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Sjr1000  Jan 2014
On Forgiveness
Sjr1000 Jan 2014
Resentment and bitterness
is the poison drank
in hopes the other will perish.

Forgiveness is a moment of
peaceful release
not forgetting
or unknowing
but a shifting
in mind
and emotions
a switch on
a switch off
a deep sigh of acceptance
A moving on.

But what does it really mean
and how to get there
from here?

Resentment
Bitterness
Hurtfulness
Forgiveness
How to get from here
to there?

These questions plague
my day
Dance through my night.

In a moment of light
I wonder
if self forgiveness
makes it all right
I realize then
I have no magic sentence
to make it all okay.

This unfathomable
human moment
perhaps there are no words to say.

But
Being loving
is that the answer?
Kindness
is that the cure?
Self-acceptance
comes in waves
peace in moments found.
Perhaps
in these emotions
forgiveness comes around.

When I get
there from here
I will tell you
what I found.

Meanwhile
Lightning and thunder
color the horizon
and flash towards the ground...
*In looking up the phrase "resentment is the poison I drink hoping the other will die" appears to have been first said by St. Augustine. Interestingly enough Nelson Mandela also said the same.  I am always interested in definitions of forgiveness and would love to hear those of yours who happened upon this page. Many thanks.
Steve.
Waverly  Apr 2012
Don't be Hurt.
Waverly Apr 2012
When I place my heart
in hell,
I place it in your frying pan.

When we ****
I see the listlessness in your eyes,
and I'm not hurt,
because at least you're there,
and you're letting me enter
you
for
a
moment.

At least your letting me be a part of you,
and that's what I think *** is,
more than an entering of the body,
it's an entering of the soul.

So when I push my *****
I push
my hopes
my regrets
my hurtfulness
and my
******-sociological
*******.

Can you take me,
because I'm crazy
and I've got a few ****** up
idiosyncracies.

So when I catch
this love **** quick,
it's on a whole 'nother tip.

I might just fall in love,
and Natalie might come calling
again,
so don't be hurt
when I resume with her
and I chase every single girl
I could have loved
into the distance.

Don't be hurt,
because
misguidedly,
I think I'm meant to be with her.
Lee Janes Dec 2012
Let me tell you of a sight that I saw,
As I woke from tender sleep;
‘Twas a sight I've never seen before,
Did very near, make me weep.

There before me, shining in the blue,
Hung the moon, a pearly white;
‘Twas believe not in the late hours, too true,
However, was there, beaming as bright.

My weary eyes, fixed high upon its face,
Strange wonder I had found,
My tired head I scratched, just in case
My breath, made that sighing sound.

Alas! it did, and do you know why?
Come! Come! It's the moon we know.
Although hung high, in the blue sky,
It made me remember my woe.

Our little dream, which I think we share,
When the moon, it is, we see,
I'll promise to think of you, I swear,
My desire, my dove Emily.

Awaking from sleep, I was so glad,
Content for a sunny day;
But this disc in the blue made me sad,
Thinking of that time in May,

When like this moon, ill gaze upon you,
Like a vision from heaven supreme;
Warmth engulfing me through and through,
And joyous tears to fill a stream.

To embrace you close, to hug you tight,
My want, too never let you go,
Because In my heart as try as I might,
To another you belong, I know.

I fill my thoughts with dream and hope,
And implore you do the same.
For surely love, in paradises grand scope,
Won't play with me a sick game.

I close my eyes, appealing to the breeze,
I'm a fool, an idiot, am I?
Your scent etched deep like a deadly disease,
My chanted love will she ever reply?

I often think, to live within humble means,
Never, I deserve such a beauteous grace,
A fair woman that even in my wildest dreams,
Imprints an image I can not erase.

The form of my angel, as if you were present,
Appears before my watery eyes,
Your absence elevates my bereft discontent,
Of he who has you for his prize.

To have eyes, I feel, is to be not a crime,
‘Twas not my fault you were viewed,
But punishment is bestowed upon my rhyme,
And now eternally you'll be pursued.

That moon I saw before me, has gone,
But what a sight my eyes beheld.
Within the bright hue it just couldn't hold on,
With loves pain my heart swelled.

