Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jul 2012
Sacrelicious
Being on dirt's level
looks nice
when you're
six feet under.

I just want to break even.
Or break your fingers.

Whatever the Lord,
let's me do.

I'm hoping he's feeling vengeful today,
too.
 Jul 2012
Seán Mac Falls
I sit under the ancient apple tree,
My heart is low, my head in the clouds,
The day is slowly ending, I am sleepy
When visitors arrive, little buds come,
Raining down on me— a cadre
Of red-headed finches.
 Jul 2012
Ahmad Cox
Everything in life
Every moment
Is here
Right now
Everything is here
Everything you need
Is right here
Right now
You just have to know
How to access it
We all know the truth
Its inside of our hearts
Everything is right here
Right now
Everything you need
Is right inside inside your soul
Inside your mind
Inside your heart
You just have to seek
And you shall find
 Jul 2012
Paul R Mott
A bone breaks but the body stays whole.
A heart breaks for another but their bond
remains whole.

In the heartbreak of love
there lies a glimmer.
A shimmer that nestles in the eye
of the broken
until it glares out the ugly,
broken truth;
and only leaves the pleasant lies
in these saccharine eyes
there is a better truth and a better life
for the broken.

The truth is for the whole
and the whole crowds out the broken
until no more truth remains
for the countless few who lay claim
to little
and claim affection for less.

So in this strange ether
there is no longer a choice
for either truth or happiness.
There is only the light in the distance
filled with happiness
and thus, spilling forth truth.

Truth will never set a soul free.
A soul never yearns for freedom
while their mate stays captive.

It’s the shackles of the everyday
that bond us to one another
and strip us down to our core
until all that’s left is the truth.

So this truth is not universally accepted.
It is not shouted from the rooftops.
This truth of the heart can’t be found in a book.
The truth we all find at the tip of our tongue
is best found with the last breath before
exhaustion.
In that last breath before we join our Creator
Is the essence of our being;
and in this discovery, we find who we are meant to be.
 Jul 2012
Seán Mac Falls
My hands are raw and cracked like wind and wood,
My arms, they sway and dance all day in my boat,
My neck is sore from watching you, above me play,
You, great mountains of tree and stone, give me hope.
 Jul 2012
SweetCindy
Saying my "goodnight"s to God my prayer inadvertently strays
As my mind starts to wander in a million different ways.
I reflect on where we started thousands of years in the past,
When our first parents made a poor choice with consequences that would a long time last.
Imagine:
Not having to pray to God thru Christ his son
But rather speaking to him as a friend one-on-one.
As you walk in your garden with no property bounds
You delight in the peace with the animals & the variety of sounds.
But alas that deadly bite they took
And the hope of everlasting life forsook.
Their once perfect bodies now began to decay
And onto their offspring this curse did relay.

So the wheels in my head now spin
To my inheritance of sin
And my determination to overcome
The inherent sin to which most succumb.

Though the enemies try to fight
To bring me down with all their might
I know there is a stronger power
A refuge & strong tower
Into which I'm able to run
When my own strength is done

Because although we're born from them
God's word like a precious gem
Promises that to us he will incline
Because between our sin & perfection is a fine line.

He made us in HIS image out of love
Exercising His power from the heights above
Instantly displaying His justice when His purpose was diverted
In His infinite wisdom knowing His true lovers could not be converted.

Promising to us he would restore
Conditions of the Earth as they were before
Paying with the life of his Son the ultimate price
So that all exercising faith could once & always live in Paradise..

© 2012
 Jul 2012
Rickie Louis
If all were created,
before a finger lifted,
all'd be done...
Before a single word be said,
Every creeping crawling thing'd be dead.
No speaking laws, or slaughtered alters,
Or sacrificing ****** daughters.
No ill lessons, of omnipotence,
Omnipresence or deviance,
The vastness of life and time,
Are much too large, to be defined,
By one who's greatness greater than all,
To know we're here, or rule at all,
It's too far fetched to believe it's true,
There's one above, all around, watching you.
And say a god of sorts is real,
Say christ is god what would you feel,
To know his book is spoken true,
To be applied in all you do,
Word for word and verse by verse,
Forever there to be rehersed,
With jealousy and angry might,
His reasons are, beyond our sight,
His omnipotence we can't define,
His intelegence, beyond our mind,
******, ****, and slavery,
plagues and death, so hard to see,
The fact he made this all for us,
From each bright star, and nucleus,
just to cast us in a pit,
A fiery hell, a suffrage.
None of it, It makes no sense,
And think most don't believe in chance.
Now close your eyes, and just believe,
Blindly follow each page you read,
For faith is something you must have,
To not see past this broken path,
Of lies and hopes in false intent,
It's god who man came to invent.
Here's a law he wrote himself,
One of ten, to show us help,
And thou shalt worship one alone,
But now there's christ who claims his thrown.
A contradiction from the start,
O how this truth broke my poor heart,
He created all in just six days,
A sabbath rest I'm so amazed.
A day to gods a thousand years,
So look at this, And shed no tears,
He made us in all knowing ways,
But so confused within just days,
He changed his mind, his laws and story,
Then sent one down to claim his glory,
Then Lucifer, what was the point,
His purity, god did anoint,
Then jealousy and pride bestode,
But then again god had forebode,
Let alone freewill was not,
An angel had no choice to taunt,
Made to fill specific needs,
The devil had no other deeds,
God knows all, from start to end,
So if he's real, he's not a friend,
He doesn't love, or know all,
Or have salvation, when we fall.
A deity he is not,
Especially with how he taught.
There're better ways to plan a path,
Simplicity is easy math,
But who am I, I'm just a man,
Created by his clumsy hand.
I didn't wanna stop writing this one! So much to say on this topic.. Thanks for stopping by, I have plenty more to read if you enjoyed this. :) Don't forget to like or comment!
 Jun 2012
Seán Mac Falls
A tin cat plays guitar on the fires mantle,
The Eiffel tower is knitted to the wall
And trade paper books are loosely strewn,
Dropped about the french coffee table.
The poet, pearling with snowcapped eyes,
Filtering words on ivory keys he knows
The burled wood piano is not yet playing.
 Jun 2012
Loewen S Graves
nights take passion forth
into an abyss
of hundreds of arms
swirling under the weight of
bodies yearning
to connect

