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RaNdOmPoEtRy Dec 2013
When you said good bye, and threw me in the dirt
I never knew that how much it could hurt
My mama was glad that you said goodbye
She didn't even care that I fell down and cried
And my daddy was glad it had end
He didn't care that I lost my only friend
I had no comfort, no love
Just tears and sorrow
Oh I know that sun won't come up tomorrow
I should of never dated a guy so rough
That's what my parents told me when they had enough

Yes I'm alone for my first broken heart
You didn't care that you tore me apart
And my daddy was glad
He wasn't even mad
He just laughed and told me so
That I should of never fell into your bad boy river flow
And my mama smiled and waved goodbye
She wasn't there to sing me my lullabye
Oh Lullabyee
Sing me my lullabye
Sing me my lullabye

And the next day when I went to school
I never felt as big as a fool
And my friends didn't care what to say
They didn't like you anyway
They all turn their backs
They didn't care of the friendship they lacked
Nobody cares that I'm all alone
Nobody cares that I don't want to go home
They said I should of seen your bad smile glow

Yes I'm alone for my first broken heart
Nobody cares how you tore me apart
And my friends were
And they weren't even mad
They just smiled and teased no harm
But I shouldn't of never fell for your bad boy charm
And my mama smiled when you said good bye
She wasn't there to sing me my lullabye
Ohh sing me my lullabye
God had called us, and we came;
  Our loved Earth to ashes left;
Heaven was a neighbor’s house,
  Open to us, bereft.

Gay the lights of Heaven showed,
  And ’twas God who walked ahead;
Yet I wept along the road,
  Wanting my own house instead.

Wept unseen, unheeded cried,
  “All you things my eyes have kissed,
Fare you well!  We meet no more,
  Lovely, lovely tattered mist!

Weary wings that rise and fall
  All day long above the fire!”—
Red with heat was every wall,
  Rough with heat was every wire—

“Fare you well, you little winds
  That the flying embers chase!
Fare you well, you shuddering day,
  With your hands before your face!

And, ah, blackened by strange blight,
  Or to a false sun unfurled,
Now forevermore goodbye,
  All the gardens in the world!

On the windless hills of Heaven,
  That I have no wish to see,
White, eternal lilies stand,
  By a lake of ebony.

But the Earth forevermore
  Is a place where nothing grows,—
Dawn will come, and no bud break;
  Evening, and no blossom close.

Spring will come, and wander slow
  Over an indifferent land,
Stand beside an empty creek,
  Hold a dead seed in her hand.”

God had called us, and we came,
  But the blessed road I trod
Was a bitter road to me,
  And at heart I questioned God.

“Though in Heaven,” I said, “be all
  That the heart would most desire,
Held Earth naught save souls of sinners
  Worth the saving from a fire?

Withered grass,—the wasted growing!
  Aimless ache of laden boughs!”
Little things God had forgotten
  Called me, from my burning house.

“Though in Heaven,” I said, “be all
  That the eye could ask to see,
All the things I ever knew
  Are this blaze in back of me.”

“Though in Heaven,” I said, “be all
  That the ear could think to lack,
All the things I ever knew
  Are this roaring at my back.”

It was God who walked ahead,
  Like a shepherd to the fold;
In his footsteps fared the weak,
  And the weary and the old,

Glad enough of gladness over,
  Ready for the peace to be,—
But a thing God had forgotten
  Was the growing bones of me.

And I drew a bit apart,
  And I lagged a bit behind,
And I thought on Peace Eternal,
  Lest He look into my mind:

And I gazed upon the sky,
  And I thought of Heavenly Rest,—
And I slipped away like water
  Through the fingers of the blest!

All their eyes were fixed on Glory,
  Not a glance brushed over me;
“Alleluia!  Alleluia!”
  Up the road,—and I was free.

And my heart rose like a freshet,
  And it swept me on before,
Giddy as a whirling stick,
  Till I felt the earth once more.

All the earth was charred and black,
  Fire had swept from pole to pole;
And the bottom of the sea
  Was as brittle as a bowl;

And the timbered mountain-top
  Was as naked as a skull,—
Nothing left, nothing left,
  Of the Earth so beautiful!