Diana's moon chariot and her lovely steeds,
I'll always worship, as if a new;
‘Cause her sister Ceres she plants her seeds,
Within my heart, and it bleeds for you.

When you enter my mind, I can forever write,
Praying my words effect my muse;
To weaken your heart, however so slight,
Let me walk in your lovers shoes.

So I'll take this fight, which many have lost,
Against the hurtfulness of love;
I want you though, and believe at any cost,
Even to die inside, for my dove.

This melody ill leave, which I have sung,
Oh to wake up beside your figure,
Is that dream of mine and my sweet tongue,
My lord I grieve, I believe I adore her.

Just like this moon, my song fades,
Into this pale sky of blue,
Take my words, the fair of fairest maids,
‘Cause guess, they truly say ‘I love you'
jeffrey conyers Jun 2013
No one will ever know the tears, I cry.
When I sit alone at night.
No one will ever know the pain, I feel.
When I sit alone at night.

They my inner hurt.
They my inner pain that I keep bottle up inside.
Only releasing my hurtfulness through my tears.

I miss the ones that have gone before me.
I miss them daily and constantly.
Mainly because, they were the very heart of me.

But I go on forward into the world.
Not afraid of what I find?
But very assure of what I know?

That no one will ever know of my hurt.
Not even those I see in church.
Cause I put on my smile and pretend.
Even when surrounded by my friends.
Terry Collett Aug 2013
The water won’t really
Wash him away, but you
Try and now dry between
Toes. Thoughts of him
And what he did and said

Pollute your body and inside
Your head. An hour in the bath
Has not erased him at all, not
Undone him, not unfelt his
Fingers from your flesh.

The flesh tingles where
The brush scrubbed,
The pores hold onto his
Feel and touch, too imbedded,
All too much. You want him

Gone, want all of him to be
Sluiced away down the sink,
The down the drain, away
From you, with all his
Hurtfulness and all that pain.
2009 POEM.
Renae  Apr 2015
Enduring
Renae Apr 2015
Slowly it trickles
Softly drives me insane
The constant pressure
The soft relentlessness
The tightness that grabs
The pounding
The sudden awakening
The hurtfulness
The unending abuse
Ronald J Chapman Oct 2017
You lying there,
Beauty, in a white dress,
Lying on a bed draped in white lace,

Please wake up my love,
Are you dreaming beautiful dreams?

Holding your hand,

I pray to God,
To feel your warmth,
And gentleness once again.

I love you

Wishing to give you happiness,
Take away the hurtfulness,
Desire to show you the beauty in our world,

Please wake up my Angel,
I miss you so much.

You are my inspiration,
You are the divine gift,
That saved my life.

Please wake up my beautiful love.

Copyright © 2017 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved
YoonA - Amazing Grace Color Coded Lyrics (OST from The K2)
https://youtu.be/6Kjo1mYwVhA
AKM  Nov 2017
Hurtful flame
AKM Nov 2017
You light a lighter,
You conjure a flame;
You rub two rocks,
You conjure a flame.
You light a matchstick,
You conjure a flame,
You do it, again and again.
Let me tell you, it's a wicked game.

The satisfaction,
That comes with shaming someone,
Ah! So glorious, right?
Telling a diabetic every pair of jeans fits him tight,
Asking a poorer guy,
If he begs for food all night?
Fun, am I right?
Nope.  WRONG.
Every Asian isn't called Ching Chong,
Every deformed person isn't 'King Kong'
Every Chinese doesn't play Mahjong,
Females can play football,
Black people aren't ***** at all!

Just quit the ****** stereotyping,
Shaming and hurting doesn't make you any king.
Every time you shame,
You conjure a flame.
A flame of hurtfulness and pain.
Very random idea, based on what I thought about shaming and stereotyping.
(this endeavor more self directed to progeny,
whose psyche wounded, strafed, and nicked.)

