Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
8
 Nov 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
8
She was dead before she was born.
What a cold heart,
She's never warm.
She found the world, but it was broken.
She found love, but it was wasted,
Like the man.

And they say the devil's sword is the coward's cop-out,
But death makes cowards of us all.
"To be, or not to be, that is the question"
To be! The coward's reaction,
To not! Fierce condemnation.
 Oct 2013 Kai McC
Helen
Hi this is Helen. I can’t get to the phone right now
because, well, I think I’ve finally found sleep!
So leave me your name, your message is important to me.
Just wait for the beep

…………

Hi, it’s Darcy…. Ummm I’m sorry I had to cut and run
but, you see, I’m nearly 16 and well Mum…
I’ve got to go there is a big bad world out there
to explore. Mum, I love you more

…………

Hi, baby girl, it’s your Daddy and I’m really sorry
that I have to tell you over the phone that I’m
not going to be here in six months, you know,
the cancer, well it’s grown but that’s enough
about me. What beautiful sights in the world today
did you see? I love you

…………

Hi Helen, I’m sorry I missed your birthday yesterday
And being your best friend and all I should have been
there, but well, you see, there’s this guy and he’s
super special and if I’m not around him I know I’ll
just die, what do you think of me with him, what
should I do?…. Oh, Happy Birthday, I love you

…………

Helen, this is God and I’m umm, really sorry I
haven’t been around much to make you smile
I haven’t been ignoring you but admit it… You
haven’t talked to me in a while… What I’m trying
to say is that if you just give in and take the bitter
pill I’m trying to make you swallow then we could
maybe start again. Hey! I’ll just ring you tomorrow

…………

Talk to the face!

Erase
another oldie... sometimes I find that some event in my life will trigger me to look up one of my old poems to re post...
 Oct 2013 Kai McC
Terry Collett
At the back
of the brick bomb shelter
out of window view
on Saturday morning

before the matinée
Fay pulled up the hem
of her yellow dress
to show Baruch

the bruises
and red marks
her father had made
and all because

she didn't know
the Credo in Latin
all the way through
Baruch stared quickly

then she let down the hem
and said
don't tell no one
else I'll be for it

I won't say a word
he said
what the heck
is the Credo?

she looked at him frowning
you don't know?
no idea
he said

it's the I Believe prayer
and we Catholics
are supposed to know it
all through

but my father
wanted me to know it
all in Latin
but I couldn't get it all

and he got mad
and punished me
she said
I believe what?

he asked
I believe in God
the Father and so on
she said

I'm Jewish
Baruch said
we have our own prayers
not that I can recall

any of them
I do
she said
but Latin is hard

and the nuns say it
all the time in their prayers
and one nun hit me
with a ruler for mistakes

and said I was lazy
Baruch shrugged his shoulders
glad I aren't Catholic then
he said

now what about
the cinema matinée?
you coming?
my father said

I was to stay in
all weekend and practice
but my mother said
go and enjoy

so you are coming?
he asked
Fay nodded
yes guess I will

what about your old man?
he's away for the day
in Liverpool
and Mum said

she'd cover for me
good for her
he said
she pulled her dress tidy

and he pushed his fingers
through his dark brown hair
and they climbed over
the metal fence

surrounding the grass
and bomb shelter
and walked under
the railway bridge

and up the narrow road
behind the cinema
Baruch in his jeans
and red cowboy shirt

his silver looking
six shooter
tucked in his belt
walking beside her

looking out for bad guy
or Injuns
making sure
none scalped him or her

with their tomahawks
riding their invisible horses
across the bomb site
but none came

so he could relax
knowing she
and he
would be all right.
SET IN LONDON IN 1950S.
 Aug 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
Sick
 Aug 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
I'm not sure if this is
A sickness of the mind or
Of the body.
Not sure if this cough is
Me spitting regret.
Not if this scar is
Real or imagined-
If I lost my voice or
I can't speak.
 Aug 2013 Kai McC
Jessica
They watch the world,
with open eyes.
They haunt the world,
with an open mind.
They see you move,
as you live in this world.

But behind these walls,
lies a deep dark universe.
One where the light can't shine through.
A world where they lurk,
they play and hide.
Behind these walls, there's a world inside.

If you dare to look,
or even hear.
Go ahead face your fear.
You'll join this world,
one cruel day.
So sad it'll be...
But they can't hear you say...

