decide to move
you make me feel like you actually crave my closeness
like you actually want me

why do you make me feel like the happiest ******* the planet
and make me feel like the crappiest person in the world

more importantly
why do I even feel this way for you
and how did I sink this deep into the ocean that's you
 May 2015
Ysa Pa
Heaven's feather
Grant me power
The strength to fly
And not to fall from the sky
The might to soar
The vigor to wander
In awe and in great splendor
Bless my feathers
Grant them power
Aid my wings to spread and roar
These feathers of the night
Open now, and and help end the fright
Lend your knowledge and might
Help spread the light
Wanting the path to be bright
Even though my heaven's feathers are wings of midnight
Sometimes we, wingless beings, just have to soar ^-^
 May 2015
Oaklee Ohmie
At your funeral, everyone that I passed said that I looked beautiful.
They said they were so happy to see me but so sad that it had to be this way.
They even said how my bloodshot, tear stained, tired eyes looked pretty and that they'd never even noticed how green they were.
But I couldn't thank them. & yes my eyes looked more green, but only because of the purple bags under them. & I wasn't glad to see them if all that came out of their mouths' was a shaky & mumbled, "I'm sorry," because they knew I was sorry too.
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