Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jan 2013 Dayda Base
Infamous one
when you drink its all fun and games
till that day when death stares you in the eyes
drinking changes you hurts those around you
the day you change put down the bottle
the world is clear but doesnt make sense
the friends are gone because you guilt them the choice sober living
you call to hang but drinking is all the know
soberiety and alcohol cross paths but have no relation
some cant speak with a drink in their hand
the drink for liquid courage thaey convince you to join the party
you cannot go back because you made a self respecting promise
you could never and wont ever go back
the idea to take a sip might make you life slip into darkness
the world you plan of never living again
chance of change change for the better other ways to enjoy the world
not in a bottle or risking life in one deadly drink
Life for Sale, it's as good as new!
Hasn't seen many years, only a few!
Last owner couldn't handle it,
She had a huge fit.
She yelled and cried and screamed,
A new life is what she dreamed.
So she gave up and put hers up for sale,
hoping her plan wouldn't fail.

Life for sale! Only seventeen dollars!
What deal! It's practically a steal!
I must warn potential buyers though, that there's some baggage that will be bestowed,
It isn't much, it's a small amount,
But beware, it will make you cry, shout and pout!
It's depressing, distressing, and it's worth confessing
That this life isn't perfect but it is a blessing.
Two parents, and a roof over it's head,
All that's missing is just a meal and a bed.

Life for sale! Seventeen dollars and ladies and gentlemen, this price isn't going any higher...wait,
What's that?
We have a buyer!
 Jan 2013 Dayda Base
LD Goodwin
It all started with a feeling, I guess.
A guilty glance across the table......well,  you know the rest.
She said she had to find herself,  and I did my best
to talk her out of goin'.

Let's get some help, maybe talk to a priest.
I begged and I pleaded, got down on my knees,
but she was gone in a flash, like lighting in the trees,
and left me there a fallin'.

And I just wanna know one thing,
why do broken hearts still cling,
maybe it's my low self esteem
that made me still want you.

When a love is lost and gone,
with no hope of holding on,
even when you know it's wrong,
why would you want to be with someone
who doesn't want to be with you?

Like a trophy on a mantle, a bird in a cage,
like a dog on a chain who always gets away.
I tried to keep her with me, but she just wouldn't stay.
Now, what was I thinkin'?

Lessons must be learned the hard way,  I guess.
I know I'll love again.....well, you know the rest.
The right lover leaves you, when no love is left,
the wrong one keeps you sinkin'.
Ft. Walton Beach, FL  1992
 Jan 2013 Dayda Base
Tatiana
Crime
 Jan 2013 Dayda Base
Tatiana
Cry your eyes out,
till they're red and dry,
and no tears will escape,
those soulful eyes.

Lay your head down,
and wait for night to come,
where the peaceful dark,
will become your home.

Wake up to the morning,
and slowly rise,
your eyes feel dead,
yet your body is somehow alive.

Look into the mirror,
try to recognize your face,
let the feeling come back,
when you knew your place.

Cast aside those thoughts,
don't let them bother you,
get set for today,
because today is new.

It's time to fight back,
not silently but out loud,
your glares can combine,
with the strength of your words.

They will not get away,
with their games this time,
because your eyes will catch,
their every crime.
Some roads
are made to get lost in
this was one
it invited us
to wander blankly
without an agenda, without a destination
just following its undulating shady guidance
to nowhere in particular
to just walk on endlessly
sometimes noiselessly
sometimes talking nineteen to the dozen
but always moving
deeper and deeper
further along its contours

it haunts my dreams yet
it surfaces as a desire from the depths of my unconscious

this road,
and
that walk
when we got lost

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   18.01.2013
    Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
If you'd like to, you can see the photo of the road at : http://vijyalakshmiharish.tumblr.com/
A scale, something sharp enough
to cut deep, deep into feelings of
self-worth, of self image a object
that just by looking at rips away
at every ounce of confidence you
have every built up, you start at
the numbers hoping that you get
numb-er, praying that society gets
dumber because there are no words
to explain the hurt of looking at the
numbers that appear on the society
ridden scale. Where in the definition
of beauty, does it say skinny? where
in the idea of gorgeous does it show
a small waist and curves where they
see fit. At what point did we give
the media the power to control how
we feel about ourselves. where did society
get the power to make us, feel so powerless
Beauty is not a number, it is not a size
nor is it a hair, or eye color, or skin tone
people say that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
so please, take this opportunity to hold everything that you
are and everything that you will be, and realize
That you, are the most beautiful you can imagine.
You, are the New
definition of
Beautiful.
You look me in the eye
Say you love me
That's a lie

Everydays a new issue
And you break me up
Just another crumpled tissue

You promise me sweet thing in my ear
Then tell me that they were fake
Everything that I hear
Is putting my feelings at stake

How could you **** me like this
When I give you everything
How can you shove me
When I just wanted you to see

But you're blind
And just won't listen
I wish that I could find

I hate that I am drowning
And you don't even care

I hate that my words aren't ryhming
Because I can't see or hear through my tears

And my hands are shaking
Because I hate knowing you're here

And that you can hear my sobs
And you just don't.... Care
 Jan 2013 Dayda Base
P.K. Page
In love they wore themselves in a green embrace.
A silken rain fell through the spring upon them.
In the park she fed the swans and he
whittled nervously with his strange hands.
And white was mixed with all their colours
as if they drew it from the flowering trees.

At night his two finger whistle brought her down
the waterfall stairs to his shy smile
which like an eddy, turned her round and round
lazily and slowly so her will
was nowhere—as in dreams things are and aren't.

Walking along avenues in the dark
street lamps sang like sopranos in their heads
with a voilence they never understood
and all their movements when they were together
had no conclusion.

Only leaning into the question had they motion;
after they parted were savage and swift as gulls.
asking and asking the hostile emptiness
they were as sharp as partly sculptured stone
and all who watched, forgetting, were amazed
to see them form and fade before their eyes.
I am not a ****

It’s a shame

If that’s what you see

When you look at me

I’m not a gangster

Or a rapper

I’m not the images

Plastered all over T.V.

I’m respectful to women

I was taught this

By my mother

I’m willing to fight

If the cause is right

But mostly I’m a lover

…A good book

Despite

If you like

It’s cover

Compassionate

Thoughtful

And considerate

Of others

I’m not lazy

I'm not a thief

I'm not a criminal

Who runs the streets

I work at least

60 hrs. per week

And don’t be surprised

When you realize

I’m very articulate

When I speak

I’d rather read a book

Than shoot hoops

On a basketball court

Music is my passion

And I write poetry for sport

Love is my drug

And I put it

Into everything I do

It’s pure

Strong

And addictive too

I bet you won’t see that

On the news!

I am not a ****

So please don’t assume

You could be missing out

On a good friend

Don't let your preconceptions

Resume

Don’t keep your mind closed

Open up

…Make room



I'm not a ****

I am a MAN

Try to get to know me

Then you'll find out

Who I Am

— The End —