Incumbent upon me own
     purring impetus, a sincere
desire arose NOT to ask
     thee anything, but mere
lee accept father's shortcomings,
     which time constraint here
which poetic expression hoop
     fully evokes thee dear

daughter (Eden Liat,
     a whip smart,
     mature first born),
     who didst bear
witness to unpleasant
     super charged rage
     undoubtedly breeding aversion,
anger, disgust, hostility, embarrassment,

     estrangement, hatred, ill-will,
     loathing, repugnance, shame
     when we lived at
     1148 greentree Lane,
     and 734 West Railroad Avenue
neither riches such
     as precious metals,
     jewels, gems, et cetera,

     could never buy
thee equivalent of
     an admirable, equitable,
     and inimitable
     "star student" die
ving (figuratively) into
     the thick of life,
     which grueling, sans fierce

     exertion bore fly
ying colors, where Lower
     Merion academic instructors
     (kindergarten to twelfth grade) high
lee touted your
     above average aptitude
viz, dominant intellectual
     bent intrinsically, genetically,

     and enigmatically brewed,
which "smarts,"did
     advantageously inc clued,
perhaps even a sum mattering
     of intelligence quotient
     girl scout points froom this dude
yielded a metaphorically harmonically,
     and compositionally complex

     cerebral edifice etude,
oh...and of course being
     nursed by "mother"
     as moost vital infant food
to foster (long hall)
     robust body, mind
     and spirit that
     did more good

then harm (I hardly
     aver no critique
     posed against breast milk)
case in point attributes
     your physical health,
     when rarely did thee ail
accessing apportioned medicaid
     resources, the pediatric

     service provider would avail
exempt from common
     child hood diseases
     (nearly all eradicated -
     at least in this country)
     with proven inoculations,
     which only minimally caused
     uncomfortable side affects,

     and for the most
     part did derail,
yet...no matter this dada
     strove not to fail
as thee paternal parent,
I recognize resentment,
     that oft times burst forth
     like a furious gale

     (putting dear old Florence -
     yes her of cane to shame)
if this muggle able and willing
     to wave a magic wand,
     and turn back
     the hands of time
he would revisit those
     instances, when hurtfulness

     thee em man hint
     beautiful darling daughter,
    would even resort to mime
to communicate the
     inadvertent hostile environment,
     ye and the Punim unfairly weathered
     asper blistering crime,
asthma person appeared as a ***,

when this "sir" with hate,
     and/or mother
appeared ill suited tubby
     legal birthright guardians
     in part attributed,
one or both of us
     vowing school of hard knocks
     tubby a flunked out “FAKE” alum.
Arduous agonizing affliction
doth unrelentingly assail...
aghast to exhale lest...lose
desperate clinging clutch
held by bloodied cracked fingernail
phantasmagoric tendrils constrict

stoppering me to whisper or wail
yawning abyss menacingly beseeches
hmm...release could immediately curtail
cumulative (lifetime's worth) travail
freefalling, pirouetting unnervingly,
unstoppably, unwaveringly... zipping

into infinite black hell hole ail
mince vanish as doth guilt - a hail
storm peppering psyche... jail
time for eternity excluded option
asper garden variety baby boomer male,
albeit the father of deux darling daughters,

the eldest (broke vow of silent communication),
she reached out after months long hiatus telltale
indications to accept genuine apology
her papa (me) rages against hurtfulness, he
affixed indelible psychological scars each travail
boomeranged backed to yours truly duress

during her impressionable years, she did rail
and rant previous conversation, the scale
innocent intelligent progeny, we begat
(myself and misses) financially ill prepared
to provide respectable accommodations

"dirt poor" status detrimental
with affluent MainLine
incomes luxe Lower Merion
living costs fateful design
neighbors cursed, ostracized, vilified...
unsightly unkempt property (i.e. unmanicured)

intolerant snobs didst malign
child welfare services called NOT to dine
but emphatic for papa and mama to align
dwelling safe and secure for minors
yes, I attest despicable living conditions
crowded house with Zison heirlooms

owners - malignant hoarders did confine
considerably reducing cubic feet,
they relations of spouse evicted us
ready to point carbine
at temple...quicker than noose
dead of winter 2010 near homelessness

relocated within "roach motel" decline
among our dynamics with offspring
livid with rage, asper an inferno no divine
comedy compounded by lascivious
behaviour - mine to hasten dateline
enduring helplessness, hardship

being alive plus brandishing knife
against self witnessed...I assign
poor marks as paternal parent,
who bemoans loathsome
impact...this papa gropes toward hotline!

— The End —