“Earth,” I said, “how can I leave you?”
  “You are all I have,” I said;
“What is left to take my mind up,
  Living always, and you dead?”

“Speak!” I said, “Oh, tell me something!
  Make a sign that I can see!
For a keepsake!  To keep always!
  Quick!—before God misses me!”

And I listened for a voice;—
  But my heart was all I heard;
Not a screech-owl, not a loon,
  Not a tree-toad said a word.

And I waited for a sign;—
  Coals and cinders, nothing more;
And a little cloud of smoke
  Floating on a valley floor.

And I peered into the smoke
  Till it rotted, like a fog:—
There, encompassed round by fire,
  Stood a blue-flag in a bog!

Little flames came wading out,
  Straining, straining towards its stem,
But it was so blue and tall
  That it scorned to think of them!

Red and thirsty were their tongues,
  As the tongues of wolves must be,
But it was so blue and tall—
  Oh, I laughed, I cried, to see!

All my heart became a tear,
  All my soul became a tower,
Never loved I anything
  As I loved that tall blue flower!

It was all the little boats
  That had ever sailed the sea,
It was all the little books
  That had gone to school with me;

On its roots like iron claws
  Rearing up so blue and tall,—
It was all the gallant Earth
  With its back against a wall!

In a breath, ere I had breathed,—
  Oh, I laughed, I cried, to see!—
I was kneeling at its side,
  And it leaned its head on me!

Crumbling stones and sliding sand
  Is the road to Heaven now;
Icy at my straining knees
  Drags the awful under-tow;

Soon but stepping-stones of dust
  Will the road to Heaven be,—
Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
  Reach a hand and rescue me!

“There—there, my blue-flag flower;
  Hush—hush—go to sleep;
That is only God you hear,
  Counting up His folded sheep!

Lullabye—lullabye—
  That is only God that calls,
Missing me, seeking me,
  Ere the road to nothing falls!

He will set His mighty feet
  Firmly on the sliding sand;
Like a little frightened bird
  I will creep into His hand;

I will tell Him all my grief,
  I will tell Him all my sin;
He will give me half His robe
  For a cloak to wrap you in.

Lullabye—lullabye—”
  Rocks the burnt-out planet free!—
Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
  Reach a hand and rescue me!

Ah, the voice of love at last!
  Lo, at last the face of light!
And the whole of His white robe
  For a cloak against the night!

And upon my heart asleep
  All the things I ever knew!—
“Holds Heaven not some cranny, Lord,
  For a flower so tall and blue?”

All’s well and all’s well!
  Gay the lights of Heaven show!
In some moist and Heavenly place
  We will set it out to grow.
Rob Sandman May 2016
(on candystriped legs)* -the Sandman comes,
catch you while you're sleeping,bring you dreams of redrum
hum softly in your ear-fear, tears - sleep apnia,
lucidly,produce a vista that lingers long after ya,
wake,but wait which is the dream realm?
Once I get you on my list in time you're surely overwhelmed

By a state of Schizophrenia,daydream mania,
add a victim to the list of convoluted insomnia,
(searching out fear in the gathering gloom)
a potent presence appears to bring the prescience of doom


**The room shivers like Inception,but you've still no conception,
of the depth of the Abyss that blows softly with deceptions,
no exception to preception of the photo-reception,
mis - perception,misdirection,just a section of my weapons,
(be still,be calm,be quiet now,my precious toy),
The Sandman's here to rock you with a lullabye
Like it says,
always loved Lullabye by The Cure and was asked to do a Tribute/based on song...need to finish it!.
phil roberts  Apr 2017
LULLABYE
phil roberts Apr 2017
They lie warm together
In the afterglow of torrid love
Her head on his chest, he says
"Sing me to sleep, my love"
So she hums and croons
A tune he does not recognize
With soothing sounding words
In a language he does not recognize
"I love you," he murmurs as his eyes close
"I know," she says smiling
And so, as he sleeps
She lies open-eyed
Imagining a future he will not recognize

                                        By Phil Roberts
Dream Fisher  Feb 2020
Lullabye
Dream Fisher Feb 2020
The witching hours, we aren't afraid of those,
Heaven knows we pray for sleep
Only to dream of having dreams
Stuck in the darkness of this in between
Keeping consciousness but, honest this
Baggage has been weighing heavy.
These flood gates still hold steady,
Under pressure they may just break the levee,
Cracking slowly all the time,
For all the things attacking your mind,
I wrote this lullabye.