your destruction came
in moments, you fell beneath them
and growled, you were
the rabid beast
hiding in my closet
or behind my bathroom door
waiting to spring,

and you and i,
we fell for each other
like children, we fumble in the dark
like teenagers, we talk through every movement
like we've known this dance for years, years, years;

my hands, they're too small
to spread over your heart
like i want them to.
your hands, far too big
to cradle my face between them
like you meant them to.

we make it work
in the darkest of ways,
the black hole in the floor
of our bedroom
opening up
to swallow us
whole.
paper cuts and trails aside
make a wish and hold it tight,
this time we'll try our hardest
not to try --

(sleeping at last)
What blaze of fury has brought such decay?
Translucent hearts are all the color this picture
of hate. Can you see the broken ones? Can you
smell the hopelessness they wear like some
expensive perfume? Watch them cower and scamper
through bushes. Hiding their scorched skin like it's
something obscene. Watch as they scatter like marbles
from a child's circle. Building fire from scraps of oh-so
precious wood. Their smoke clouds the almost
non-existent breeze. What would their ancestors say?
Would they blush at the ***** rawness of this world?
Would they gasp at the events that brought us here?
Does it even matter? In the end the grass
is gone. The trees have died and the flowers have
fallen. Tell me what is sacred about this.

Where is the god you prayed to?
This started as a warm up exercise in my creative writing class. We had three words we had to incorporate, and then as we wrote the teacher would add another word we had to use every minute or so. Enjoy :]
 Jun 2012
Seán Mac Falls
Dear Pablo, as I look over
my soaking body, wet, with patches
of dirt, blotched and raw bleeding,
the clouds turn in my yellowed eyes
in order to love you, my Pablo.  
You, who made me feel radiant.  
As I am the sea,  I fish for you,
rolling in mud, and becoming
mountain, I topple for your toes
who'd dig in deep and itch my aching

breast to sleep.  My dreamful-drowsy
birds, rake the skies, rush-out like nets
wanting you on their wings, my poem.
Pablo, I loved you so when you said,
my flowers were little stars to pick,
and that loneliness was a train who waits
in a far-away station, and how, my most
minuscule attributes — a cat, a pear,
the atom, you praised, in odes, heaped
like showers hailed from heaven, as fresh-

water you reigned from the other side
of tears, and temper'd my salt, my green,
murky life.  Dearest Pablo, since you've gone,
my breath has the emptiness that hides under
stone.  And the blue-winds crossing, my life-
less age, they are nothing but long waves,
keening,   —  Nay   —  rood   —   ahhh!
Since you have left me.  And my trees,
they forget how to grow,
my song, my only,
Pablo.
 Jun 2012
Seán Mac Falls
Flies in the haze morning sputter and splay.
Water drops from leaves rolling with the blown
Blades. The windy whoo of the owls fade,
Blue buried eyes cradled in the hollow
Trees, the swamps seeker is quietly rustled,
Wings of panoply, spangle-speckle the wind,
Over the flames of autumn, talons thistle,
Crown the dominion of the fall, fade in
Sporting meadows colour, till the dive,
Balm of field, marsh, all ignites. Lever pale
Winds finger through the leaves gravely
And rake as you raid, shoulders that burning vale,
Casualties of insect, the lemming song sings
Mouse and vole flash, dark, sparkles the clearing.
 Jun 2012
Seán Mac Falls
The coastal shoals are your dominion.
No salmon, or smelt, nor bottom flounder
Had ever left the sea until you struck,
You are wraith to the kelp beds dream.
Next page