Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Strange
How little changes
Can bring about
A great divide

Once
Our humor was in sync
Now
Sometimes
I don't recognize you at all

I know we grow
and change
But...
I never thought
I would find
Your humor so repulsive

Funny
Queer even
How little changes
Can bring about
A great divide

As I ponder
This chasm
That has opened
Between us
I feel my heart
cracking
Well, maybe just a little
10/10/2014
Sad by changes I see in one I love
 Oct 2014 Paul Hardwick
Poetic T
I see it in the back of my
Eye lids
Its distorted images in my mind,
Thinking  I left the
Violence,
Anger,
Blood
Left was behind, but like a virus
It followed me home.
I see them, all of those
Lost,
Boxed,
Flag,
Covering fallen ones,
Brave brothers every single
One
Two
Three
Friends taking the silent
Trip home, eternal rest
"Why did they go,
"How did I survive,
I feel the guilt for surviving,
And they did not,
My life is a blur,
My angers getting to much.
I see those who have returned
And as I though, they also left
Pieces behind.
I am getting help, to cope
With what has followed me,
To try to make sense
To learn to let the anger subside.
"I am home"
But a part of me is
Always going to be their,
Not all of me, but a piece I never brought **home
~~~@~~~

i break
my chrysalid womb
into a realm
without
protection

my wings
are wet and stunted
cyan jewels lie dew'd
tourmaline
clusters upon the
veins

i'm only beginning
to learn the
nature of flight

i'm at my
most vulnerable
please
protect me
but don't assist me
in my struggle
to break

FREE

~~~@~~~

it took me
disolving time to
emerge
from my own
beautiful
amorphous mess
while I drew
my imaginal discs

i dreamt
of flowers
and their
everlasting
bursting colors

the
celestial skies
and soft
empowering
spring
breeze


~~~@~~~

as i push apart
my place of
safety and security
i find the life
pumping
into my
wingspan

the colors of the
world
entrance me
i am no longer
dreaming
as i drink in
my natural
but still
foreign
home

~~~@~~~

riveting pain
with each
s p r e a d
of these
newly acquiesced
defenseless
delicate
appendiges
this
m e t a m o r p h a s i s
has just begun

my
j o u r n e y
to self discovery
paved with
wrestling and scuffling
everlasting
flight
and
wondering


~~~@~~~

for it is in the
p a I n
we find
g r o w t h

and in the
s t r u g g l e
against
the
safe and secure
that we
at last
find

F R E E D O M

~~~@~~~

dajena m
soulsurvivor
(c) october 10, 2014
There is a story of
A man who saw a
Butterfly struggling
To free itself from the
Confiness of it's
Christalis
He assisted it by
Partially breaking
The leaf like sheath
Later upon
Returning
To the site he found
The butterfly
Dead on the ground

They need the struggle
To push their blood
Into their wings
To live


It has been a great pleasure
Working with
Dajena M
To say the least!

She is a marvel!
He was born strong, he had to be,
Lest he sacrifice his anonymity.
A force to be reckoned with within himself
Or was it the all-powerful force that enslaves you and me.
Most fall prey to its whims, not him.
He was wise to their tricks from the start
From every social class it claims its victims
But not he with his invincible heart.

Blame it on who you will
Mom when she popped the pill
Or pops when he gulped his swill
Siblings who plotted the ****
Past lovers who could never fulfill
No - none of the above..He blames himself
He is ill.

To be exposed to the public
Makes him physically sick
The panic sets in, then comes the sweat
Body lurching, losing control (tick, tick)
A second feels like eternity in their sight
He just wants to disappear, take flight.
The social fear, anxiety has a vicious bite.

He doesn't deserve the sad fate
Of which he's found hard to escape.
His heart made of iron walls built around the biggest love one could imagine.
His mind exploding with passion
Ambition, strength, desperation
But the fear that holds him captive
A thick Veil creates
Blinding the world's eyes - that they may never see how great
And how beautiful a mind he possesses.

I wish I could make him famous
It's a shame for him to stay concealed
If you had the honor to know what his name is
Perhaps your broken view of the world would be healed.
Because he has a way of telling a story
That is completely captivating
Equally self-shaming & proclaiming his glory
Leaves you for hours or days his words contemplating.

You can't just turn away & forget
You can't just say no & regret
When his hand is extended for aid
It's the least you can do. How you're made
In God's image, a God of love & kindness
Can't withhold or turn your eye in blindness.

Despite his pervasive surroundings
Of filth & greed & surrender
He finds a way to self-preserve
Or for a friend a favor to render.
Although he himself has nothing
No worldly possessions to claim
Would give his arm & his leg - risk his neck
To save a friend, or even a stranger, HECK!

This sorry poem still does him no justice
Doesn't convey the full picture
His life account could fill volumes
In libraries in every town of every state in this small nation.
See, even I know only a fraction.
Yet without having known him
Who would I be?
What lessons in life would be lacking?
I have him to thank for opening my heart again
Tearing it out violently & replacing it
With even more capacity to love than before.

He should know how many hearts he has touched
How many have stood at a distance & admired his strength.
He should believe that his potential is real, beyond his wildest imagination.
He should feel proud that he brought life into this world, showed someone what love means while all he's known is hate.
That in itself is a miracle.
He's a miracle
He's someone special.
Someone special to me.
Dedicated to W.A.H.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-3CmKofKTU
 Aug 2014 Paul Hardwick
lX0st
The crashing of the waves
Reminds me of my head
Hitting the wall
After I've told myself
A million times
'I can't love you I can't love you'
And the wind
Slapping my face
Reminds me of how I felt
When I watched you walk away
For the last time
And it's your voice
Echoing along the cliff's edge
'Jump jump'.
internet wingnuts...
nah nah nah whatcha thinkin?
whatcha thinkin....you spelled it wrong
whatcha thinkin...you didnt capitalize
are you satan's spawn you cant write that here
i will come to your house and eat your dog
nah nah nah whatcha thinkin?
ill follow you round tearing you down till you let me kiss you
ill fill your mailbox full of hate till you love me
i will tell everyone what a horrible person you are
till you let me in
who are you....keep me warm....let me hate you
wingnuts....wingnuts everywhere
whoever invented the block list should get a freakin sainthood
whatcha thinking you cant block me
ill just make a new profile
fill your inbox full of hate till you love me
Do you feel strong now?
Do you feel different?
Do you see him lying by you?
Do you remember his name?
Are you happy now?

Happy, you woke in a different bed?
Do you feel empowered?
Powerful by that lie, forsaking your marriage bed?
Did you find yourself with him in you?
Your nails ripping his back.

Did you find him different to the man who gives you his all?
Or the same as any man?
Any shame? Did you come with love?
Did you scream the right name?
Are you happy now?

Did you remember his vows to you? Yours to him.
Do you remember writhing? Screaming? Scratching?
Pouring with sweat and lust.
Did you see him as you clung to the other?
Did you feel dishonest? Unclean?

Multiple questions go with multiple *******.
You have to answer them in time.
But, for now collect your clothes off the floor, slip quietly out the door, and remember how this started; with a row,
And ask "Are you happy now?"
© JLB
22/07/2014
With Muse filled;
Semenal words are
on the parchment spilled.
 Jun 2014 Paul Hardwick
Poetic T
A baby
speaks
and we
just nod
and agree,
for we
don't speak
baby,their telling you that you'll be woken at 3:30am not pm wait and see.
Next page