Streaming through insomniac days
That just fade out like memories
Barely there despite being awake.
Shaking the feeling of dealing
With the ghost I call myself
Until I can slip into my bed and melt.
Can I host a night where rest is felt?
Maybe not, yet still I try,
Writing myself a lullabye.

Two became three, three came four
Numbers shining from my dresser drawers
Taunting, laughing, trapping me in my head
I tried to write a lullabye
Only to find a nightmare instead.
kay  Mar 2015
scars
kay Mar 2015
I have always believed that human beings grew up wanting to be grown
and spent the time when we were wanting to try again
all the time I have known I felt this was true
and coming back to me and you I'll say it again:
life is not lived outside of original sin
and every step I take feels like a mistake
no emo lyricism here
just real fear because there's too much dark in this big broad world for anyone to shed any real light
and without light the shadows creep and crawl
and I can watch the walls but who mans the halls
all night long I wait awake
every blink and every breath I take another reason for me to fear
"major depressive disorder"
doctors croon that like a sweet lullabye
but that does nothing to dry my eyes because what?
I'm not sick, just crazy?
I'm not hurt, just lazy?
I know the pains I feel so deep
if they aren't real then neither am I
I fall short of every sunrise with color but I try
major depressive disorder according to books
(allow me to paraphrase, I can't be bothered to look again)
is categorized by an extreme feeling of hopelessness
and loss of interest and I feel they are lacking finesse
when I am told I am a sad sad soul because the world is grand and wide
and I would invite it all to come inside
but I can't and that makes me sad.
it makes me sad when I see the way people are treated.
it makes me sad and often downright defeated
and when the little flame that keeps this broken heart burning
gets washed out by the darkness of the world awake and yearning
waiting for a moment of doubt and weak
I feel so ******* meek
me, meek.
I feel like the world is collapsing but only in my chest
I feel like an infant in a bulletproof vest getting shot
my skin starts to itch and I can't scratch with my nails deep enough
and son of a ***** they don't trust me with sharp things anymore
and the scores on my arms are the times I have lost
and this battle isn't won and this is hardly a war
this is slaughter, this is me standing alone under the whole wide world and keeping it up
and this is everyone I love looking at me straining and telling me that I'm slipping up
alaska is too far south today, do I even give a ****?
depression is not a feeling of overwhelming sadness
I am not sad because of misaligned cables in my mind
I am sad because no matter how hard I try
I'm told that I am not.
but here I am still trying, standing up from my cot on the floor
and every step outside that yawning door
there are people pulling me back and slinging words that cut deeper than I ever did
and every hand that grasps my shirttails to try and pull me home like a lost little kid
leaves mars all down my back, claws that sink and ravage leaving me ****** and raw
and bleeding open and sloppy all on the floor I keep my pace, like every step will be the last straw
like every step is the last one I need to take to get away
and as I go I follow all the trails of similar blood, refreshed by people like me every day.
and I just wanted to say
I don't give a flying **** what you think you know about my scars
I don't care if it makes you uncomfortable to see my arms, the sun is out and it's 90 ******* degrees
don't lie to me and say I should be ashamed and not wear these badges like good luck charms
don't tell me my survival is offensive to your eyes because you should know without being told
these scars are here to help me grow old
when I needed to remember I was alive these scars
were fresh cuts, science experiments on a corpse brought back screaming "I'M ALIVE"
I'm not ashamed for surviving because if I were ashamed
I wouldn't be.
Lora Lee Sep 2016
Please know, darling
that as you
                 slip
into your soul's abyss
my light will fill up
your darkness
like a spirit's starlit kiss
for the depth
of the black
and the distance
           mean nothing
when it comes to
           love
only our inner stars
determine what
is inside and above
So as in this chant,
                 this prayer
                     this hymn
                            of my essence
I cast forth the forces
that will make
known
    my presence
for my inner soul's nectar
is sweet water
in a state of
ever-flowing
     sometimes even tripping
      into the lip
         of your vessel
    without you
even knowing    
I am here in all ways
    except a single one
     that to look in your eyes
   is a dream rough-spun  
for aye, that physical
     has its limits,
           nonetheless
but still, from here
right into your being
          I press
my heart beating
           strong
my mind's whispers
            wild
as my fingers
stroke the hair
of your inner child
so come rest your head,
       right here,
     on my chest
Feel the tiny
quakes
that take place
as we let ourselves rest
from the world outside
from the demons within
melting the lines
of despair,
now rice-paper thin
        And our intense need
to love
and be loved
   is the true healing balm
      and now our
spirits rise up
in the night's
      lip-brushed
psalm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-UsuVTRaglY
www.youtube.com/watch?v=fhI5T_NKYxc
Kaytlin Jones May 2014
Goodbye, my love.
As I pick up the gun.
Goodbye, my love.
As I begin to cry.
Goodbye, my love.
I write the note.
Goodbye, my love.
"It's not your fault..."
Goodbye, my love.
One last tear.
Goodbye, my life.
BANG
And I pull the trigger.
I kind of just came up with this on the spot.
Reilly Cole  Aug 2013
Baby Bird
Reilly Cole Aug 2013
Baby Bird, Baby Bird
It's Time To Leave The Nest
Baby Bird Baby Bird
You Really Need Your Rest