Behind these walls,
lies a deep dark universe...
One where the light can't shine through
A world where they lurk,
and play and hide...
Behind these walls, there's a world inside.....
This was originally an idea for a song I had. It's kind of spooky if you ask me! I hope you enjoy this. It's true. Behind these walls, there's a world inside...
 May 2013 Kai McC
Kalei Bumatai
Sometimes I wish I saw life through rose colored glasses
Maybe then it’d be easier to deal with all the masses
Life is hard and that’s exactly how it should be
don’t take it for granted or you’ll be left in the dust, right next to me

I wish I didn’t see the bad, I wish I saw only good
there’d be no such thing as tears
No such things as fears
No “Miss Understood”

If I only saw the good in people, places and things,
I’d enjoy even the tragedy that life always brings

I wouldn’t have to think about all the past that someone else has
Or the road they have traveled
I’d welcome them with a smile instead of a metal-woven wall hoping to be unraveled

I wouldn’t have to worry about what you say, if it’s true
I’d only have to look you in the eye with ease and say I believe you
I wouldn’t have to hike up my skirt to wade through your old memories
I wouldn’t have to compress mine down to fit inside my own personality
Luck wouldn’t be rare and happiness would be stapled to your birth certificate
But that’s not how it is, no matter how you choose to see it

You choose to turn away from the reality of life
Turn your face away from the dark and attach it to the light
I wish I was as lucky as you
To look up to the sky and to always see bright blue
But me, I see the rain, I see the clouds
I see the monsters that you try to block out

I see little girls and their dolls with chopped off heads
I see little boys who are afraid to fall asleep in their own beds
I see loving souls that are forced to be ashamed of themselves
and I see thoughts and ideas left on dusty shelves
Sadness behind eyes that I can’t even begin to explain
Those on the streets just begging for change
Whether it be gold coins or the human race
We’re all begging just the same
Mothers who’s arms just couldn’t hold tight enough
Fathers who’s hands just couldn’t work hard enough
Big brothers and big sisters who tried to set an example
Little sisters and little brothers who were nothing but a handful
The more you don’t see, the more I do
I wouldn’t look away even if you wanted me to
The trembling lips retracting their own words
The ears that are longing to hear the unheard

I could see what I want and not think what I don’t
The steed would be parked right outside my front door
The prince or princess would come in smiling
and I would be there at exactly the right place and exactly the right time

There would be only one for each of us and we wouldn’t have to make any choices
The correct door would be marked and we’d hear no misleading voices
The days would always be sunny and night, always calm
There’d be no more shots in the dark and no more lost on the run

Families wouldn’t fight, there would have never been a war
the streets wouldn’t be filled with whoever doesn’t have more
The rent would be paid, our plates would be full
there would be no need to work yourself to the bone

We wouldn’t have to lock our doors at night
and strangers on the road would never be carrying a knife
The only way to get a cut was asking for a piece of pie
and the only reason to cry was getting sand in your eye

I wish the worst thing I had to do was go to bed early
I wish I could just smile and pretend there’s no reason to worry

There’d be no jealousy
There’d be no hate
There’d be no reason to discriminate
Everyone would get what they deserve
Without hearing, “Boy, you’ve got some nerve”

Fairy tales would be labeled as “news” and crime wouldn’t exist
Firsts would be labeled as lasts and you’d marry your first kiss
There’d be no reason to relate to anyone you don’t know
And there wouldn’t be songs about sinking to a new low
If everyone wore rose colored glasses, the city would always look beautiful
And no matter who was sitting next to you, you’d probably say that they’re wonderful
No one would be down to earth, because they’d all be sitting in the clouds
We’d have no deep thinkers because no one would even know how
The past would be a brightly painted picture
with a brush made out of new beginnings and hope
The colors would be described as “great!”
And everyone would be looking through the exact same scope
No one’s past is painted that way, with only bright white light
Some pasts are drawn in pencil and tucked away from others’ sight
Some will be seen by prying eyes whether welcomed or not
Some aren’t even sketched and will never be given another thought
Your past is a part of you, don’t let anyone try to take that away
No matter if you wish they would, like I do, some days
Sometimes it hurts, even if it’s not you who made mistakes
But remember, that’s the beauty in it, the calm after the quake
Those rose colored lenses are laced with expectations and fairy tales
They let you see the good in people, even if it’s not there
The hard part isn’t wearing them, it’s taking them off that’s the challenge
Just know that it’s a risk, either way, if you have them.

Sometimes I think I have the power to switch them on and off
and I’m getting a little worn down from always feeling so lost
So those glasses I set on the table, I’ll pick them up again
Because I don’t want to see any more
You go grab your pair, and we’ll rename what they call “folklore”.
 May 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
It's kind of funny.
I see all these girls,
Beautiful girls,
Perfect hair,
Perfect body,
Perfect skin,
Talk of pain.
Write of pain.
Cry of pain.

But what of pain
Do they really know?
Don't love me,
They say,
I am broken-
I am insignificant-
I have walls-
And every man
Falls into their hand
Like they planned,
I suppose.

It angers me,
You see, for

I am lacking
Perfect hair,
A perfect body,
And perfect skin.
I talk of pain.
I write of pain.
I cry of pain but,

I am alone.
 May 2013 Kai McC
Miranda Renea
Dreams
Endure,
And
Time
Hangs.
Next page