Little Bird Little Bird
It's Time To Spread Your Wings
Little Bird Little Bird
You Won't Know Times Passing

Ancient Bird Ancient Bird
It's Time To Say Good Bye
Ancient Bird Ancient Bird
Let's Sing This Lullabye
how faint his final cry
how frail his last goodbye
plays on low as he drifts away
'song of the sandman lullabye'
he wraps himself in memories
he finds a dream and falls
the music on a constant loop
makes its way down hollow halls

morning light now finds no breath
the pen's ink soon to dry
his final words
his quiet death

'song of the sandman lullabye'
Dorothy A Nov 2010
The lone eagle makes its
solo journey over the vast horizon

I can see my flag in
the setting sun
as the lemon halo of fire
becomes a vivid pomegranate red,
the turquoise sky darkening
into a sea of navy blue
and wispy, white clouds  
are hovering over us like
spirits in the universe

Lady Liberty,
overlooking the evening
of the New York Harbor,
displays her lit up torch like a
cosmic nightlight
She forever sheds light over
weary Americans
to remind us to
still dream the American dream
but that vision often seems
so out of our common reach

Uncle Sam has put on his nightcap,
a tuckered, old man is he
The crickets are chirping,
singing to me their strange lullabye
as I think I'll call it a night

*Goodnight, America, Goodnight
Ellis Reyes Apr 2013
These words are a sock, soft and warm from the dryer
butterknife
palpable
lullabye
maroon

These words are bits of glass, attacking my ears:
Yaw
Ketch
Blurt
Epizeuxis
Jactation and
Mauve

These words are brass-knuckled fists to the face
Mogadishu
Rwanda
Desert One
My Lai
And
Nine One One

These words are a sneaky cat, slithering here and there
Mystery
Secretive
Lurking
Sly
Shadowy

These words are unknown to everyone but me. Private words for private thoughts.
Uiyak
Jackassdom
Nothingofanyvalue
Daisy Vallely Jul 2017
Beyond the bleeding horizon lies a yellow star,
much like the glow above one's head when three eyes open.  
Within that star is an open space
where dew-dropped webs twinkle
like fractals of crystal quartz.
Streams of thought glide down silken strands of consciousness.

The yellow star sings to me;
"Seek further than you're told,
patience radiates like gold.
Your eyes have known
this sacred home
for many moons,
that laughing lune.
The wind may tell
'you know us well'
And we know you, little blue"

Perhaps a song for familiar souls, that have journeyed through a multitude of existences.
With my eyelids kissed by that yellow star's lullaby,
I hazily gaze beyond the sleepy hills, willow trees, and melting clouds
to see the eyes of my own soul smile crisp
like a poison apple in my hand,
cradled cautiously in the crevices of my palm.
The star contently fell behind the mountains,
humming to the melody of the rolling breeze,
fading into the twilight
only to become an echo in my mind.

I gave my soul to the sun that day
only to roam the black of night as an empty void
and see my true self once more
at the break of day.
Til

— The End —